My name is Nate. I get to be one of the pastors here. This is the last week in our series called The Songs We Sing, where we're looking at some of the songs we sing as a congregation, finding them in Scripture and allowing that Scripture to imbue them with a greater purpose. To finish up the series, because of the timing of it, I wanted to do a Christmas song. And so I'll tell you the Christmas song we're going to do here in a little bit, but I thought it would be appropriate as we launch forward into December and all the things that we have waiting for us post Thanksgiving. Hopefully you got your house decorated yesterday. Our house was decorated in early November, so early that I asked Jen, can we please not put the wreaths out so our neighbors don't think we're crazy? So those are going out today. I've been listening to Christmas music since November the 1st. That's the rule in our house. And if you don't like it, you can shove it because that's what we do and that's what we like. And so I'm very, very ready for Christmas. But as we move into Christmas, there's something that I want to hit on and talk about that I mention every Christmas season, and this morning we're just going to rest there because I feel like it's good and appropriate, and you'll see why probably halfway through the sermon, but I also feel like God was in the direction and the theme of the message this week. Because I write these three weeks in advance, and I wrote this without knowing all that would happen this week. But I remember very vividly the Christmas that changed all Christmases. I remember the Christmas that was a clear delineation of, yeah, Christmas will never be again what it once was. I remember that Christmas. Growing up, Christmas was wonderful. It was magical. I don't know what your traditions are, what you do in your family for us. Now, sometimes we had to go to Florida and see my dad's side of the family and my step-grandpa and grandma and my weird cousins, and that wasn't as fun. You just did it. That's a family thing. That's where I started to learn that sometimes you do things for family, even though you don't want to, and you don't like them, and they don't like you, but we're going to perpetuate this for 30 years. So that's what I learned from that side of the family. But for the other side of the family, man, it was magical. So we would go every Christmas Eve, I think after service, I don't know, to Mama and Papa's house. I'm Southern, and so those are my grandparents' names. We would go to Mama and Papa's house, and we would have Christmas Eve dinner, and then we would open up all the presents from all the families, all the aunts and uncles. My mom has two sisters and a brother, so there's four kids, and then all their kids. I think I had five cousins and then different spouses through the years and things like that. So it was a big, full house, very fun. I've told you before that my Papa, I would be the Grinch, and he would be the sleigh, and we would sneak into the room and steal Mama's presents. It was very, very fun. And then we would go home. Santa would come, wake up the next morning. What does Santa bring us? We were allowed to pick our favorite toy, go back over to Mama and Papa's house. And we would spend the whole day there, leftover lunch. And the adults would play games. The kids would run around. It was super, super fun. And my Papa was the hub of all of this. He was the glue. He was the big, huge personality, so magnanimous and magnetic that everyone was drawn to him. Everybody loved him. And I always felt like I was his favorite because I was, and he told me so. But everybody loved Pawpaw. And then in the fall of 2000, when I was 19 years old, he had a massive heart attack and he passed away. And as Christmas approached, there was the sense in our family, and I guess it was amongst the children, the aunts and uncles, where they just said, you know, I'm just not sure if we're going to be able to make it through a normal Christmas at Mama and Papa's house. So maybe we should figure something else out. Because that Christmas was coming up and we all knew it was going to be hard. And so they decided in their infinite wisdom, you know what let's do? Instead of going to Mama and Papa's house, let's go to breakfast at the Ritz in downtown Atlanta. I think maybe Buckhead. Let's go to the Ritz-Carlton. They have a really good Christmas brunch breakfast. It's going to be great. And so that's what we decided to do. So I wake up Christmas morning and I shower. I've never showered on Christmas in my whole life. What am I doing? I would stumble out of bed, go down the stairs. What does Santa bring me? I'll perpetuate this as long as you need me to. If it gets me presents, what did Santa bring me? And then, you know, you'd go to Mama and Papa's house, but I'm just putting on some combination of sweats that I find probably on the floor of my room. I'm not getting dressed. I'm going with a hat on or bedhead. I'm not like doing my hair. And now all of a sudden I'm showering. And then I'm buttoning buttons. Who buttons buttons on Christmas? What a drag that is. You're