All Saints Lutheran Church

Pastor Tim Johnson

December 24, 2003

TRANSFORMED BY A BABE

There is a story about how a baby came to a mining camp and completely transformed the camp.

A poor woman with a questionable reputation, the only woman in the whole camp, died. She left behind a small baby and the men of the camp had to take care of it.

The baby was lying in a box. And pretty soon, the men felt that a box was not fit for a baby's crib. So they sent one of their members eighty miles on a mule to Sacramento to get a rosewood cradle. When the cradle came, the rags on which the baby was sleeping seemed out of place. So the man was sent back to Sacramento to purchase some clothes--lacy, frilly, clothes.

When the baby was dressed in its lovely garments and placed in the rosewood cradle, the men observed for the first time that the floor was dirty. So they scrubbed it clean. Then they noticed that the walls and ceiling were also dirty, so they scrubbed them. Then they noticed that the walls and ceiling were unsightly. So they proceeded to whitewash them. Afterward they mended the windows and draped them.

Because the baby needed to be quiet at times, the men remained still and ceased some of their rough language and rowdy ways. When the weather permitted they took the cradle out to the mines and discovered that the mining area had to be cleaned and flowers planted to make the surroundings as lovely and as attractive as the baby. Finally the men began to improve their personal appearances. Thus the coming of a baby resulted in the transformation of Roaring Mine Camp into a new and attractive place. (1)

So my question tonight is, Can a tiny baby still transform lives as radically as this story?

The angel said to Joseph, "Fear not to take Mary for your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. And she shall bring forth a son and you shall call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins."

Can a tiny baby do that? Can a baby still make a dramatic impact upon our lives?

Consider even what this baby can do for the feelings of despair that so often grip our lives.

In 1741, George Friedreich Handel was ready to quit. His health was shattered. His right side was paralyzed and he could barely manage to hold his pen. His money was gone. Creditors threatened him with imprisonment. Handel sank so low into depression that he found himself wondering if he shouldn't hurl himself into the river. The future held such perils that he felt he could not continue.

Handel's faith, however, sustained him even during these times. He found reserves that he didn't know God could give him. The composer sat down and wrote the inspiring aria, recitatives, and choruses which have enriched the lives of all of us.

The next time you listen to selections from "Messiah" remember that this immortal music came from a man who composed it during a time of peril in his personal life, when only his faith in God kept him going. (2)

"You shall call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins...."

And sometimes that's what we want from God—save me from this mess, we pray. Save me from the consequences of my sin. But Jesus came for an even deeper purpose—to save us from sin itself.

There is an interesting book written by Thomas Butts entitled, TIGERS IN THE DARK. The book tells about a time when all the electricity went out at a Barnum and Bailey circus. For a few minutes they were all in total darkness. They had just started the act with the tigers in the cage with the trainer. When the lights came on he was still alive. He was interviewed by TV and newspaper reporters. They asked him, "How did you feel in that cage with all those big cats in the dark....when they could see you and you couldn't see them?" The tiger trainer's answer was this: "But they didn't know I couldn't see them!... So I just cracked my whip and shouted commands."

That what you might call “`Fake it till you make it.'" (3)

Faking until you make it is all right for a while. But sooner or later we are going to need something real--something that goes beneath the surface to our real needs. Or better yet, SOMEONE who goes beneath the surface.

Many years ago, two land surveyors came from a big city to survey the mountains of North Wales . They stayed that week at a lonely shepherd's cottage. During the day, they would climb the steep slopes of Snowdonia, charting the contours, checking the landmarks, tracing the mountain streams to their respective sources and returning each night to their lonely cottage. Toward the end of the week, just before retiring for the night, the old shepherd suggested that he should accompany them on the mountain the next day.

"There is no need," answered the confident men of the city. "We can't possibly get lost: we have our compasses, charts, maps—that's all we really need."

"But," continued the old rustic, "I know the mountain tracks like the back of my hand; I know where the steep precipices lie; I know where the bog runs deep and where the bracken covers the crevices..."

"It is all on the map," repeated the city man. "The map will bring us home."

There was a pause, and the old shepherd spoke once more. "You may have the map, but the mist is not on the map."

The mist fogging our lives is why God sent us His Son to follow instead of just a bunch of directions.

We ought to be able to run our own lives, we say. We have all the tools of modern technology and insight. Psychology, a good society, fair laws to govern; decent opportunity to move ahead.

And, yet, we find ourselves too often having all of this and yet coming up oh so short. Wondering why we're on the edge of burnout, why we can't seem to connect like we want with our spouse or children, why we can work so hard and still wonder what our purpose in life is really supposed to be. Why the world's suffering? We may even wonder where in the mix God is.

The answer is in tonight's Christmas story. That God has come to us first as a tiny baby. Savior. Messiah. Prince of Peace. Promised One. Lord of lords! All wrapped up in a manger.

Waiting. Waiting to be noticed. Waiting to be brought into our lives and our hearts.

The men in the mining camp learned that the baby made a lasting difference as they began to have their lives reflect the reality of this one who came into their midst. They slowly but surely began to experience that the more they attended to the baby, the more they saw changes that needed to happen, and the more their own lives changed, indeed, the more their whole camp changed.

As true as that was for the men of the mining camp, it is that much more true for you and me, that the more we attend to Jesus, the more our own lives and relationships will be changed.

Can a tiny baby still transform the world? Yes. But I believe that he first begins by transforming you and me as we put things in right order—love God, and out of that love, love one another.

Amen.

----------------------------------

1 Ilion T. Jones, GOD'S EVERLASTING YES (Waco, TX 1969).

2 Frank S. Mead, TARBELL'S TEACHER'S GUIDE (Old Tappan, NJ: Fleming H. Revell Co., 1977) p. 402.

3 From a sermon by Dr. Joe Harding