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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt"><SPAN> </SPAN>Matthew 3:1-12 - "Repent Your Way to a Merry Christmas"</SPAN></div>
<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt"><SPAN> </SPAN>Luke 17:11-19 - "The Irrational Season" by Leonard Sweet</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Matthew 3, the sermon titled "Repent Your Way to a Merry Christmas" </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">A number of years ago a couple traveled to the offices of an Adoption Society in England to receive a baby. They had been on the waiting list a long time. They had been interviewed and carefully scrutinized. Now at last their dreams were to be fulfilled. But their day of happiness was another's pain.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Arriving at the offices of the Society they were led up a flight of stairs to a waiting room. After a few minutes they heard someone else climbing the stairs. It was the young student mother whose baby was to be adopted. She was met by the lady responsible for the adoption arrangements and taken into another room. Our friends heard a muffled conversation and a few minutes later footsteps on the stairs as the young mother left. They heard her convulsive sobbing until the front door of the office was closed. Then, there was silence.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">The lady in charge then conducted them next door. In a little crib was a six week old baby boy. On a chair beside it was a brown paper bag containing a change of clothes and two letters. One of these, addressed to the new parents, thanked them for providing a home for her baby and acknowledged that under the terms of the adoption each would never know the other's identity. Then the young mother added one request. Would they allow her little son to read the other letter on his eighteenth birthday? She assured them that she had not included any information about her identity. The couple entrusted that letter to a lawyer and one day the young man will read the message which his mother wrote on the day, when with breaking heart, she parted with him.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">I wonder what she wrote? If I had to condense all I feel about life and love into a few precious words what would I say? I would have no time for trivia. I would not be concerned about economics, politics, the weather, the size of house or the type of car. At such a time I would want to dwell on the profundities, on what life was all about and what things were absolutely essential.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">John in the desert was in the great tradition of the Hebrew prophets. He was aware that time was running out. In his burning message he had no time for peripheral matters. He was not playing Trivial Pursuit nor was he prepared to splash about in the shallows. Soon the sword of Herod's guard would flash and his tongue would lie silent in the grave. Superficial people came out from Jerusalem to see him. They were intrigued by this strange phenomenon of a wild man preaching repentance. They were fascinated by frivolous things such as his dress, his diet, and his fierce declamatory oratory. They wanted to interview him and then tell all their friends about their remarkable experience. "Who are you?" they asked. His answer was curt: "I am not the Christ." "Are you Elijah?" "No!" "Then who are you?" they persisted. They had their doubts about who he was but his message to their ears was clear: Repent.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">There comes a moment when the preacher longs for his hearers to lose sight of everything except his message. "Don't listen to my accent. Don't look at my clothes. Don't comment on my style. Don't search my biographical details for my University pedigree. Just listen to what I am saying. Repent!"</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">I would like to suggest this morning that Repent was the first component of his message. There are two others. Let's take a look at the first.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">1. John's Message Called People to Repentance</SPAN></div>
<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">2. John Told People to Share.</SPAN></div>
<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">3. The Third Thrust of John's Message Was to Serve.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">The rest of this sermon following the outline above can be obtained by joining <A target=_blank __removedLink__225297226__href="http://www.eSermons.com">www.eSermons.com</A>.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Romans 15, the sermon titled "The Irrational Season" by Leonard Sweet </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">One brief, sunny morning a woman looked out her living room window and was amazed to discover a dead mule on her lawn. Immediately she called the sanitation department and asked them to remove the carcass. But by the time the work-crew arrived, she had changed her mind. She gave the men $100.00 each, instructing them to carry the mule upstairs and to deposit it in the bathtub.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">After they had dutifully followed her instructions, one of the workers asked why she wanted the dead mule in her bathtub.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">She said, "Well, for 35 years my husband has been coming home at night, throwing his coat on the rack, grabbing the newspaper, plopping into the easy chair and asking, 'What's new?' Tonight, I'm going to tell him."</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">What's new this Christmas? </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Every year we plop ourselves down in the Christmas calendar and ask: </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">What's "hottest?" </SPAN></div>