supposed to be comfortable on Christmas. And I get all dressed up and we go down to the Ritz. And the Ritz is so nice that it feels like we don't belong there. It feels like someone's going to ask us to leave. Like a couple of weeks ago, I've got a good buddy who is, he works at one of the nicer country clubs in the area. And I played a round of golf with him, and then I had an elder meeting, and I needed to get the golf stink off of me, so he said, hey, I'll sneak you into the men's locker room. You can take a shower over there. So the whole time I'm taking a shower in the men's locker room, I'm just, I'm scared. Like, I'm hoping that nobody is going to ask me my member number, and they're going to ask me to leave because I don't have the net worth to shower with that water. Like I was, I was nervous. And so the whole time it was kind of like that sense the whole time we're at the Ritz, I'm afraid someone's going to come up to us and be like, I'm sorry, you're going to have to go eat with the poors. You guys can't be in here. It was just too nice. It was weird and it was rigid and I hated it. But I knew at that Christmas that Christmas would never be the same again, and it hasn't been. We have our own kids now. They understand the miracle and the majesty and the magic of Christmas, and it's fun again to see it through their eyes, and that joy is returning. But for me, that was the Christmas that marked the last really good Christmas. It was also the Christmas that taught me this. Christmas, and all that we're about to embark on, is a joyful season. It's good. It's magical. It's fun. I love going outside in the morning and making bacon and the steam is coming off the blackstone and I'm holding my mug and there's steam coming out of that and there's steam coming off of my breath. I like the wintertime. I like how Christmas time kind of ushers in that sense of winter. I like the decorations. I love the music. I love the themes that we do here at the church. I look forward to family jammy day every year. We all wear our Christmas jammies. I'm in for all of it. I love the parties, the elder party, the staff party, the other parties. I love them. It's great. Let's do all the Christmas stuff. Christmas is a joyful season. But that Christmas taught me that Christmas is a joyful season, but not for everyone every season. Christmas is a joyful season, but not for everyone every season. That year taught me that for some of us, Christmas is hard. And so as a pastor, I never want to move through a December with the hooray and the praise and the joy and the exuberance and't we all happy, and isn't this the best, and isn't this wonderful? And not acknowledge that for some in our faith family, no, this season is not wonderful. And some of you, I know some circumstances, some are unknown to me, but I know that some of you are facing hard Christmases. Some of you are looking at a Christmas that isn't going to be the same. You're looking at a Christmas and there's going to be an empty seat at the table. It's going to be hard. You're walking into Christmas and it's a reminder. Not of what you have. But of what you don't have. Of dreams crushed. Marriages shattered. Children prayed for but not yet received. I know those Christmases. For some of us, Christmas, this time of year, is a reminder of what we've loved and lost, of what we've yearned for and not been given, of what we've had and has been broken. And so we never want to move through a Christmas season without acknowledging that for some of us, some seasons, Christmas is hard. So if that's you this season, then this morning is for you. And I believe this song is for you. The song we're focused on this morning, if you have a bulletin, the cat's already out of the bag, is O Come Emmanuel. O Come Emmanuel. And I put this here, I was trying to decide between O Holy Night and O Come Emmanuel because I think O Holy Night might just be the best song lyrically that's ever been written. And Aaron gently told me, we're not doing that twice. Okay. We're not, we're not going to do that here. And then again on Christmas Eve. So you got to pick. So I went with O Come Emmanuel. That was it. That was a whole thought process because I do love this song and I do think it's, it's really lyrically rich and important. And I think it's a great Christmas song. If you're not familiar with it, you will be by the end of the service today, I promise you. But most of us probably know that. What I did not know about O Come Emmanuel is how sad it is, how much the song languishes, how much it expresses this yearning, not, oh, Jesus, come because we want to celebrate you, but Jesus, come because we need you, because this place is broken and life is hard. I live in a world where bad things happen to good people and it doesn't make sense, so Jesus, please come. What I did not know is that it is steeped in scripture and it is absolutely the anthem for those of us for whom Christmas is hard this year or in future years. So I want to show you what I mean. I'm going to read you the lyrics where if you Google O Come Emmanuel, you'll find a bunch of verses and