The Angels' Song | A Sermon on Luke 2:8-14

Introduction
Today is the 3^rd Sunday in Advent.  The word Advent actually means, “coming” or “arrival.”
Advent is a time to remember Christ’s first coming as a baby in Bethlehem.
Advent is also a time to prepare their hearts for His coming into their lives today.
Advent is also a time to look forward to His promised coming again in glory.

In the season of Advent, there are four Sundays, and each one is marked by lighting a candle on the Advent wreath. On the first Sunday, we light the candle of Hope, recognizing the hope we have in Jesus Christ. On the second Sunday, we light the candle of Peace, symbolizing the peace we have in Christ. When we follow Him, we have nothing to fear when He comes again, because we are at peace with God, at peace with His people, and secure in His promises.  Then on the third Sunday, we light the third candle, which is often pink or lavender. This candle represents the Joy we have in Christ—a reminder that even in a season of waiting, joy breaks in because our Savior is near.

So far we have studied Mary’s song and Zechariah’s song.
Today, we will look at the Angel’s song.

Luke 2:8-14
⁸ That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. ⁹ Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, ¹⁰ but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. ¹¹ The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! ¹² And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

¹³ Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,

¹⁴ “Glory to God in highest heaven,
    and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”

Shepherds in Bethlehem
According to the first-century Jewish historian Josephus, hundreds of thousands of sheep were sacrificed in Jerusalem every year. In the Temple—especially during major festivals like Passover—sacrifices were happening constantly. During Passover, pilgrims came from all over the world. The population of Jerusalem could swell from around 20,000 people to well over a million. Every family wanted to offer a sacrifice, and that meant an enormous demand for sheep.

So where did all those sheep come from?  
They came from across the region. No single area could supply them all. But Bethlehem was one of the main suppliers of sheep for the sacrificial system. It was close to Jerusalem, had excellent pasture land, and made it easy to raise sheep and transport them quickly to the Temple.

That’s why it makes perfect sense that Luke tells us there were shepherds out in the fields near Bethlehem. When I was a kid, I pictured just a few shepherds and a handful of sheep. But the reality was far bigger. At any given time, there were likely 15,000 to 30,000 sheep being raised in the Bethlehem region. Not enough to supply all of Jerusalem’s needs—but a significant portion.

Now think about that.
Fifteen to thirty thousand sheep.

When you drive around Whitfield County and see cattle spread across the land, you know there are a lot of them—but imagine 30,000 animals concentrated in one region. That’s enormous.

A skilled shepherd could manage about 50 to 100 sheep, which means we’re talking about 200 to 400 shepherds working throughout the Bethlehem area. This wasn’t a hobby—it was a major agricultural operation.

And these shepherds—what were they like?

A shepherd in the first century was a lot like what we might think of today as a cowboy. Rugged. Tough. Outdoors almost all the time. Physical labor. Long hours. They often slept out in the fields, just like cowboys driving cattle across the plains. They didn’t clock out at the end of the day. Someone always had to watch the sheep.

They faced danger constantly. Predators. Thieves. Weather. It didn’t matter if it was hot, cold, raining, or freezing—they were out there. With tens of thousands of sheep, it would have been easy for someone desperate or hungry to slip in and steal a few animals without anyone noticing. But the shepherds were alert, watchful, and responsible. Their job was to make sure none were lost.

They were also resourceful. You can’t carry everything with you when you live outdoors. You learn to make do—to turn a rock into a hammer, a stick into a tool, to solve problems with whatever you have on hand. These were men who knew how to survive in harsh conditions.

But that life also made them social outsiders. Shepherds were rough. They didn’t smell great. There weren’t showers out in the fields. They worked with animals constantly. If you’ve ever been around goats—or sheep—you know the smell sticks with you. And socially, they weren’t polished. They spoke plainly. Sometimes bluntly. They didn’t always have filters. These weren’t the people you invited to polite dinner parties.

They were also essential workers. Sheep don’t take holidays off. It didn’t matter if it was Passover or any other holy day—someone had to stay with the flock. They missed religious gatherings, family celebrations, and festivals. They’re a lot like nurses and doctors today—people who still work on Christmas because life doesn’t stop for holidays. Babies don’t wait to be born. And sheep still need care.

And remember David. Before he was king, he was a shepherd. When Samuel came to anoint the next king of Israel, David wasn’t even invited into the room. Someone had to watch the sheep. He was forgotten—until God said, “Bring him to me.”

