sermons and notes posted on this blog are not necessarily what came out of my mouth during the services,
but they'll offer a sense my dance with the Holy Spirit while preparing to preach

Saturday, December 24, 2011

We’re keeping the light on for you


Welcome to Christmas Eve services at Church of the Covenant.  Who here is visiting, having traveled to get here?  Who lives here in the Junction City area, but hasn’t been to this church in a while? 



When you hear “Nativity scene”, how many of you hear soft Christmas music, perhaps “Silent Night,” playing in the background and see a Hallmark image of carefully placed, clean people, neatly robed all calmly gathered around what looks like a little crib… star suspended silently in the night sky above; perhaps an angel hovering near; grandfatherly shepherds gathered to one side and three exotically dressed guys bearing gifts from the other side; and animals sitting well behaved?  How many of you find peace and comfort in this scene as I’ve described it?


I don’t want any of us to lose that image – carefully suspended as it is in many of our earliest memories of calming Christmas times past.  And… on this holy night, I’d like us to follow the invitation of the Holy Spirit to look deeper into this scene and consider anew what is going on there… and what is going on inside us.  Even if a bit uncomfortable at first, imagining the scene in a more edgy, realistic way, might actually offer deeper comfort to those who need light in the darkness these days.

ILLUSTRATION: a moving video from December 2010 of a church’s ‘flash mob’ at the South Bay Galleria, Redondo Beach, CA (http://youtu.be/Vnt7euRF5Pg) in which their powerful harmony of voices, coming from escalators and all around, resonate throughout the three-story atrium center court singing a medley of hymns, arresting shoppers in awe, and ends with a quiet surprise of Mary and Joseph, in period dress, holding their live baby emerging in the middle of the crowd in the center of the ground floor during the final hymn as wide-eyed children seem to instinctively kneel at the sight of the holy family.

What does this scene, at first sentimental and then more challenging as we consider it, say to us about darkness and light and the in-breaking of Christ into our very busy, and sometimes very empty, lives? 

DISCUSSION POINTS: bright mall / consumerism; anxiety and entitled materialism, or the fear and shame of the lack of ‘stuff’; a darkness that sometimes underlies our desperate search for satisfaction; an unexpected interruption and a scene that shakes us, like a snow globe, into a moment of wonder and awe

Without boring you with too much historical detail, let me just say that the choice of this date as the remembrance of the birth of our Lord was very intentional, although the specific reasons are a matter of scholarly speculation.  In fact, stories of the birth of Jesus don’t seem to particularly important in our earliest traditions – neither of the earliest writings we’ve found, those attributed to Paul and those attributed to Mark, even mention it.  Over a hundred years after the life and death of Jesus, an early church scholar finally proposed that Jesus might have been born in the springtime.  As interest grew in elaborating on the nature of who/what Jesus was, more attention was paid to a birth narrative that would emphasize an evolving understanding of Christ.
It wasn’t until the mid-4
th Century – three hundred years after the blessed birth - that we find references to birthdates of either December 25 or January 6.  Over time, the Western (Roman) tradition overshadowed the Eastern traditions and most Christians now observe the twelve days of Christmas beginning on December 25 and ending with Epiphany on January 6 (which is the date that many Greek Orthodox and Armenian Christians still observe as the birth date of Jesus). 

Daniela Bertol (New York) 

Ok. So, why December 25?  No one can yet say for sure – it’s a matter of debate. Some suggest that it was chosen so that a Christian celebration would overtake the pagan celebrations on this date.  Others have said that December 25 became favored because it's nine months after church tradition observes the conception of Jesus.  What is clear is that the winter solstice that we’ve observed this week, the moment marking the darkest time of the year (shortest day / longest night), has endured as a special observance among various cultures in the northern hemisphere.  About 50 years before the birth of Jesus, Julius Caesar, in what came to be known as the Julian calendar, marked December 25 as the occasion of this winter solstice.  It’s the longest night - a time we begin to anticipate the return of more light into our daily routines as we tilt back toward its radiant, warm beams.  Over time, this date marked the worship of son gods, the initiation of the season of light, etc.. 