stanzas, a bunch of lyrics. And so it's kind of like, which ones are we going to sing? So I had to ask Aaron, our worship pastor, which one are we doing? He told me which one. And we're singing three verses in there. And so from just those three verses, I want you to see how much scripture is packed into the words that we're going to sing here at the close of the service. So the first verse of O Come, Emmanuel goes like this. I'm not going to sing it to you. O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appears. So I want you to see first and foremost that the whole name of the song, and this isn't going to be on the screen, is O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. And that comes directly from Isaiah chapter 7, verse 14. And if you have the notes, if you have the bulletin, you want to write that down, you can check my references. But that comes from Isaiah 7, verse 14, where it's the end of a long messianic prophecy. I'm probably going to say messianic prophecy a couple of times in the sermon. That simply means an Old Testament prophecy that is about Jesus, the Messiah. So it's a messianic prophecy. And the conclusion of that, it tells us all these things about Jesus and who he's going to be. And then at the end, he says, and his name will be called Emmanuel, which means God with us. It might be the most remarkable name of Jesus because it captures within it the truth that he came down from heaven. He condescended and took on flesh and became like man, became man to be with us. Emmanuel captures who Jesus was and is. So first we see from the very first line that it's pulled right out of Isaiah chapter 7. And then with the rest of it about ransom captive Israel, that comes from Isaiah 35 10. And it's there at the bottom of the screen. Those who have been ransomed by the Lord will return. They will enter Jerusalem singing, crowned with everlasting joy. Sorrow and mourning will disappear and they will be filled with joy and gladness. So the author of this song, the writer of this song pulls this right out of this prophecy in Isaiah 35 where he refers to Jesus as the ransomed of the Lord. He comes to pay the ransom, or he refers to us as the ransomed, and he is the payment for that ransom. And there's an allusion here in the verse that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appears. In this verse of the song, we see this languishing and this anguish of the nation of Israel crying out to God, God, we don't belong here. There's something not right here. Will you please come and get us? Will you please come and pay our ransom? We are enslaved and we are in another nation in which we don't belong. And when we see the nation of Israel referred to in Scripture, it does and often is referring to the actual physical nation of Israel and the citizens of that nation, but it is also almost always referring to the children of God and those who believe in God. So the church, you and me, if we have placed our faith in Christ, and so this resonates with us. We resonate with the words in Isaiah 35 that God is coming to ransom us, that we feel like they feel, that we don't belong here. We are in lonely exile. There has to be something more than this place. There has to be something more than this world that you have to offer. Would you take me from here and bring me to heaven? It's a cry for us to be relieved of this. And then we move into the next verse that we're going to sing. It goes like this, O come thou day spring, come and cheer our spirits by thine advent here. Disperse the gloomy clouds of night and death's dark shadows put to flight. This is taken from the end of Luke chapter 1, verses 78 and 79. What a long chapter. Because of God's tender mercy, the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death and to guide us to the path of peace. So we see again, the author of the song pulls directly out of Luke, and he puts to song the expression of these verses at the end of the prophecy in Luke chapter 1. Oh, come thou dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by thine advent here. They are saying, we are sad, We are depressed. Life is hard. This is a bad Christmas for us. We feel broken. It's right there in the words. Come cheer our spirits. We need you. By thine advent here. Clouds cover my vision and blot out my hope. I feel in the depths of despair, Emmanuel, come. Please come, O day spring, and cheer us and disperse these clouds. The last verse. O come, desire of nations, bind in one the hearts of, straight out of Scripture, straight out of Haggai, the desire of the nations. Other translations have it as the treasure of the nations, but I like this one better. This is King James. I like the desire of the nations. Whether you know it or not, whether you realize it or not, if this is your first Sunday in church, your soul has longed for Jesus your whole life. He is the desire of you, the desire of me, the desire of all the nations. And I love the titling here in that verse. And then the prayer is that he would bid thou our sad division cease and be thyself our king of peace, taken right out of the classic Christmas