That’s who these shepherds were.
Often overlooked.
Often forgotten.
But just as God didn’t overlook David, He didn’t overlook these shepherds either.

And on the night Jesus was born, they were the ones heaven came looking for.

“How Do You Spot a Spotless Lamb?”
Shepherds had another skill that would have been especially important on that night.

Shepherds knew how to spot a spotless lamb.

Many of the sheep they watched in the fields were destined for sacrifice in Jerusalem. But you couldn’t just send any sheep to the Temple. It had to be perfect—no limp, no blemish, no deformity. Even its teeth mattered. God required the very best.

Now, if you and I saw a newborn lamb, we’d probably just say, “Oh, how cute!” But shepherds saw more than that. They could look at one lamb and say, “This one won’t survive. Something’s wrong.” They’d look at another and say, “This one will live, but it’s ordinary. You could sell it, use it for food of wool, but this one isn’t fit for sacrifice.”

And then they’d see another lamb and say, “This one is pure. This one is spotless. Set this one aside. This is the kind of lamb you bring to God.”

They knew how to spot it.

So when the angels appeared and told the shepherds to go to Bethlehem, they weren’t just saying, “Go see a baby.”  They were saying, “Go see the Lamb of God.”

And the shepherds would know exactly what they were looking at when they found Him.

The Angels: Reality vs. Myth (Baby Angels)
And that brings us to the other prominent characters in this story—the angels.

First, an unnamed angel appears. Scripture doesn’t tell us his name. It could have been Gabriel, since Gabriel has been active throughout these events—appearing to Zechariah, to Mary, and to Joseph. But Luke doesn’t say, so we won’t assume. What we do know is this: when the angel appears, the glory of the Lord surrounds the shepherds. Not just the angel—but the shepherds themselves are engulfed in God’s radiant presence.

And the angel says, “Do not be afraid.”

Now, shepherds were not easily frightened. These were tough, rugged men—outdoorsmen who protected sheep at night from predators and thieves. But when an angel appears and the glory of the Lord surrounds you, it’s no wonder that even the toughest shepherd—or cowboy—would be shaking in his sandals.

The angel’s first words make sense: “Do not be afraid.”

Our modern images of angels don’t help us much here—just like our modern images of shepherds. We tend to picture angels as little babies floating through the sky with wings—cute, gentle, harmless. But that image comes from art and tradition, not Scripture. The Bible never describes angels as babies.

In fact, throughout the Old Testament, angels usually appear human-like—often mistaken for ordinary people. Angels visited Abraham, sat with him, and even ate with him. Sometimes you don’t realize you’re dealing with an angel at all.

But this angel is different. This angel is radiant and glorious, unmistakably supernatural, shining with the light of God’s presence. I included an image of an angel—not because it’s perfect, but because it helps us imagine something closer to the biblical picture. This angel is powerful. Clothed like a warrior. Radiating fire. Not soft. Not harmless.

And that matters—because this angel is not alone.  He is soon joined by a heavenly host—literally, the armies of heaven. This language is military language. These are not decorative beings. These are soldiers. Holy. Pure. Powerful. God’s messengers and God’s warriors.

And yet—here’s the surprise—they don’t come to fight.  They come to sing.  That alone tells us something profound about the kind of King who has just been born.

God’s Message
Throughout Scripture, angels are God’s messengers, sent to deliver His word to His people. And the message they bring that night is good news of great joy—and it is for all people.

Not just for important people.
Not just for those in the city.
Not just for those who attended the great religious festivals.
It was for the shepherds out in the fields—the ones people overlooked, forgot about, and didn’t want to be around because they were rough, unpolished, and, quite frankly, smelled like sheep.

The message is for all people.  Not just the Jewish people—but Gentiles as well.
This is good news because a Savior has been born—the Messiah, the Lord, born today in Bethlehem.

People were already longing for a savior. Not only the Jews, but the Romans too. But their idea of a savior was a powerful military leader—someone who would enforce peace through strength, domination, and fear.  

This Savior is different. 
He is the Messiah—the Anointed One, appointed by God from King David’s royal line.
He is the Lord—the one with true authority and sovereignty over all.
And that’s especially striking because in Rome, Caesar was often called “Lord.”  But in this announcement, God is saying:  “I am sending the true Lord—the Lord of lords, the King of kings.”

