Sermon for Christmas Eve

Real Light, True Gift

Charlie Barton • December 24, 2010 • Saint James, Monkton

Many, many centuries ago the prophet Isaiah spoke a word from God to the people of his country. Times were hard and uncertain, but the words -spoken in the present tense as though the day had already arrived- were full of hope about the future that God was promising: "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness - on them a light has shined," Isaiah said.

Isaiah knew that being faithful to God is tough, costly and even dangerous. But like other prophets, apostles and martyrs after him, Isaiah believed that being faithful to God, no matter what, leads to something better than we can imagine or pray for. That's why Isaiah goes on to say: "For all the boots of tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. For a child has been born for us, a son given to us..." You can see why the Prince of Peace is one of the names Isaiah uses later in this text to name this child. Disbanded armies don't need boots. And who wouldn't rather come and adore a baby than pick up a sword?

Any baby seems like proof positive of the existence of divinity. New life! What a wonder. Just expecting a child, particularly your first, is one of the most powerful feelings a person can have. It is also a time when you realize that there are things in motion in life about which you can know very little. Even in this age of sonograms and amniocentesis there's often more mystery than knowledge at work.

Ask any parent: a coming child can change everything. Prospective parents may ask, "But what about all the worry and waiting, the labor pains that lead to birth and the years of work that follow?" Here's a homespun response: Debra and I have two sons. Other families have more children than we do. Yes, a child can change everything, but the evidence suggests that many people feel that that kind of relationship is worth the pain, the cost, the worry and the work, doesn't it? Go ahead young parents -have that child you're thinking about. Go ahead...have more than one. You will discover joys you never knew and agonies you could never anticipate. Some days you will ask yourselves "what were we thinking?" You will grow older faster, but you will be deeper and wiser people for it. But most days you'll just thank God for the gift that children are, and the ways they change your life.

Abandon all thoughts of being in control. Life just isn't like that. That's part of what having children teaches us. It starts at birth. Some folks go to great length to work out the timing for the birth of their child. Most of us discover that babies come when they are ready, not when we might choose. All the plans to have the nursery done, or the finances straightened out, or to settle what school they should go to or when they can begin dating are for naught. Babies come when they come.

And then our job is to let go of all our preconceived notions, fall on our knees and adore them. It's the same story with God's son, who like our children came when God decided it was time.

Luke tells the story of Christ's birth, a son born FOR all of us, against the backdrop of Imperial Rome. Rome enforced a peace that was neither an absence of violence nor, in many cases, actual peace but rather the suppression of conflict by power and fear.

That is the atmosphere that covered the landscape over which a young, very pregnant, woman lurched toward Bethlehem. She was a nobody, in a marriage that had started badly. Her husband was not the father of her child. The taxes were due and Mary and her husband were poor. And now just when Mary is so exhausted that she can travel no more, Joseph tells her there is no room in the inn, no bed to fall into. It is dark by the time Mary goes into labor - in the barn.

This is what life looked like for the one who said to the angel Gabriel, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word."

Yes, there was an angel, a messenger from God. And then there was squalor and discomfort before the glory of the Lord shone all about. And when that glory did shine forth it was not in a palace, or the Sanhedrin, or in the better shops of the marketplace. The host of angels came first to shepherds: outcasts who smelled, who were looked down upon by almost everyone, uneducated, uncouth and unaccepted by most yet beloved by God. These least in society were those honored by being the first to hear the Good News of the Savior's arrival. But isn't it fitting? Who needed to know this saving news more than lonely outcasts who dwelt in darkness among mute sheep. Didn't God promise to travel to the lost, the lonely, the last and the least?

Difficult times, (and also much waiting), are always travelling companions to those who would draw near to God, approach the manger or follow a grown up Jesus. The gifts under our trees cannot compare with the gift given on a tree at Easter. And the manger of Christmas can no more be separated from the Cross of Easter than the cost of discipleship can be parsed out from the joys that come from a faithful life.

It is easy to adore the baby in the manger. It is more challenging to follow the man.

And Jesus does make it pretty hard to follow him. The demands on his disciples are deep and wide. "Lose your life if you want to save it," he says. "Give up everything for my name's sake." Jesus makes the way straight, and narrow: Think of others before yourself, he says. Love God above everything and everybody else. Then act on that love, for other's, even at the cost of your life.

What a leap this is from the manger scenes we see on Christmas cards. But that leap does not negate the image at the starting point.

The baby is radiant. What new mother isn't beautiful and beatific? Of course the shepherds look awestruck and joyous. Who wouldn't? But it's a snapshot, not the whole movie.

And so it is with us. Christmas Eve is a great time to gather and adore the baby Jesus. Let's sing carols at the top of our lungs like shepherds who have found the brandy as well as the Son of God. But when we get up off our knees we should remember that we're bound to encounter the rest of the story. We'll encounter those same sorts of things that made Mary ponder not only what the angel had said to her but the words of Simeon said in the temple - "and a sword will pierce your soul too."

The glory of God is found in the mess of everyday life. Like the labor pains that produce new life, we too will sometimes find ourselves gasping and groaning at events not under our control. Like Mary and Joseph we may travel farther and longer than we might wish only to find darkness and no room in the inn.

But the child is in the manger for all of us. The child in the manger is not simply the reason for the season. He is the Savior of the world. So come kings and shepherds; Come angels and choirs; O Come you who rejoice and you who feel broken; O Come children and parents, acolytes and priests.

Let the nations fall to their knees and the whole world pass away, but come let us adore him, then rise up and serve Him, to the glory of His name. AMEN

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