story in Luke chapter 2 beginning in verse 13 and suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying glory to God in the highest and on earth peace and goodwill towards men. This is the gift of Jesus that he brings peace and so so the prayer in the song of come Emmanuel is, would you please bring peace and would our sad divisions cease? It's the understanding that when Jesus shows up, he's going to heal things and bring peace with us. It's the understanding that when Jesus shows up, I don't know if you've thought about this, but when Jesus shows up, he will demolish and abolish. What's the word I'm looking for? Different denominations. He will demolish and abolish denominations. There will be no more Presbyterians. Praise Jesus. We will all, we will all of us, do you know this? We will all be Pentecostal. We will be. We'll be filled with the Spirit. We'll be cheering. We'll be going nuts. The Pentecostals in the end, they're going to win. I'm telling you. There will be no more Baptists. That's not going to happen. No more Catholics. They can drop it with the robes. None of that stuff. He's going to demolish denominations because we don't need those. Those divide us. He's going to heal our family wounds. Some of y'all, your Christmas is going to be tough. And it's not going to be tough because you've lost someone. It's going to be tough because that someone's still sitting there. And they're hard to get along with. And someone that I love very much has taught me that hurt people hurt people. And me and him know that because we hurt each other often. But we always reconcile very quickly. Some of us, there's division, there's hardship in our families. And it's not because the people in your families are bad. It's because hurt people hurt people. And they don't know how to heal themselves. More than likely the ship has sailed on that healing. So they just need grace. And when Jesus comes, he's going to heal them so that they can love you perfectly as Jesus loves them. This prayer, this song is a prayer that Jesus would come and he would heal our divisions. That what's happening in the Gaza Strip would not happen anymore. That warring cultures would find peace and love with one another. That hurting families would be healed and be able to love one another well. That his own body, the church, would knock it off with the divisions and the denominations and would come together, finally answering Jesus' prayer of unity in John 17. That's what this song is for. And so if you sit down with the words of O Come, Emmanuel, what you see is that it's a song of pain. It's a song of languishing. It's a song of hardship. And what we learn from this song is that a right and good response to despair is to long for the return and redemption of Jesus. That's what this song teaches us. That a right and good response to despair is to long for the return and the redemption of Jesus. That when something happens that we can't explain, it's right and good and biblical to say, come Lord Jesus, we need you. That's why I went through the pains of showing you all the verses that are expressed in this song that says over and over again, oh, come, Emmanuel, oh, come, Emmanuel, oh, come, thou dayspring, oh, come, desire of nations, all different names of Jesus. Jesus, come, we need you. When something happens that's hard, that we don't understand, that wrecks us, it's a right, good, biblical, righteous response to say, Lord Jesus, come. This Monday morning, this last week, like a lot of you here, I woke up to a text from Julie Sauls. Julie is on staff with us and does a little bit of everything. Howard is her faithful husband and a good friend to a lot of us. And I woke up to a text that he had had a stroke at about 4 a.m. He had been rushed to the ER and then rushed to another ER. That he was in surgery. There was 100% blockage in his carotid artery. And that they did not know. They didn't know. They didn't know if he was going to make it. They didn't know if he was going to be okay if he did make it. They didn't know what recovery might look like. They didn't even know what was happening in the surgery room. They just knew that he was there and it was serious. And if you don't know Howard, and I hesitate to say this because it's going to get back to, and I'll have to own up to it. This is for him. That's the only reason I'm wearing this stupid-looking tar heel on myself. He's a big fan. Jules, if you and Howard are watching the hospital, here you go, pal. And don't tell him this next part. If you don't know Howard, it's to your detriment. He's one of the good ones. Genuinely good. What I always say about Howard is whenever there's something happening at the church, some function, and things need to be done, if you try to figure out the crappiest job, Howard's already doing it. That's Howard. He's a good man. He's far too young to be having strokes. And as Jen and I were talking on Monday, Lily, our daughter, who's nearly eight, could just sense that something was up. So she started asking questions. And in the best way we could, we tried to explain to her what a stroke was and what