Not a ruler who forces obedience, but a King who brings peace by His presence.

The Angels’ Song
And then—suddenly—this one angel is joined by a host of angels, the armies of heaven.

Now think about that. One angel appearing would have been overwhelming enough. But the word Luke uses is plural—armies. Not a single unit. Not a small group. Multiple armies of heaven filling the sky. How many were there? Scripture doesn’t say. All we know is that heaven opened, and the shepherds were standing there, trembling in their sandals.

And then the angels sing:

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”

We can hardly imagine the sound. Not one voice, but armies of angels lifting their voices together in thunderous praise.

Picture the scene.
The armies of heaven surge onto the field.  They assemble in formation.  They are poised—ready, powerful, overwhelming.  And then they stop.

They do not advance.
They do not invade.
They do not fight.

Instead, they sing God’s glory.  They announce God’s peace.
And the sign of it all—the proof of heaven’s message—is not a weapon, not a throne, not a fortress.

It is a baby.  A spotless Lamb, born in a manger.

Key Take Aways
Now, there are three key takeaways I want to leave you with today.

First: God still comes to ordinary people.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re nothing special—just an ordinary person—if you’ve ever felt forgotten, overlooked, or unnoticed, hear this clearly: God does not overlook anyone. He does not forget anyone.

The fact that God sent His messengers to shepherds reminds us that He comes to all people. That includes you. You matter to God. You are seen. You are not forgotten.

Second: Heaven declares peace, not war.
When the armies of heaven appeared that night, it must have been terrifying. But the angel said, “Do not be afraid. I bring good news of great joy.”

That matters for us today. God is here with us right now. He is present in this sanctuary. And He comes in peace.  God is not here to crush you.  God is not here to punish you.  Though He would be justified in judgment, He comes instead with mercy. He extends the olive branch.  

The armies of heaven show us what God could do.  The baby in the manger shows us what God chooses to do instead.  And that is why we have every reason to be full of joy—not because we deserve it, but because God comes to us in grace.

Third: Peace requires surrender.

When the God of heaven says, “I come in peace,” there is still a response required. You cannot have peace with God while continuing to resist Him. You cannot receive peace while still fighting against the King.

Peace comes when we surrender—when we lay down our resistance and submit to the rightful ruler.  So as we prepare to close this morning, here is the question for each of us to consider:

Is there any part of your life where you are still resisting God’s peace?
He does not come to attack you.  But too often, we are still fighting Him.  And in His mercy, He holds back.  In His grace, He waits.  In His love, He offers peace—again and again.  

The invitation is still open.  Will you accept God's rightful rule in your life and receive peace?

Mary's Song | A Sermon on Luke 1:46-55

Introduction
I’ve always felt like Christmas and music naturally go together. When I was a little boy, that was one of my favorite parts of the season. Even as a young child, our family was always singing Christmas carols—whether we were at home, riding in the car, or out running errands.

Honestly, I think my mom used singing to keep us occupied. We didn’t have smartphones back then, and half the time we weren’t even buckled in. We were just bouncing around the car while she tried to do her Christmas shopping with four kids in tow. She needed something to keep us under control, so she sang carols with us.

Those memories are deeply ingrained in me, and I think it’s fitting—because music has always been a part of Christmas.

Over the next few weeks, we will study the songs of Christmas from the Bible. In the Bible, Christmas has always had music.  Not about snow or mistletoe; about Jesus. Several prophecies, songs, and psalms in the Old Testament foretold Jesus’ birth. And in the New Testament we have the angels singing gloria to announce the birth to shepherds. But, before angels sang, before shepherds rejoiced, before wise men bowed—there was a young girl who trusted God enough to bear His Son.  And Mary sang a song about it.  Mary’s Song (also known as Mary’s Magnificat) is found in Luke 1:46-55.

Luke 1:46-55
⁴⁶ Mary responded,
“Oh, how my soul praises the Lord.
⁴⁷     How my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!
⁴⁸ For he took notice of his lowly servant girl,
    and from now on all generations will call me blessed.
⁴⁹ For the Mighty One is holy,
    and he has done great things for me.
⁵⁰ He shows mercy from generation to generation
    to all who fear him.
⁵¹ His mighty arm has done tremendous things!
    He has scattered the proud and haughty ones.
⁵² He has brought down princes from their thrones
    and exalted the humble.
⁵³ He has filled the hungry with good things
    and sent the rich away with empty hands.
⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel
    and remembered to be merciful.
⁵⁵ For he made this promise to our ancestors,
    to Abraham and his children forever.”

