Main Idea: Persons who are shipwrecked at the stable expectantly hold on to something no one else can really imagine.

In Tom Hanks’ movie "Castaway" Hanks plays a Federal Express manager who is busy, overworked, obsessed with his job and missing the real meaning of a relationship with his girlfriend Helen Hunt. One Christmas Eve Hanks is called to fly out at night to the Pacific to resolve a problem. The huge Fed Ex plane is caught in a storm, crashes into the ocean and Hanks is the only survivor. The scene where Hanks is struggling to get into an inflated life raft is terrifying. He clings desperately to the raft as his only hope for survival. He finally is able to fling himself into the raft where he passes out from shock and exhaustion.

When daylight comes, Hanks has drifted to an uninhabited island where he will be forced to seek ways to survive for over four years. There will be three things that Hanks clings to for survival and hope: a pocket watch given to him by Helen Hunt that holds her picture, a Fed Ex package that has distinctive feathered wings painted on the outside and a Wilson Volley Ball that washed ashore that he named "Wilson." Those three things would be the "planks" of hope that he clings and holds to when everything else was stripped away.

Spanish writer Jose Ortega says that those who are the shipwrecked, the castaways, are those who "instinctively…look around for something to which to cling…" And it is in that clinging to what can offer hope that a person finds truth. He says, "He who does not find himself really lost…never finds himself, never comes up against his own reality." (Watch for the Light, p. 190). Brennan Manning says we find that reality most clearly defined when we discover ourselves shipwrecked at the stable at the birth of Jesus Christ. He writes, "The shipwrecked at the stable are the poor in spirit who feel lost in the cosmos, adrift on an open sea, clinging with a life-and-death desperation to the one solitary plank. Finally they are washed ashore and make their way to the stable, stripped of the old spirit of possessiveness in regard to anything…They have been saved, rescued, delivered from the waters of death, set free for a new shot at life. At the stable in a blinding moment of truth, they make the stunning discovery that Jesus is the plank of salvation they have been clinging to without knowing it!"

That was the message the angel gave to the shepherds: "This will be a sign to you; you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger" (Luke 2:12). That statement proclaimed to the shepherds is still for us the one plank of survival for all of us. We have, tragically, so numbed our souls to the desperation of this message that we foolishly cling to all that isn’t necessary for our survival, imagining all the while that we are celebrating "the true meaning of Christmas". Yet those who are the shipwrecked at the stable see it differently. Manning says, "The shipwrecked have stood at the still point of a turning world and discovered that the human heart is made for Jesus Christ and cannot really be content with less." (Watch for the Light, p. 190-191, 193)

That’s what we want to talk about this Advent season—being "Shipwrecked at the Stable." We’ll look at the qualities that those who are shipwrecked possess and contrast those to a world that doesn’t realize how lost and adrift they truly are. What are the marks or qualities of those who are shipwrecked at the stable? One quality is that they expect the unexpected. That’s what Jesus said to those who followed him only days before his death. He told them, "However, no one knows the day or the hour when these things will happen, not even the angels in heaven or the Son himself. Only the Father knows. When the Son of Man returns, it will be like it was in Noah's day. In those days before the Flood, the people were enjoying banquets and parties and weddings right up to the time Noah entered his boat. People didn't realize what was going to happen until the Flood came and swept them all away. That is the way it will be when the Son of Man comes. Two men will be working together in the field; one will be taken, the other left. Two women will be grinding flour at the mill; one will be taken, the other left. So be prepared, because you don't know what day your Lord is coming. Know this: A homeowner who knew exactly when a burglar was coming would stay alert and not permit the house to be broken into. You also must be ready all the time. For the Son of Man will come when least expected." (Matt. 24:36-44) What I want us to see today is that believers who are shipwrecked at the stable expectantly hold on to something that no one else can really imagine.

The verses I read to you come in the middle of a two-chapter speech of Jesus where he talks about how the world will end. The disciples are filled with questions after Jesus has predicted that the magnificent Temple that Herod had built would be destroyed. They ask Jesus, "When will these things be?" "What will be the evidence of your coming again?" and, "When will it all end?" Jesus gives his response in such a way that believers have struggled for 2000 years to understand. Yet in all of the mystery that is seen, the consistent warning and message is that believers are to be prepared for the coming of Jesus.

