Below is a story I wrote and shared at our Christmas Eve service.
Shadowville
Once upon a time there was a town named Shadowville. It was built in the shadow of a tall mountain which blocked the sun from shining for all but a few hours per day. Goblins lived in this mountain and often raided the town at night to steal chickens and sheep and grain.
If this wasn’t ban enough, the soil in Shadowville was poor, making it hard for the people to grow food to eat. The well was contaminated so that people often got sick.
And if all this wasn’t bad enough, Shadowville was ruled by a wicked Mayor named Jasper. He taxed the people heavily. Do you think he used the money for building roads or fertilizing the soil or digging new wells or even hiring sheriffs to keep the people safe from the goblins? No! He spent the money on his own great mansion and many servants. Every day he dined on rich foods and drank fine wines imported from faraway lands.
Photo by Felix Mittermeier: https://www.pexels.com/photo/brown-and-green-trees-2832024/
Mayor Jasper demanded absolute loyalty. His servants prowled the town at open windows and behind corners listening for any complaint or criticism about the mayor, which they promptly reported. When Jasper found out that little Suzie Sanders had said, “When will that stinky old mayor fix our playground?” he made little Suzie shovel out the pig stalls at his mansion every day for three weeks. When it was reported that Baker Brownloaf complained of the grain being stunted because of the poor soil, Jasper made the Baker eat a bowl of dirt for breakfast. If anyone complained twice, they were sent to jail forever.
As you might imagine, the poor people of Shadowville were often grumpy, and so they often fought with each other. The mayor was pleased with this, and in fact even had his servants stir up arguments between neighbors—a nasty rumor started here, a farthing stolen there, a pile of horse manure dumped there—so that they always fought with each other, and never against him.
This was life for the poor, sad people of Shadowville. And they didn’t know any differently.
One day, in the deep gloom of December, a man galloped into the town square. He wore a brilliant white tunic emblazoned with a golden K. He stopped, dismounted and pulled a large scroll out of his saddlebag. The town square was empty, but a few people poked their heads out of their windows and doorways to peek at this strange visitor. With white-gloved hands, he unrolled the scroll and began to read:
“Hear ye, hear ye! I bring glad tidings of great joy. A new king has come to reign in the great city, and you now all live under his dominion.
The king is wise and just, and his government shall bring blessing to all the land.
He shall enrich your soil so that your crops grow bountifully.
He shall purify your water so that sickness is no more.
He shall drive all goblins from the land.
And finally, by his power the dark mountain will be leveled so that the sun shines again in Shadowville.
His majesty shall come soon to begin his work. Listen for the trumpets’ sound. All who wish to swear allegiance to him shall forsake all other lords, make peace with their kin and neighbors, and place a golden K in their windows for all to see. May the King’s blessing be with you all.”
Then the messenger got out a hammer, nailed his decree to the town notice board, and galloped away.
Slowly, the square filled up with curious townspeople. They pressed around the decree, scratching their heads and gaping at the document with its royal seal and ornate calligraphy. Unfortunately, very few people in Shadowville could read, and only a few people had heard the messenger’s words. They murmured and shrugged and stroked their beards.
Finally, Merchant Phineas spoke. “Out of my way” he said, importantly, elbowing his way to the front. “I know how to read. I’ll tell you what this paper says.”
In truth, Merchant Phineas only knew how to read numbers and a few words like “potatoes” and “barrels” and “wool.” He placed one finger on the parchment, squinted, wetted his lips, and cleared his throat. Not wanting to appear foolish, he decided to make something up.
“Aherm. This is a notice…from our Mayor. And it says...”
“No, no, you nitwit,” old Leroy Scruggs cut in. “This ain’t from Jasper. I heard the man speak from my shop doorway, and what he said is that we’re gettin’ a new king.”
Phineas blushed and slipped away to the back of the crowd.
“What’s a king?” A young boy piped up.
“It’s someone who sits in a fancy chair far away and tells people what to do,” a woman sneered.
“But we already have someone like that!” said another. “The mayor! Why would we need another one of them?”
At this, a few people walked away, mumbling about getting back to work.
Then old Mrs. Hemlock, who was quite hard of hearing, spoke up. “I didn’t hear anything about a king. I think he said that we are getting new swings.”
At this, little Suzie Sanders clapped her hands and squealed with delight.
“We don’t need a new playground. What we need is better roads and a clean well.” Said a man holding a shovel.
“Here here!” a few men agreed.
Old Leroy Scruggs spoke again. “It sounded to me like the King is going to fix most everything around here. I believe I even heard him say that this King, is going to level the mountain so that we get some sunlight for once.
“Impossible!” the man with the shovel shouted, to many nods of agreement. “You need to get your ears checked. It sounded to me like, ‘He will level the fountain.’” He pointed his shovel at the stone fountain in the square, which leaned at a steep angle.
“Oh boy!” said the chief of public works, rubbing his hands together. “That would be great. I sure am sick of adding water to that fountain.”
At this, old Doris Clawhammer, who had heard the messenger form her kitchen window, spoke up. “What I want to know is, if we’re getting new swings and a level fountain, why did he say we must make peace with our kin and neighbors place a golden k in our windows?”
“That’s not it at all,” said Mrs. Hemlock. “What I heard him say was, “Make peas for your kin and neighbors and place golden hay where the wind blows.”
“Crazy talk!” muttered Doris, and hobbled away shaking her head. A few others followed.
And so, people became more and more confused about what the announcement said. Gradually, the crowd thinned. People went back to their kitchens and shops and fields, not knowing what to think about this strange announcement.
At last, only half a dozen people were left in the square. But these were the people who did know how to read, and had waited to be able to get close to the royal decree.