Who Was Mary?
When Mary sang this beautiful song of praise, she was likely only about 13 years old. In her culture, girls typically married between 13 and 16.

She came from an obscure little town—Nazareth—and yet she carried an extraordinary lineage. Most people know she was a descendant of King David, but they often forget she was also connected to the priestly line of Aaron. That means Jesus was born to her both as King and Priest—the perfect fulfillment of God’s plan.

Mary was a woman of deep faith, humility, and trust. And that matters, because we often think praise is something we offer after God answers our prayers—when life is good, when things make sense. But Mary praised God before any of it made sense. She trusted God even though His plan would first lead her through hardship.

She was betrothed to Joseph but not yet married, and now she was pregnant—claiming, truthfully, that the child was conceived by the Holy Spirit. Imagine having to explain that to your parents, your neighbors, and to Joseph, the man preparing to marry you. It wasn’t just embarrassing—it was dangerous. In her culture, an unwed pregnancy could cost you your life.

And yet Mary still said, “My soul magnifies the Lord.”

Mary Praises God
She sees and trusts that God is going to do great things. She even says, “He has done great things for me.” Now, most people in a life-threatening, humiliating situation like hers wouldn’t be saying, “God has done great things for me.” But Mary does. Through the eyes of faith, she looks far beyond her present circumstances and says, “Generations will call me blessed.”

How many of us have that kind of faith when we’re facing difficulty? When the situation seems overwhelming—when all we can see is sorrow, struggle, or hardship—can we still say, “The Lord has done great things for me”?

Can you see beyond the obstacle in front of you to the blessing God intends to bring in the future?

The Great Reversal
Mary sings about the dramatic changes God is going to bring through her Son. Her song announces what I call the Great Reversal. God is going to overturn the usual way the world works.

He scatters the proud and exalts the humble.
He fills the hungry and sends the rich away empty.

These are powerful statements. In fact, they can even be threatening. They were in Jesus’ day. There were powerful people—religious, political, and wealthy—who thought very highly of themselves, dressed in fine clothes, and expected everyone else to look up to them. And then there were the lowly—poor, dirty, ignored, and pushed aside.

Yet Mary declares that God is going to reverse all of it.
He will lift up the humble.
He will bring down the proud.
He will feed the hungry, and the rich will walk away empty-handed.

And this dynamic hasn’t been unique to Jesus’ day. It has existed in every time and every place. What we might see as a harmless little passage has often been viewed as dangerous.

Did you know this passage has actually been outlawed or banned by several governments?

• During British rule in India (1910s–1940s), authorities discouraged Indian Christians from reading Mary’s Song because it inspired hope for the oppressed.

• In the 1930s and 40s, Nazi Germany also restricted it for the same reason.

• Other regimes have done likewise, fearing its message of God overturning unjust power.

When people cling to their own kingdom—when they want to stay in control—Mary’s song is a threat. It declares, “It’s not about you. It’s about God’s kingdom.”  Some people don’t like that.

So what does this Great Reversal mean for us?  Most of us may not feel wealthy, but compared to much of the world, we are. We have resources. We have influence. We like to be respected. And Mary’s Song reminds us:

Stay humble.
Don’t be too proud.  Take pride in your work, but don’t think the world revolves around you.  Don’t look down on others because they have less.  Don’t think you are better than anyone else.  If pride takes root, Mary warns us: Christ will scatter the proud and lift up the humble.

And don’t trust in your riches.
The Bible doesn’t condemn having wealth—many heroes of faith were wealthy. The issue isn’t possession, but dependence.  The danger comes when we trust our wealth, our position, or our status more than we trust the Lord. Wealth can disappear in a moment. It cannot save us, protect us, or give us identity.

Our trust must be in God alone.  Because God, through Christ, still scatters the proud, exalts the humble, fills the hungry, and sends the rich away empty.

The Greatest Reversal
But Mary’s not just singing of social reversals.  She is announcing the greatest reversal in human history.  As Isaac Watts wrote in Joy to the World:  “No more let sins and sorrows grow, Nor thorns infest the ground! He comes to make His blessings flow Far as the curse is found Far as the curse is found Far as, far as the curse is found.”

Jesus reverses the curse of Genesis 3,
the curse brought on us by Adam and Eve’s sin in the garden.  