While we make all of our preparations for Christmas, have we forgotten about the essential preparation of our lives? There is so much about our Christmases that are predictable—the same menu, same ornaments, same songs, same traditions. Yet Advent is about expecting the unexpected, the unpredictable. Those who are shipwrecked at the stable are those who cling with absolute expectation to what the rest of the world doesn’t really expect—that the baby in the manger will return as the Lord and Master of the entire universe! We who find ourselves desperate at the stable hold passionately to a promise that transforms our lives continually.

How does that happen? Those who are shipwrecked at the stable expect something that no one else really knows. (v. 36). Jesus told those disciples that no one truly knows when he would return signaling the end of all time. The only one who knows the when of this is the Father and he isn’t telling. It really doesn’t matter how many Left Behind books there are, how many TV shows there are on VTN or TBN that are focused solely on this one piece of information, no one knows but God the Father.

Admittedly, it is hard for us to imagine that there would be something that Jesus didn’t know. We struggle with how this is possible. So, instead of accepting this simple statement, Christians scrutinize every syllable of prophetic information in both the Old and New Testament trying to find something—anything—that will give us just one clue as to when Jesus is going to return to the world in which we exist. For 2000 years God has chosen to confound all the efforts of people to try to define or know what only he knows. The reason that we don’t know the date is because if we know the date then we would be tempted to stop what we need to be doing and just wait. Because we don’t know the date, we can’t put off doing daily what we need to be doing!

We who are shipwrecked at the stable live in the unknown. We don’t know what will happen in the next moment, the next month or the next year. Yet we expect something that no one else really knows and that expectation of the unknown pushes us to do today what is expected of us today. This past week one of our college students, Chad Beckwith, a 21 year old from Sheridan, received news that no 21-year old student ever expects to hear: "You have cancer." Chad was diagnosed Monday with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a very treatable cancer; but the treatment is going to change his life. Chad is one of our Adventure Club employees. When I spoke with Chad after the diagnosis, I told him I wanted to see him when he got back from the Thanksgiving holiday and then I remembered he worked at Adventure Club. I asked him, "Will you be at Adventure Club tomorrow?" "Yeah!" "OK," I said, "I’ll see you then." I saw Chad Wednesday and I asked his permission to tell this story. What Chad doesn’t know out in the future isn’t stopping him from doing today what he needs to do. We don’t know when Jesus will return but we expect it. It seems to others not to matter but those who are shipwrecked at the stable expect something that no one else really knows.

There’s another thing those who are shipwrecked at the stable expect and that is they expect something that no one else really believes. (v. 37-39) Jesus said that his return will come at a time that was similar to the days of Noah described in the book of Genesis. He describes them going about the normalcy of their daily lives "enjoying banquets and parties and weddings right up to the time Noah entered the boat" (v. 38). The problem was not that the people were doing these things; the problem was that they became so preoccupied with the normal routines they ignored the obvious fact that Noah was building a huge boat in the middle of dry land.

Think about it—it wasn’t that they didn’t have enough warning. It had to have taken Noah a long time to build and provision the Ark. They could see daily all of his activity and maybe even stopped to ask him about it. I doubt if Noah was silent but told them exactly what God said was going to happen. Yet they were so entrenched in the world that they knew they couldn’t imagine an event so cataclysmic as Noah predicted. They continued to ignore Noah’s activities and continued their fascination with their normal lives until it started raining and it never stopped! By the time the waters rose to threaten them it was too late to do anything. The time of preparation had long since passed. And Jesus said his return will be like that.

The May 1984 National Geographic showed through color photos and drawings the swift and terrible destruction that wiped out the Roman city of Pompeii in A.D.79. The explosion of Mount Vesuvius was so sudden, the residents were killed while in their routine: men and women were at the market, the rich in their luxurious baths, slaves at toil. They died amid volcanic ash and superheated gasses. Even family pets suffered the same quick and final fate. It takes little imagination to picture the panic of that terrible day.

