I got to tell you all something. I heard something
on the news, and by the news I mean social media,
that says that apparently, according to Macaulay
Culkin, Macaulay Culkin has declared that Die
Hard is not a Christmas movie. Mr. Home Alone
1 and 2 has declared that Die Hard is not a Christmas
movie. And frankly, I used to like Macaulay Culkin.
I'm sorry, clearly Die Hard is a Christmas movie.
I don't care what Macaulay Culkin or even Bruce
Willis himself says, okay? It takes place at
a Christmas party, there is reconciliation with
an estranged spouse, and there is even a man
crawling through the air conditioning ductwork,
which is kind of like going down a chimney if
you squint your eyes just well enough. You could
also make a case for gremlins being a Christmas
movie it starts with a Christmas gift that goes
terribly wrong kind of like jingle all the way
there's a bunch of tiny little creatures running
around and Everyone seems to care a whole lot
about midnight and eating But you know there
is one movie that almost everyone agrees does
belong to Christmas Even if they don't like it
love actually Don't forget the comma in between.
It shows up every year like a relative who lets
themselves in without knocking. Some people adore
it. Some people tolerate it. Some people suddenly
remember they need to cover their kid's eyes
when certain scenes come up. And I don't mean
when Mr. Bean appears. And yet it sticks with
us every year now. Not because it gives a perfect
definition of love, but because it gives us a
collage. Love as grand gestures with music and
learning languages. Love as romantic longing
between new acquaintances. Love as heartbreak
in and out of relationships. Love as awkward
friendship between teammates. Love as cardboard
signs and background music. That, actually, is
the point of the movie. The movie insists that
love is everywhere. in all kinds of forms, sometimes
noble, sometimes messy, and sometimes deeply
confusing, even wondering if anyone notices them
at all. But that is exactly where the problem
begins. Because if love can mean anything, it
eventually means nothing other than the momentary
feelings we may experience. If love is only intensity,
chemistry, or how strongly we feel in the moment,
then love becomes fragile, temporary, disposable,
easy to abandon when it starts costing more than
we expected. So Advent presses the question back
on us, not how do we feel about love, but how
does God define love? And God doesn't answer
though with the definition. He answers with a
story. Actually, He answers with multiple stories.
Sit here for a moment and let the tension build
when we hear about Joseph and Mary. Joseph is
engaged to Mary, you may have heard, which in
his culture already carries legal and social
weight. It's not a casual arrangement. They are
legally... on the inside of marriage. This is
a future that has begun. It's just waiting for
consummation and then everything collapses. Because
Mary is pregnant and Joseph knows one thing for
sure, the child is not his. But let's just sit
with this for a moment. This is not some sitcom
mistake that can be cleared up with a quick conversation
and a commercial break. This is not even Alan
Rickman giving Emma Thompson a Joni Mitchell
CD and revealing a cheating heart. This is life
altering, reputation ending, community shattering.
Matthew tells us Joseph is righteous though,
which we often hear as following the rules. being
morally precise, doing everything correctly.
But look at what righteousness looks like here.
Joseph plans to divorce Mary quietly. Instead
of making a spectacle of her in order to exonerate
himself, he wants to be merciful. That means
he absorbs some of the shame instead of spreading
it. He chooses mercy rather than public scrutiny
that could bring about her death. He loves Mary
enough not to ruin her even while his own heart
must be breaking. The Christmas story almost
could have ended before it even began. And then
God complicates things further. He has a habit
of doing that, doesn't he? The angel appears
and Joseph is asked to do something even harder.
Not just to spare Mary, but to stay. To take
her as his wife. To claim her publicly. To raise
a child that will never biologically be his.
To accept a story that sounds unbelievable to
everyone else. Joseph's love becomes obedience
that costs him the story he had always wanted.
Hope for Joseph is now in a future he cannot
understand. Peace here is not the absence of
chaos, but the decision to trust God inside it.
Joy for Mary is by not being abandoned in her
most vulnerable moment. Joseph at this moment
does not get a glowing halo to show that he made
the right choice. He gets a dream, a command,
and a lifetime of awkward conversations. Love
according to God. actually looks quieter than
we expect. This is love that carries hope because
Joseph believes God is at work beyond what he
can see. It carries peace, not because things
are calm, but because he entrusts himself to
God's promise. It carries joy, quiet and stubborn,
rooted in faithfulness rather than circumstance,
and it teaches us that love sometimes looks like
staying put when the world says, exit while you
can. But then we turn from the living room of
Nazareth to the throne room of Judah. The tone
shifts, the love is the same, but the posture
is a bit different. You know those moments when
someone has made it clear that they are going
to do exactly what they want. and no one can
change their mind. It doesn't matter what they
learn, it doesn't matter what they see. When
they walk away from the people and the places
that are loving and safe, while then pursuing
those who would make life worse, and they refuse
to do anything differently. Isaiah stands before
King Ahaz, who refuses to change his mind. Because
Ahaz is afraid. The kingdom is under threat.
Enemies are gathering all around. The alliances,
they're being negotiated. The plans are being
made. Ahaz wants control rather than trusting
in God. You see, at this point the king of Judah,
Ahaz, he's considering getting into an alliance
with Assyria, the bad guys. to protect against
the northern Israel and Syria, the two kings
you dread, forcing him to go with them into battle
against Assyria. See, Isaiah though, he's urging
Ahaz not to get into that alliance with Assyria.
To strengthen the force of his advice, Yahweh,
God Himself, through Isaiah, has offered Ahaz
a sign. that Isaiah's advice was sound. Something
to prove. You can trust him. You can listen.
But Ahaz refused. I will not put the Lord to
the test. But Isaiah persists in giving a sign.
You see, God tells Ahaz just to ask for a sign.