You may remember the specifics of the curse: pain in childbirth.  But as I thought about that this morning, it’s not just the pain of childbirth—it’s also the pain of raising children.  There are all kinds of pain wrapped up in parenting.  Sometimes it’s as simple—and as heartbreaking—as watching your kids grow up and move out. There’s a joy in seeing them become who God created them to be, but it also leaves a hole where they once were. That’s a kind of pain you can’t avoid—and honestly, you wouldn’t want to. It means they’re growing.

There’s also the pain that comes from generational differences.  I hear my kids talk sometimes and think, “They’re just young whippersnappers—they have no idea!” And then I remember I used to think my parents views seemed old-fashioned to me; and now my kids think my views are old-fashioned. And one day their kids will think the same about them. Every generation thinks differently. That’s part of the curse—this tension, this inability to fully see eye to eye.

Then there’s the curse on marriage.  God told Eve that her relationship with Adam would be strained:
“Your husband will rule over you.”  In other words, what was once perfect unity would now be marked by conflict, power struggles, and misunderstandings.

There’s also the curse on the ground.  God told Adam he would have to scratch out a living from the dust and that the soil itself would fight him—thorns and thistles instead of fruit. That’s why I love that line from the hymn Joy to the World:  “No more let sins and sorrows grow, nor thorns infest the ground.”

Imagine being a gardener with no weeds, no thistles, no pests… everything you plant just springs up beautifully. Anyone who has ever worked in a garden knows that is not the world we live in. Gardening is often a battle.

And finally, there is the curse of physical death.  Our bodies wear out. We grow tired. And eventually, we pass away.  

But Jesus came to reverse all of this.  Imagine:

• No more pain in childbirth—or in raising children

• No more strain in marriage, but perfect unity and harmony

• No more curse on the ground—work becoming joy instead of toil

• No more physical death—eternal life with our King

This is what Mary is singing about.  
Her Son came to undo the curse and restore the world to what God always intended it to be.

Closing
Mary didn’t fully understand God’s plan. 
She didn’t know she’d flee to Egypt.
She didn’t know she’d watch her Son die for the sins of the world.
She didn’t know He would rise from the tomb.

But she knew this: 
God keeps His promises.  God sees the humble.  God lifts the lowly. God saves His people. 
And so she sang.

The first Christmas carol is not about nostalgia, snow, or sleigh bells.
The first Christmas carol was sung by a teenage girl who believed the impossible—
that God was about to undo the Curse and rewrite human history.

The same God who did great things for Mary wants to do great things in you.

The same God who brought His Son into the world through her trust
is still looking for people who will say, 
“I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.”

So today, as we enter this Advent season,
may your soul magnify the Lord,
may your spirit rejoice in God your Savior,
and may you trust that Christ has come to reverse every curse, heal every wound,
and make “His blessings flow far as the curse is found”—even to you.

 

The Song od the Savior | A Message from Luke 2:8-14

Introduction
We’ll have a short sermon today, because the main message is in the music the choir sings though our cantata.  Music is a divine gift that touches the soul in ways nothing else can. It reaches beyond words, stirring emotions and memories buried deep within us. I have a friend here in Dalton whose mother has Alzheimer’s.  She cannot remember much, but whenever my friend visits her in the nursing home, he brings a guitar and she plays and they sing together.  Somehow the music resets her memory and she remembers the songs they used to sing together when my friend was a boy.  Music is a language of the heart, bridging the gap between the seen and the unseen, the known and the mysterious.  Truly, music reflects the beauty and creativity of our Creator. 

I want to read a passage from Luke 2:8-14 about the heavenly music that announced the Savior’s birth.

Luke 2:8-14
⁸ That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. ⁹ Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, ¹⁰ but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. ¹¹ The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! ¹² And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

¹³ Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,

¹⁴ “Glory to God in highest heaven,
    and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”

The Message in the Music
Did you know, this is the only time recorded in Scripture where angels sang music to humans on earth?  There are several places where the Bible records heavenly being singing or playing music in heaven, but this is the only time the angels sang to people on earth.

And as they sang, they proclaimed glory to God and peace on earth.  The birth of Christ was a unique moment in history when Heaven broke through to shower God’s glory on earth as the angels announced the Son of God’s birth.  God became a human and was born as a baby.