that meant, what the potential road ahead for Mr. Howard was going to be. And Jen asked Lily, do you remember what Mr. Howard says to you every week when you come to church? And she responded, every week, as Lily and the family are walking down the sidewalk, most of the time Howard's outside, and when he sees her, he always says, Lily. And she acts embarrassed, but she loves it. And Jen said, do you remember what Mr. Howard says to you? And she said it. And when she said it, I just kind of got up and I hid my face from Lily. And I put my face on Jen's shoulder and I cried. And I told her, I really hate my job sometimes. Because I don't want to be the person that has to bring comfort here. Because I don't know how to do that. Because that morning, we didn't know if Howard was okay. I didn't know if I'd ever hear my friend's voice again. I didn't know if his kids would get to hear him say their name again. If Julie would ever hug him again. I didn't know. And I didn't want to have to be the pastor to come back here and be like, well, there's a reason for everything. So I cried. And we're thankful to know that there was just been a slow trickle of good news since then. Howard's doing well. He's moving both sides of his body, starting to speak. We're praying for a full recovery. He's gaining on it bit by bit. And there are others here who have walked that same path. And we know it's hard. And so I'm glad that he's doing better and I'll tell you what else I'm glad about. Jen went to see Julie and Mackenzie, his daughter, yesterday at the hospital. And Julie was choking up, bragging about you guys, about how this church has shown up for them, about how we have loved on them. And it just makes me so proud to be a pastor of a church that does that. I tell everybody I can, we've got the best church ladies in the business. But in the middle, I'm trying to compose myself so that Lily didn't see me crying. I remembered that I was preaching this on Sunday. I remembered that God put it here. And I remembered that it was okay to not feel like I had to be the agent of comfort. That it was okay instead to be able to respond with my church, oh come, oh come, Emmanuel. Jesus, please come. Please come and end this stuff. Please come and make the wrong things right and the sad things untrue. Please come so that I don't have to answer questions. I got a question this morning. It's the question to ask. I saw somebody, very first thing out of their mouth, why do bad things happen to good people? Brother, I don't know. And we're not going to know. We can ask that question all we want. I'll just tell you as a pastor, there's no answer to that. We're not going to know this side of eternity. I know that if I were God, I would mess it up, but bad things wouldn't happen to good people. But when we get to eternity, we're going to know why they do. On this side of eternity, I don't know. What I do know is that it is right and good and biblical and righteous when we hurt to say, Jesus, come. Just stop this pain. Stop these wars. Stop cancer. Knock it off with the empty chairs at the dinner table. Heal the people who hurt us. Jesus, come. This place isn't right. This world doesn't fit. I know that this isn't what you want, God. Send your son to redeem us, to get us again. Jesus, come. It's right and good in pain and in disappointment and in loss and in loneliness and in despair and in depression, to not have an answer for it, to not see a silver lining, to simply throw your hands up and put your head down and say, Jesus, please come and rescue this. It's a mess. Please come. That's what this song is. God, it's a mess. Please come. Send your son. Rescue us. Fix this. Let us exist in your perfect peace. Jesus, come. It's a right and good response to despair. And here's why this song is a Christmas song. Because Christmas reminds us that Jesus has come and instills hope that he will do it again. That's what Christmas is. Christmas reminds us every year Jesus has come. And because of that it instills hope that he will come again. Every year we acknowledge Jesus did come. He did come as a baby, meek and humble and lowly. He did come in a manger to a Virgin Mary and to a father, Joseph. He did arrive in Bethlehem that day. He was taken back to Nazareth. He did live a perfect life and die a perfect death. He did come. God did keep his promise that he made to Abraham 4,000 years prior that the nation of Israel clung to generation after generation as they are subjected to judges and terrible kings and slavery and being drug away from their nation. And they see the temple being built and they see it being torn down and they see it rebuilt again and they weep because it's a shadow of what it was. Through all of that, God was with them and God kept his promise. And we see God keeping his promise in the beginning of the gospels and the Christmas stories. And that's what we celebrate, that God kept his promise and he sent his son. So Christmas reminds us that Jesus has already been here. He came. God did what he said he would do. And because he did, because we saw that promise fulfilled after 4,000 years of