<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Who's got the most popular gift?</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">What toy/gizmo requires a five-hour wait in line? </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Every Christmas season there is some new sound, or flavor, or decoration, or game, or cell-phone "app" that defines the cutting edge of "cool." And probably the memory of waiting in line, clawing through a crowd, falling into debt, will linger longer than the "new," "cool," "hot" thing you suffered for.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">But wait a minute? Isn't the exact opposite equally true?</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">It's the "old" stuff that we hanker after and hunger for. We hang the ratty old homemade ornaments on the tree. We crave the same old cookie recipes. We want to hear the old arrangements of the familiar carols we heard as kids. The candle wax spotted tablecloth is reinstated. That strange cheeseball thing reappears.</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">So which is it? Sameness or Newness?</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">The truth is Christmas finds us caught between our quest for the new and our yearning for the old. We are starved for new stories about the same old thing.<SPAN> </SPAN></SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">The "Hallmark" channel is showing repeats of every schmaltzy Christmas movie ever made 24-7 from Thanksgiving Eve through Christmas Day. But the sappy sentimentality of those shows doesn't fill the hole in our soul. Ernest Hemingway called sentimentality "an emotion you don't have to pay for."</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="COLOR: #000000"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">The real emotions of a real Advent season are genuinely costly and consistently creative</SPAN><SPAN style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri'"> - </SPAN><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">that means they engage creation. In this week's epistle text Paul is "engaging" a real community of first generation Christians...</SPAN></SPAN></SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">The rest of Leonard Sweet's sermon can be obtained by joining <A target=_blank __removedLink__225297226__href="http://www.Sermons.com">www.Sermons.com</A> </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Are You Swapping Heaven?</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">The great old evangelist, Dwight L. Moody, used to tell a legend about a beautiful swan that alighted one day by the banks of the water in which a crane was wading about seeking snails. For a few moments the crane viewed the swan in stupid wonder and then inquired: </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">"Where do you come from?"<SPAN> </SPAN></SPAN></div>
<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">"I come from heaven!" replied the swan.<SPAN> </SPAN></SPAN></div>
<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">"And where is heaven?" asked the crane. </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">"Heaven!" said the swan, "Heaven! have you never heard of heaven?" And the beautiful bird went on to describe the grandeur of the Eternal City. She told of streets of gold, and the gates and walls made of precious stones; of the river of life, pure as crystal, upon whose banks is the tree whose leaves shall be for the healing of the nations. In eloquent terms the swan sought to describe the hosts who live in the other world, but without arousing the slightest interest on the part of the crane. </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Finally the crane asked: "Are there any snails there?" </SPAN></div>
<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">"Snails!" repeated the swan, "No! Of course there are not." </SPAN></div>
<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">"Then," said the crane, as it continued its search along the slimy banks of the pool, "you can have your heaven. I want snails!" </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">"This fable," said Moody, "has a deep truth underlying it. How many a young person to whom God has granted the advantages of a Christian home, has turned his back upon it and searched for snails! How many a man will sacrifice his wife, his family, his all, for the snails of sin! How many a girl has deliberately turned from the love of parents and home to learn too late that heaven has been forfeited for snails!" </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Moody spoke those words a century ago, but people are still swapping heaven for snails. How about you? John the Baptist's words are for each of us: Are there some changes that need to be made in your life?</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">Moody's Anecdotes, Page 125-126, adapted by King Duncan</SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">I Will Be There </SPAN></div>
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<div style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Times New Roman', 'serif'; COLOR: #000000; FONT-SIZE: 12pt">In her wonderful children's picture book "We Were There: A Nativity Story," Eve Bunting (illustrator: Wendell Minor) turns Christmas upside down for us in ways that are revealing.<br>
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The simple story shows us first a slithering snake, then a warty toad, a scary scorpion, a shiny cockroach, a swooping bat, a hairy spider, and a furry rat all on a journey. Each creature introduces itself and then concludes with the words "I will be there."<br>
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As the book ends we are shown more common nativity creatures: fuzzy lambs, doe-eyed donkeys, gentle cows. But as those traditional figures in the stable stand around the manger in which the Babe has been laid by his mother Mary, we see in the corner, unnoticed, that small gathering of the snake, toad, scorpion, cockroach, bat, spider, and rat.<br>
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Bunting has found a lyric way to remind us that the coming of the Christ is not all about the traditional and cozy trappings in which we have for too long ensconced the Christmas story but that this is a story for all creatures and that Jesus came to embrace and renew the good, the bad, the ugly; the expected and the unexpected.<br>
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A simple children's story like this reminds us of the paradoxes and unexpected twists of the season, rather the way John the Baptist can shake things up for us if only we take time to listen to his message.<br>
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Scott Hoezee, Comments and Observations<br>
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