The angels' song highlights Jesus as the bringer of peace and reconciliation.  True peace comes not from circumstances, but through the Savior’s presence in our lives.  The Holy Family’s circumstances were not the best.  A pregnant mother in painful labor. 

A worried husband unable to provide for his wife and newborn child. 
A stable filled with sounds and smells farm animals. 
And only a manger full of straw for the baby’s bed.
These are not peaceful circumstances.
Yet the angels sang:  “Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”

Jesus is the Prince of Peace and peace comes when we walk with Him through the storms of life. 

Joining the Angelic Song
Just as the angels worshipped, we are invited to lift our voices in praise.  Our choir’s cantata is a way to echo this angelic celebration, glorifying God together.  You may notice, all the songs today focus on the baby.  May our music help you focus on this miraculous child who was conceived by the Holy, born of a virgin, suffered under Pontious Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried and who rose again on the third day, who will come again one day to judge the living and the dead.  Let the message of Christ’s birth inspire joy and peace in your heart beyond today.  How can we bring the song of hope and peace to others this Christmas season and all year long?

The Gifts We Bring | A Sermon from Matthew 2:7-11

Introduction
During Advent this year, we’re focusing on the story of the Wisemen who visited baby Jesus.  The Wisemen traveled a long way to worship Jesus, and when they found Him, they didn’t come empty-handed. They brought gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh—to honor Him as their King. Today, we’ll look at their example and think about the gifts we can bring to Jesus. How can we give Him the best of our time, talents, and treasures? And how can we make our lives a gift of worship to Him?

Matthew 2:7-11
⁷ Then Herod called for a private meeting with the Wisemen, and he learned from them the time when the star first appeared. ⁸ Then he told them, “Go to Bethlehem and search carefully for the child. And when you find him, come back and tell me so that I can go and worship him, too!”

⁹ After this interview the Wisemen went their way. And the star they had seen in the east guided them to Bethlehem. It went ahead of them and stopped over the place where the child was. ¹⁰ When they saw the star, they were filled with joy! ¹¹ They entered the house and saw the child with his mother, Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasure chests and gave him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

True vs. False Worship
Last week, we learned that King Herod was a paranoid and ruthless tyrant, willing to kill anyone to keep his power. When the Wisemen arrived in Jerusalem asking, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews?” it sent shockwaves through the city. A new king? That was a dangerous and risky question. Herod had already killed his wife, his own son, and dozens of other people to protect his throne. What terrible actions might this news from strangers in the East bring to Jerusalem?

But Herod, always the cunning and deceitful schemer, hid his true intentions behind a fake smile. He lied to the Wisemen, saying, “I want to go worship him too!” In reality, Herod’s plan was to find Jesus and kill Him, eliminating any threat to his throne.

Herod pretended to want to worship Jesus, but his true motive was to eliminate a threat to his power. Sadly, some people today also fake their worship of Jesus. They may say they worship Him, and they might even think they do, but their actions reveal a different motive. Instead of surrendering to Jesus, they try to use Him—to control, manipulate, or get something they want. That’s not true worship.

False worship is self-centered. It focuses on what we can gain, how we can benefit, or how Jesus fits into our plans. It seeks to control rather than submit.

True worship is God-centered. It’s about honoring Jesus for who He is—our Savior, our King, and our Lord. True worship surrenders everything to Him with humility, love, and devotion.  I often see people treating Jesus as little more than a good luck charm…

So, what about you? Is your worship real? Are you approaching Jesus with a heart that seeks to honor Him, or are you trying to fit Him into your own plans?  What is your true attitude in worship?

The Wisemen’s Gifts
The Wisemen followed the star to Bethlehem, where they found Mary and the baby, Jesus. The Bible says they bowed down, worshipped Him, and opened their treasure chests to present Him with gifts.

The New Living Translation (NLT) uses the phrase “treasure chest,” which is an interesting way to describe it. My mom recently told me that one of her most cherished possessions is a wooden chest her dad built. Inside, she keeps precious keepsakes like photos, newspaper clippings, baby shoes, and other mementos. These items aren’t worth much money, but they are treasures to her. In that sense, her chest really is a treasure chest.

The Wisemen also brought treasure chests, but theirs held the most valuable things they had—gifts they wanted to give to the newborn King.  They brought gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

When we worship, we’re called to give Christ our very best. So, what’s in your treasure chest that you want to offer to Jesus? Is it your time, your talents, or your resources? What will you give to honor the King?