Just ask for it. Ask for anything. Depth, height.
God is willing to meet him there, and Ahaz refuses,
and he says, I will not put the Lord to the test.
Isn't it amazing that someone can take something
that sounds so spiritual, so mature, so humble,
but they're actually using it as an excuse to
do the wrong thing? But Isaiah hears it for what
it is. It's not humility. Ahaz is avoiding God.
but dressing it up as piety. This is not Liam
Neeson convincing his son to play the best drum
solo ever to win the girl of his dreams, even
while his own heart is still aching. This is
Isaiah, with his heart in pain for his people,
wishing the king would listen for his own sake
and for the sake of the kingdom. King Ahaz wants
to make his own choices, though, without trusting
in God or anyone besides himself. Ignoring Isaiah's
advice, Ahaz would become a slave to Assyria
and almost lose the kingdom. But here is where
love surprises us again. Isaiah does not back
off. He does not say, well, suit yourself. He
presses in. He speaks anyway. He announces the
sign, whether Ahaz wants it or not, the virgin
shall conceive and bear a son and shall call
his name Immanuel. All that King Ahaz would need
to do is just wait a little longer and Israel
and Syria would no longer be a threat. If he
would sing that the young woman will conceive
and bear a son, Hezekiah, and wait until he was
just three years old, finished with weaning,
he would see that his land was now a place of
peace again, where people were eating curds and
honey. But instead of waiting just a little longer,
Ahaz would choose to offer his loyalty to Assyria
instead of God. And in so doing, Assyria would
take a toll on Judah. Though it would be Hezekiah,
his son, who would keep Assyria from exiling
the nation. You see, this is love that risks
being unwanted. Isaiah loves Judah enough to
tell the truth that they do not want to hear.
He loves the future enough to confront the present.
He loves God enough to say what God has actually
said and not what the king would prefer to hear.
Hope is offered even if it's not received. Peace
here is not reassurance of your choices, but
alignment with God. Joy is delayed because it
will come with the next king, Hezekiah, not immediately.
Sometimes love looks like refusing to pretend
that everything is okay. Sometimes love says
this path that you're going down is dangerous.
That kind of love does not trend well on Insta
where everyone is always perfect. It does not
photograph nicely or make a great AI generated
image of yourself as the Green Ranger fighting
Godzilla. I have no idea who would do that. But
it is still love. Isaiah's love carries hope
because it refuses to believe that fear has the
final word. It carries peace. not by avoiding
conflict, but by anchoring Judah in God's presence.
It carries joy because God is still present and
active even when kings are faithless. And it
shows us that love does not always feel kind
or popular in the moment, but it is faithful
to what leads to life. But Isaiah's sign does
not end with Ahaz though. It stretches forward
across the centuries. The virgin shall conceive
and bear a son and shall call his name, Emmanuel.
Emmanuel. The word could be translated either
the young woman or the virgin. But you see in
Matthew, that ancient promise takes on flesh
and breath in the most impossible way. Love does
not remain there, an idea that we think about
for a few minutes during Charlie Brown. Love
does not stay at a safe distance to keep from
offending or causing discomfort. Love enters
into the world and makes itself felt and known.
Scripture says something bolder than love actually
ever could. Not just that love shows up in unexpected
places, but that God shows up. in the middle
of ordinary, complicated lives, not polished
ones. A carpenter with a reputation to protect,
a young woman with a dangerous secret, a child
born into political tension and family vulnerability.
But God does not fix the world from afar. He
moves into it. And once you see that, You start
seeing echoes of it in the lives of his people.
Love that keeps showing up to care for a parent
whose memory is fading. Love that forgives when
the ball is dropped or the apology is not really
there. Love that stays in a calling after losing
close friends and safe spaces. Love that speaks
truth and still stays at the table to pick up
the pieces. Love that tells you that the job
you thought you would get is not only not yours,
but also that you're not sure where you will
be in the next few months. God's love does not
echo with Hollywood sentimentality. These are
not dramatic movie moments. They do not come
with soundtracks. They do not get cardboard signs.
But they are holy. Hope that God has not abandoned
us, peace that God is present not absent, joy
that God delights in dwelling with his people,
love that does not wait for perfection before
arriving, continuing to bless and love others
even when you feel like you have nothing. God's
love is not cinematic, but it is real. As real
as stopping your disciples from defending you,
knowing how many would end up dying for you if
you let them do so. Knowing the accusations against
you are only half truths that miss out on showing
who you really are and what you're really doing.
Letting the punishment take you not just to the
brink, but to the end. And while you know resurrection
is coming, it does not stop the pain, and the
nothingness of death beforehand. Love does not
fix everything immediately. It enters everything
faithfully. This kind of love, it carries hope
because God refuses to abandon a broken world.
It carries peace because God is present even
when outcomes are uncertain. It carries joy because
salvation begins quietly, not with spectacle.
and that defines love as presence, faithfulness,
self -giving. Even when everything is taken away
and still being willing to bless and love our
neighbor. Advent is almost over. Christmas Eve
is close enough to see it on the calendar for
the week. Soon we will gather again, hear familiar
words and sing songs that we know by heart. or
at least thought we did before we started hearing
our neighbors sing the actual lyrics. But before
we do, Advent asks us to notice something. Love
does not always look the way we expect. It stays
when leaving is easy or even logical. It speaks
when silence feels safer or kinder. It shows
up in ordinary places with extraordinary faithfulness.
Soon we will hear again that the light shines
in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome
it. That's not just poetry. It's a description
of love. Not love as the world markets it, not
love as a feeling that fades, not love in all
those ways, but love actually as God gives it.
And that's the love that comes to us, that stays
with us, and that calls us to live by the faith.
that we have received. Amen. Thanks be to God.