When one young woman finished reading, her eyes were as large as fried eggs. “The Mayor isn’t going to like it if we pledge allegiance to this new king!” She whispered. And glancing left and right, she gathered up her skirts, scurried back to her house, slammed the door, and drew the curtains.
At that moment, a man dressed in the black robes of the Mayor’s servants ran into the square, out of breath, ripped the paper off the notice board, and sprinted away up to Jasper’s mansion.
But a few people read the decree in time to read it and believe it. And they ran away to tell their friends and families the good news.
As winter melted into spring and spring bloomed to summer, very unusual things began to happen in Shadowville. A little less arguing was heard. It became harder for Jasper’s servants to provoke arguments. More and more golden Ks began to appear in windows.
A new decree was issued from the Mayor that said, “Do not believe rumors and lies about a new king. Anyone displaying a K in his window shall be guilty of treason and as such shall be imprisoned.” Hearing this, Baker Brownloaf, just to play it safe, scraped off the K from his window sign so that it just said “Ba_er.” Some who believed the King’s message were frightened by Jasper’s threats, but many were not, for they trusted that when the king came he would save them.
Life went on in Shadowville. Crops struggled. People got sick. Goblins raided the town. The jail filled. And yet, something new was happening in town. Hope began to spread through the town like yeast through dough.
One day during the harvest, a bright sound was heard echoing off the mountainside. At first it was faint. As it swelled, people stopped to listen. They set down their rakes and scythes. They halted their wagons. They looked up from their knitting needles and mixing spoons and went to their windows. The sound grew louder and clearer, until it burst over the hilltop and filled the valley like a flood. It was the music of many trumpets. And as if carried on the swell of music, over the hill rode a man in gleaming robes, wearing a crown, followed by a white-clad army. Some in town trembled, but others cheered and danced. Mayor Jasper made a break for it, but soon his wagon hit a large pot hole in one of his roads, the wheel came off and the King’s servants quickly caught him. The King broke the doors off the town jail to free all those who had been imprisoned there.
The tyrant Jasper was sent far away to labor in the King’s iron mines for the rest of his days, along with all the goblins that lived in the mountain. Jasper’s servants fled into caves in the mountain. The worst were captured and sent away forever. But the King was fair, and if anyone showed true humility, he granted them a pardon.
Everything that the King had promised and more was done to transform Shadowville. The soil was fertilized. Pure water flowed from new wells. Roads were fixed. And yes, by the King’s power even the mountain was shortened so that it never blocked the sunlight. There was peace and plenty and joy and light in Shadowville for the first time. In fact, since the town no longer sat under a shadow, the king changed its name to Brightland. And those who lived in Brightland could hardly remember the old, sad days of Shadowville.
Finally, I must note that, much to the delight of the director of public works, the king built a new fountain in the square, one that never leaked, and little Suzie even got her new swing set.
—-
Christmas is about the royal announcement of a new King who has come to reign. His kingdom is one of justice, peace, and blessing. He will dethrone the tyrants of this world. He will bring lasting peace to earth. He will even do the impossible and move the mountain of death that overshadows us all. This is good news.
Unfortunately, sometimes like the people of Shadowville we fail to understand this royal announcement. We may not think of Jesus as a king. We may not understand what it means. We may not believe that he is able to do what he claims.
For a few minutes now, let me tell you more about this king Jesus so that you know who he really is and the loyalty he deserves.
In the readings tonight, we heard the prophets of Israel foretell king Jesus. They made massive promises about who he is and what he will do.
Isaiah wrote,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever (Isa 7:1-2).
The prophet Micah adds, “His greatness will reach to the ends of the earth” (Micah 5:4).
Psalm 72 says things like, “May all kings bow down to him and all nations serve him” (Psalm 72:11).
When we get to the New Testament, we see these prophecies come into focus on the person of Jesus.
If we had read the first chapter of Matthew, we would have seen that Jesus has a royal genealogy. He is the descendant of King David, the rightful heir to the throne.
In the book of Luke, we heard how angels announced the news to shepherds: “I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord” (Luke 2:11).
The name Messiah, and its Greek equivalent Christ, means “anointed one.” It is a royal title like “His Majesty.”
You see, the baby in the manger is not just gentle Jesus, meek and mild. He is the rightful king of the world. He came to start a new government. He came to claim his rightful dominion over all. He came to establish a kingdom that will never end. He came to bring all nations under his lordship.
But here is the most astonishing part of the story. Jesus, for all his power and authority as the rightful monarch of earth, is also the humble king. He came not to lord it over us but to identify with us. He understands exactly what it is like to be in our shoes.
When King Jesus came, his path wasn’t one of privilege, but of poverty. He was born in a manger and died on a cross. He laid down his power even to the point of death, to offer himself as the substitute for sinners like you and me. Jesus is the king of mercy. The king of love. There’s no one else like him.
Though he died poor and rejected he rose from the grave and ascended to his heavenly throne in power. There is a day set when King Jesus will come back to this Shadowville to finish the work he promised to do. And so right now, will you give him your loyalty? He does not demand it, but he does deserve it. That’s what faith is. Allegiance, loyalty, trust. When we do that, we live under his government, the Kingdom of God, here and now.
How is Jesus inviting you to be loyal to him right now?
Is it to believe that he is the King?
Is it to read his word and learn more about him?
Is it to obey his teachings by forgiving someone, or by telling the truth, or making peace with a neighbor?
Is it to be baptized as a public sign of allegiance?
Is it to belong to a community of faith, to worship him and encourage others?
Giving allegiance may put you at odds with the rulers and tyrants of this world. It may even put you at odds with friends and family. But Jesus is worth it!
How sad it would be to misunderstand the announcement of the king and not be ready for his arrival. So hear the good news: The King has come! He is Jesus Christ the Lord. He deserves our loyalty. And he will come again to make this Shadowville and Brightland.