Gold
The Wisemen brought gold as a gift for Jesus because it symbolized royalty and honor. Gold was and is a precious and rare metal, often associated with kings and their wealth. By offering gold, the Wisemen were declaring that Jesus was no ordinary child—He was the King of the Jews, the long-awaited Messiah.  Indeed, He was Lord of all.  Remember, the Wisemen were not from Israel.  They had no obligation to give tribute to a king of Israel.  Their visit and gifts signified they recognized Jesus as Lord of all the earth.  He was the King of kings!

But gold wasn’t just a symbol of Jesus’ kingship; it was also a practical gift. It could have provided Mary and Joseph with the resources they needed to flee to Egypt when Herod sought to kill Jesus. This shows us that God’s provision is not only symbolic but also practical, meeting needs in real and tangible ways.

The gift of gold reminds us to honor Jesus as our King. Just as the Wisemen gave their best to Jesus, we are called to offer Him our very best—our time, talents, and treasures—as an act of worship and recognition of His rule in our lives.

Frankincense
The Wisemen brought frankincense as a gift for Jesus, a choice rich with spiritual meaning. Frankincense was a valuable resin often used in temple worship as part of the incense burned before God. It symbolized prayer, worship, and the divine presence of God.

By offering frankincense, the Wisemen were acknowledging Jesus not just as a King, but as divine. This gift pointed to His role as the Great High Priest, the one who would bridge the gap between God and humanity. It reminds us that Jesus is worthy of our worship, for He is God in the flesh, come to dwell among us.

The gift of frankincense challenges us to reflect on our worship. Are we offering our lives as a fragrant offering to Him? Just as the Wisemen bowed before Jesus with their gifts, we are invited to bow before Him in awe and worship, honoring Him as our Savior and Lord.

Myrrh
The Wisemen brought myrrh as a gift for Jesus, and it carried deep symbolism. Myrrh was a valuable resin used in perfumes, anointing oils, and burial preparations. By offering myrrh, the Wisemen pointed to Jesus’ future mission as the Savior who would suffer and die for the sins of the world.

Myrrh’s connection to burial foreshadowed the sacrifice Jesus would make on the cross. Even as a child, this gift recognized His ultimate purpose: to save humanity through His death and resurrection. It reminds us that Jesus was born not just to live among us but to give His life for us.

The gift of myrrh challenges us to consider how we honor Jesus’ sacrifice. Are we willing to give Him our whole lives in response to the love and grace He has shown us? Just as the Wisemen offered myrrh, we are called to offer ourselves completely to the One who gave everything for us.

What Can You Bring the King?
The Wisemen brought their best gifts to Jesus—gold for a King, frankincense for the Divine, and myrrh for the Savior who would sacrifice Himself for the world. Their offerings weren’t just valuable treasures; they were acts of worship, symbols of their devotion and recognition of who Jesus is.

So, what about us? What gifts are we bringing to Jesus? True worship isn’t about fancy presents or extravagant gestures. It’s about offering Jesus the best of who we are—our time, our talents, our resources, and most importantly, our hearts. Every day, in the way we live, speak, and serve, we have the chance to offer gifts to Jesus that honor Him as our King, Savior, and Lord.

As we prepare for Christmas, I challenge you to reflect on what you are giving to Jesus. Are you holding back, or are you giving Him your best? Think about how you can offer your time in prayer and worship, your talents to serve others, and your resources to build His Kingdom.

The Wisemen traveled far and gave generously to worship Jesus.  What will you bring to Him today?

Song - “The Little Drummer Boy”
Come they told me, parrrumpapumpum, 
a new born King to see, parrrumpapumpum.
Our finest gifts we bring, parrrumpapumpum,
to lay before the King, parrrumpapumpum, rumpapumpum, rumpapumpum.
So to honor Him, parrrumpapumpum, when we come.
Little Baby, parrrumpapumpum,
I am a poor boy too, parrrumpapumpum,
I have no gift to bring, parrrumpapumpum,
that’s fit to give a King, parrrumpapumpum, rumpapumpum, rumpapumpum.
Shall I play for you, parrrumpapumpum, on my drum.
Mary nodded yes, parrrumpapumpum. 

The ox and lamb kept time, parrrumpapumpum.
I played my drum for him, parrrumpapumpum.
I played my best for him, parrrumpapumpum, rumpapumpum, rumpapumpum.
Then he smiled at me, parrrumpapum pum—me and my drum.