waiting, we know that he will keep it again one day too. And we can cling to that promise. That's what being a Christian is. It's believing that it was Jesus who did come in a manger that day, that he did die on the cross, that he did go to prepare a place for us, and one day, we don't know when it will be, but one day he will come crashing back through the clouds and he will claim us and he will make the wrong things right and the sad things untrue. We know that to be true. To be a Christian is to cling to that hope. And so sometimes that hope gets covered over by the clouds of night. Sometimes circumstances make our tether to that hope fragile and thin. Sometimes things happen that we don't understand that we'll never be able to explain. And when they do, we cling to that hope that Jesus will come again and we say, do it soon, Lord. Do it soon. That's what we sing when we sing, O come, Emmanuel. That's what we celebrate when we celebrate Christmas. Jesus did come, and because I believe he did, I know that he will again. That's what Christmas reminds us of. So even if this Christmas is a hard one for you, we have this song, this anthem to declare. And the good news about this song is, it's not just the bad stuff. Oh, come, Jesus, it's hard here. The chorus is rejoice. Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel. Rejoice, oh, rejoice, because he's coming again. He came for you and he will come again. Rejoice, rejoice. We have reason to rejoice. And so here's the invitation. In a few minutes, we're going to sing this song together. If this Christmas is hard for you, I want you to declare this. To throw up your hands and to put down your head and to say, Jesus, come. This is hard. Come. And choose to rejoice in that truth. Here's the other thing. If you're in a good season, and this Christmas is a good one, you're blessed, and you're happy, and you're joyful. And you have all the things and all the people around you that you want to have around you, and you're looking forward to a truly joyful Christmas season. Wonderful. Here's what I want to ask you to do. I want you to sing. I want you to sing as loud as you can, because I want you to be the voice for people who can't muster that voice this morning. If they don't have the strength to sing, let them hear you singing. For those of us that don't have the voice to rejoice yet, let's let our church family carry us with their voice to God's throne as we declare this. So we're going to do that in a few minutes together. But before we do that, we're going to have communion together. Because we thought it would be right and good and appropriate to finish up this series and usher in the Christmas series by doing communion together as a church. Communion is one of the traditions that Jesus himself started. At the Last Supper, the night he was arrested, yeah, the elders can come forward and start to set things up. At the Last Supper, the night he was arrested, Jesus took bread and he broke it. And he handed it to the disciples and he says, this is my body that's broken for you. And then he took the wine and he poured it. And he says, this is my blood that spilled out for you. Every time you do these things, I want you to do them in remembrance of me. And so churches through the millennia have observed communion. The body, the bread is God's body that was broken for us. After he lived a perfect life, he died a perfect death. The blood, the juice is the blood that was spilled out for us in that perfect death. And in celebrating communion, we acknowledge that to live sometimes is to suffer. But Jesus took on the greatest suffering on the cross. He became suffering for us so that one day we would have to suffer no more. He is the Prince of Peace and He did keep the promises and He will fulfill them again, and we see the depiction of that on the cross as He suffers for us so that we don't have to. He didn't come to just be a baby and live a life. He came to die that death. And so it's good for us to acknowledge that here too. So here's what I'm going to ask you to do. I'm going to invite you to stand and then we're going to pray together and then we'll take communion and then we're going to close the service out with O Come Emmanuel and then we'll go into our weeks. Father, thank you for communion. Thank you for sending your son who became Emmanuel, God with us. Thank you for the perfect life that he lived. Thank you for the death that he died for us. Lord, as we prepare our hearts to take communion, I just pray that we would allow you to do work within us, to rid us of what doesn't need to be there, to infuse us with what does. God, I lift up those for whom this Christmas is going to be challenging. I pray that they would take this song and this desire for you to return as their anthem that would encourage them through this season. God, we lift up Howard as he recovers. Be with him in that recovery. We lift up the other people in our church who are hurting now. We hurt with them and you hurt with them and we pray that you would heal them too. God, we pray all of these things in the name of your son, Emmanuel. Amen.