Sermon Tone Analysis

Any Christmas fans in here?

Anyone in here like opening presents?

Do you like gifts?

Does anyone in here not like opening presents and being surprised by receiving nice things?

Growing up in the Reed home, my mom always gave great gifts.

Her love language is gift giving, which always made Christmas so much fun in my home.

I grew up in a single family home.

We didn’t have much, but my mom saved throughout the year in order to give my brother and me a great Christmas every year.

My mom made Christmas magical for us.

Over the years, she made a tradition of giving my brother and me one big gift, and we had to save it for last, like the grand finale of the fireworks.

Of course, as she passed out presents to us, she always started us off small with socks and underwear, and then she worked her way up into shirts, pants, and then perhaps a cologne or a watch.

Until finally, two presents remained underneath the tree: the grand finale gifts!

Does this sound familiar with anyone?

Did anyone do this in your family?

On my 14th Christmas, I distinctly remember my grand finale gift that year, because it moved me more than any other gift that I had ever received.

As I mentioned, my brother and I grew up in single parent family.

At 5 years old, my father made a fateful decision to divorce not just my mom, but our entire family.

Since then, I have only seen and spoken with him just a few times.

In his absence, my grandfather and and my great-grandfather stepped into the void my father made and raised my brother and me as our father figures.

For us, these men were like giants.

My great-grandfather loved 4 things in life: Jesus, his family, football, and his garden.

[[[Show pic of great grandfather playing football]]]

My great grandfather played football throughout high school and college and was then recruited to play for the Pittsburgh Steelers, but he declined because he wanted to build a family and his garden.

As a young boy, I visited him weekly at his home in addition to our time together at church on Sundays and Wednesdays.

Often he walked me through his garden, showing me the different vegetables, how they grew, and the importance of composting for the fertility of his soil and the taste of the vegetables.

Likewise, my grandfather also stood as a giant in my eyes.

He made a full time career in the Navy, earning his way to Master Chief on a Destroyer.

In his latter years, he taught German at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, CA.

[[[Show a pic of grandpa and Ryan at Disneyland]]]

HI remember that he spoke with a booming voice and sang baritone.

But what I remember most about him was charismatic energy and his larger than life presence.

When he walked into a room, everyone in there could feel his presence.

He passed away on my first day of 9thgrade.

My 15th Christmas season felt a lot more bitter than sweet.

I even recall sharing with my mom in the days leading up to Christmas about how difficult the season felt without my grandfather with us.

On that Christmas morning, I saw two presents under the tree.

I saw a giant one with my brother’s name on it, and a small one with mine.

As the eldest son, I generally opened my grand finale present first, so my mom handed me the small box and said, “Merry Christmas.”

I unwrapped it, opened the box, and inside of it, I saw this:

[[[Hold the ring]]]

My grandfather’s gold ring.

It didn’t fit me then, and it still doesn’t fit me now.

He left me one of his most prized possessions that he wore everyday, and my mom chose one of our most special moments as a family to give it to me.

I was stunned.

What had felt so bitter all of a sudden began to feel so sweet.

Sometimes the greatest gifts come in the smallest packages.

Quite honestly, when I saw the small package under the tree next to my brother’s bigger one, I felt dismayed.

Admittedly, I even felt a bit jealous for my brother.

Based on the outside appearance alone, I wanted more whatever was inside of his package than whatever my little package contained.

Yet, of all of the gifts that my family has ever given to me, that one still means the most to me.

Sometimes the greatest gifts come in the smallest packages.

Sometimes, even, the greatest gifts come in the most inconspicuous, unassuming, uneventful, and even, the most unexpected way.

A couple of weeks ago here at The5, I spoke to you about how the world around us - both the outside world and our personal lives - feels broken, right?

We observe it, feel it, and experience it.

In our gut, all of us sense that our lives and our world just isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Haven’t all of us experienced moments in our life when we have tangibly witnessed the shadow sides of life break into our day: whether that be the realities of death, repercussions from our own poor decisions, or repercussions from decisions made by others that affected us?

All of it gives us the sense that life just isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.

That’s not to say there isn’t beauty and wonder and love in our life and around the world.

Quite the opposite.

In fact, for any of you who attended Pastor David’s retirement reception last night, you experienced the world more like it should be.

Love, hope, truth, faith all exist in our lives and around the world, but they exist simultaneously in tension with death, brokenness, conflict, abuse, and despair.

In fact, our lives often live right in that liminal tension between beauty and pain - right in the middle of the mess.

In my home, If I see trash… or if I see something that doesn’t belong… of if I see anything that even remotely looks like it could be trash, then without hesitation, I will throw it away.

I hate a mess.

Anyone else hate a mess?

When you see a mess, doesn’t it feel like your soul is eroding?!?

My motto is: if you don’t want it in the trash, then you better find a place for it away from Daddy.

This past Friday morning, after hours of my kids playing in their room, I walked inside to find this:

[[[Show pic of bedroom]]]

I stood there in awe of the sight.

I stood there in awe of how two miniature human beings could cause such devastation.

I didn’t know whether or not to cry or give them some kind of award for doing something that I didn’t think they could do!

You look at this say, “Wow!

What a mess!”

Yet, if we’re honest, then I think many of us would describe certain rooms of our own heart like this.

Life is a mess, isn’t it?

Though my wife and I are learning how to find joy and contentment in our family messes, sometimes, they’re just hard.

Sometimes, life just feels like a wreck, and sometimes our only response to that wreck is to cry out to a God who promises to hear.

One of the many characteristics that I love about our faith is that from beginning to end, the 66 letters contained in the Bible each portray the most honest, messed-up, broken characterization of humanity, and it does not leave a single person out.

All of us are messed up.

Since Genesis chapter 3, when we decided to live as the god or goddess of our our own lives, we have been in living in a mess.

Our world is a mess today, and our world will always be a mess until that glorious day when God restores all back to right.

We’re broken vessels, cracked pots, through and through.

Like I did in the doorway of my kids’ bedroom that day, ever stand back and just ask, “Wow God, what a mess?!”

How could you love me?

Why would you love me?

Is there any hope for restoration?

Is there a way out of this?

In response, every time, God says if your desire to live like the god of your own life has led you into this mess, then I will follow you there, and I will meet you in it.

That’s called grace.

That’s called forgiveness.

That’s called good news.

In the doorway of my kids’ bedroom, my daughter stood behind me and said, “I’m sorry my room is so messy, Daddy.”

And in the doorway, I turned to her, and I said, “Hannah, I love you, let’s clean this up.”

In Isaiah’s letter, he recorded a big, big mess.

In the eighth century, the people of God, the nation of Israel, had made decisions that led them into some really messy consequences.

God’s man, the prophet Isaiah, recorded in his letter that their decisions had resulted in their own demise and destruction.

A warring nation and sworn enemy to Israel lurked just north of their border, waiting for the most opportune time to invade, which they later did in 701 BC.

Assyria laid waste to Israel, capturing all of their riches, and exiling millions of God’s people into slave labor.

Not quite what the people of God had envisioned when they entered into the promised land generations earlier.