The saddest part is that these people did not have to die. Scientists confirm what ancient Roman writers record—weeks of rumblings and shakings preceded the actual explosion. Even an ominous plume of smoke was clearly visible from the mountain days before the eruption. If only they had been able to read and respond to Vesuvius’s warning! Our nation’s security system was too entranced by the normal to believe the unbelievable was about to occur.

Yet we who are the shipwrecked at the stable are to be different. We are to be those who have refused to be placed under the spell of the routine, the ordinary and the normal because we believe something that no one else really believes. We believe that there is One who will arrive and when he does all of our routines will become meaningless. So the question is: Just how much of the normal has become normal for you? Has the normal so captured your heart and mind that you are numb to the unbelievable? Those who are shipwrecked at the stable expect something no one else really believes.

Those who are shipwrecked at the stable expect something no one else really knows and no one else really believes but they also expect something for which no one else is really ready. (v. 40-44) Jesus again stresses just how normal life is—people working in the field and at the mill. Life is going on just as normal as it ever has but then something changes all of that—the Lord arrives! When he arrives there is a separation between persons—one is taken and another is left. Both were living life but only one was ready. So he warns them to be ready because just like a thief comes in the night, so will be his return to this world. His warning is so clear: "You must also be ready all the time. For the Son of Man will come when least expected" (v. 44). Disciples are those who expect something for which no one else is really ready and they live prepared.

This past year the 9/11 Commission presented its report on the events, problems and failures that led up to the attack by al Qaeda on U.S. soil on September 11, 2001. The Executive Summary provides a long list of reasons we were not prepared for the attack. Yet of all the bureaucratic failures they list one that was the most critical reason for the lack of preparation--imagination. "The most important failure was one of imagination. We do not believe leaders understood the gravity of the threat. The terrorist danger from Bin Ladin and al Qaeda was not a major topic for policy debate among the public, the media, or in the Congress. Indeed, it barely came up during the 2000 presidential campaign…Though top officials all told us that they understood the danger, we believe there was uncertainty among them as to whether this was just a new and especially venomous version of the ordinary terrorist threat the United States had lived with for decades, or it was indeed radically new, posing a threat beyond any yet experienced. As late as September 4, 2001, Richard Clarke, the White House staffer long responsible for counterterrorism policy coordination, asserted that the government had not yet made up its mind how to answer the question: ‘Is al Qida a big deal?’ A week later came the answer." We were numbed into denial that left us unprepared. Are we once again being numbed into denial because the threats haven’t materialized?

I suppose what creeps up in my own soul as I reflect on these words is the numbing power of the normal. It’s like the proverbial story of how to boil a frog. You don’t put him in a pot of boiling water. You drop him in the boiling water and he’ll jump out before he’s injured. So you put him in a pot of cold water, and he’s perfectly comfortable. Then you put him on the stove, and little by little the water gets warm. It’s very pleasant at first. Then it gets to Jacuzzi level, and he begins to be a little alarmed. Finally, when it’s boiling, it’s too late. Christians are like that, aren’t we? We get into our routines and it’s oh so pleasant at first. And then it gets a little warmer and more pleasant. And one day we realize the danger: "This is going to kill me, and I haven’t the strength to get out!" (Donald Hoke, "The Stockholm Syndrome," Preaching Today, Tape 30)

Yet those who are shipwrecked at the stable are different. They are those who have refused the numbing normalcy of this world and see beyond it to an expectation that will never allow normal to be normal again. They are those for whom Advent signals an expectation not of the unexpected but of the expected—the arrival of the Lord Jesus Christ. They expect something no one else really knows, no one else really believes and something for which no one else is really ready. They live daily expecting something that no one else can really imagine! This is what I want you to do.

That night over two thousand years ago shepherds were doing what they had normally done for generations. Suddenly angels’ voices broke into their normal life and nothing was normal again. One statement would change their routine forever. "You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." They forever would be shipwrecked at the stable and live the rest of their days expecting the unexpected. The real question is not, "What are you expecting for Christmas?" but, "Whom are you really expecting?" May you be one of the shipwrecked at the stable this Christmas.

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Dr. Bruce Tippit, Pastor

First Baptist Church

Jonesboro, Arkansas

btippit@fbcjonesboro.org