Three Unexpected Sermons

In the season that preaches the gospel

I visited a non-denominational church on Sunday morning and heard a very innocuous, TEDTalk-length sermon about contentment in the holiday season. While I was mildly annoyed that it hit one of my sermon pet peeves (misusing the story of Martha and Mary in Luke 10; I have an entire chapter on this passage in my dissertation) it was a good reminder that enough is enough when it comes to gifts as well as schedules.

But in spite of the helpful nudge that genuinely encouraged me to be done with Christmas shopping, it left me feeling flat.

Because I had heard a much more powerful sermon on contentment a couple weeks before, and it was just one sentence: “Would you include in your prayers that Christ would strengthen my pursuit of genuine, grateful, realistic contentment?”

Dr. Dan Treier, one of the six PhD advisors in my doctoral program at Wheaton, shared the shocking news of his unexpected cancer diagnosis at the end of November. He was getting checked for a stubborn case of pneumonia and found out he had lung cancer.

The PhD students have been gathering daily after lunch in the library to pray for him and his wife and daughter, and I have not stopped thinking about one of his prayer requests since I first heard it: pray that I would be content.

Dr. Dan Treier (center) with Dr. Amy Peeler and Dr. Danny Carroll at the fall colloqium in 2023, discussing Treier’s book Lord Jesus Christ

His faithfulness in the midst of this life-altering diagnosis has preached to me more loudly than any sermon I’ve ever heard on contentment. You can read his own words here: Dr. Treier’s CaringBridge site

I’ve felt real fellowship and faith as we have gathered quietly and consistently to pray, students from many denominations and perspectives, sharing a request for healing for a beloved professor and mentor with a God who listens.

As I have meditated on this unexpected sermon, I’ve noticed two others this season.

I have no beef with secular Christmas traditions. I enjoy them all. I’m not worried about a war on Christmas, happy holidays is fine with me. I’ve just been attending, with a quiet delight, to the fact that so many Christmas songs and stories do tell the gospel—the story of Jesus. And he is proclaimed by those who don’t even believe in him.

My son Joshua played Fred in A Christmas Carol at his high school. It’s one of my favorite Christmas stories. My husband and I used to go every year with friends in Rhode Island to the always-fresh production of A Christmas Carol at Trinity Rep in Providence.

And my favorite line gets me choked up every time, this year no exception.

“And how did little Tim behave?” asked Mrs Cratchit, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity and Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart’s content.

“As good as gold,” said Bob, “and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see.”

I’m a Gospels girlie, writing a dissertation on Luke, marveling, when I remember to in the midst of research-overwhelm, that I get to pursue a doctorate in Jesus.

And this really is the Jesus I know and write about and preach about, the one who came to liberate us from Sin and Death as well as heal our bodies, the one who brings holistic salvation.

I love that a high school play tells us about that healing work, about that healing person.

Especially as we are praying for the healing of Dr. Treier.

I don’t go to chapel at Wheaton College (doctoral students are not required to and I got my fill of required chapel attendance as an undergrad at a different Christian university) except for once a year: when my high school kids perform with the band and choir at the music department holiday concert. My middle child had her first participation this year as a freshman, and my oldest came back as an alum to sing in the concluding Hallelujah Chorus.

I admittedly worked on taking dissertation notes from a monograph when my kids weren’t singing last night. But when I rose for the Hallelujah Chorus, my heart celebrated and my eyes misted when they declared:

The kingdom of this world
Is become the kingdom of our Lord,
And of His Christ, and of His Christ;
And He shall reign for ever and ever

This is what I’m working on writing. Luke’s Gospel shows how Jesus socializes (disciples) his followers into the culture of the Kingdom of God, including their emotions. I believe this, that all will become the kingdom of our Lord when the heavens and earth are re-made.

While it overwhelms and frustrates me every year that “Christmas” becomes my part-time job in November and December—it always hits as I’m trying to write end-of-semester term papers—I still love the season.

I enjoy making holiday magic for my family and friends, I like upholding traditions, and I love the soft white glow of Christmas lights. Creative gift-giving is fun for me, especially when I do it early so it doesn’t become a last-minute slog of consumerism and misery. We have secret locations in our house for hiding presents all throughout the year (not going to reveal the location here in case any of you would snitch to my kids), and some of this year’s Christmas gifts have been stashed away since spring.

I like the secular traditions of Christmas as well as the practice of Advent and the Christian meaning of the holiday. (Side note that I really like the Dutch practice of gift giving for Sinterklaas on Dec 5 so that Dec 25 is more of a religious and family holiday. We still celebrate Sinterklaas with special imported treats from the Netherlands.)

In the midst of the trappings of Christmas, commercial and familial, it stands out to me this year in particular what a delight it is that this ubiquitous holiday itself tells the gospel.

And the gospel is the good story of a good God who came to heal us all, and to be with us in our suffering, and to make all things right and good in the end.