Tonight, we’re invited to consider where we experience darkness in our lives… perhaps even deep darkness.  Perhaps the darkness is a source of sorrow or fear. Perhaps it’s a place where there’s no longer warmth, only cold indifference.  Tonight, all may not seem particularly calm or peaceful.  
Tonight, amid the darkness, we’re invited to listen to the labored breathing and birthing pains and of Mary, to see sweat drip from Joseph’s brow with both worry and wonder on his face as he tries to comfort her, and to hear the sounds of the curious barnyard animals as they approach the feeding tough and we smell their warm breath as they draw closer to us sniffing curiously through the darkness.  
Mary and Joseph are away from home – visitors in a town not their own.  No one has extended them hospitality this important evening.  They’re about to give birth to God-knows-who here in this dingy, smelly barn. Both Mary and Joseph, in their own separate encounters with the divine, have been told to name their soon-to-arrive child, Jesus – Joshua / Yeshua: “For he will save his people from their sins” (Matt 1:20-21) and “he will be great… and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:31-33).  

In the stress and strain of this moment in this strange place, perhaps neither of them are focused on what these words might mean. In order to keep their newborn off the dirt, they’re going to place him into a trough which has been holding animal feed.

Is this the Hallmark scene we have in mind?  What do you perceive when you imagine them in the middle court of this enormous shopping mall?

Yet, to paraphrase a popular adage attributed to a 17
th Century Theologian (Thomas Fuller), it’s darkest before a new day dawns.
God, in all of God’s creative majesty, has humbled himself, stripped himself of so much, and come down to them – to us – as a tender, vulnerable child.  Yes, this child will one day mature and surprise us with his life of prophetic teachings and his counter-cultural ministry of loving the least among us and 
healing ills that otherwise interfere with our communion. Tonight, however, we can imagine him crying and struggling, gasping on the new air in his lungs, totally dependent on his human parents – on us – for protection, feeding, and care. 

Our tradition celebrates that it is precisely at this moment of real vulnerability, amid the darkness and a visceral mess in less-than-ideal circumstances in an awkward situation and a strange place, to a humble rural couple, that divine light comes to us… and this is good news! 
God comes to us where we are, as we are.

There’s amazing grace in remembering that God comes to us like this – chooses to come to us amid darkness and messiness in our lives, acknowledging our hopes and fears and assuring us that we need not fear.

In our hymns tonight, we hear:


“…yet in thy dark streets shineth the ever lasting Light; the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.” (Hymn 79 / O little town of Bethlehem)

“…and to the earth, it gave great light… it continued both day and night.” (Hymn 109 / The first Nowell)

“Radiant beams from Thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.” (Hymn 111 / Silent night)

“Joy to the world!  The Lord is come… let every heart prepare him room…” (Hymn 100 / Joy to the world)

In our readings tonight from the Word of God and the Gospel of our Lord, we’re assured:

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them light has shined.” (Isaiah 9:2)

“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all…” (Titus 2:11)

“…the glory of the Lord shone around them…. Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day… a Savior...” (Luke 2:9-11)

Imagine the Nativity scene again.  Where are you/we in the scene?  How do you relate to what’s really going through this scene?  How is this house – Church of the Covenant – a modern model of hosting those who are seeking good news – the radiance of hope - and those who are birthing new life and growing with Christ?  What will you do as you go forth again into the world from here?

Darkness. 

Literally or figuratively…

Perhaps you’re visiting from far away or just wandering a bit in your journey away from home. 

Perhaps you’ve felt like a shepherd from the far fields – viewed with suspicion or contempt by those who don’t understand your way life (it’s lonely and dirty work). 

Perhaps you’ve been told before that there’s no room for you or hospitality has been withheld from you in a time of need.

Perhaps you’re hungry and seeking real sustenance.

Perhaps you’ve been praying for, waiting for, an angel – or any sign from heaven - to relieve your fear and assure you that all shall be well, all manner of things will be well (ref. Julian of Norwich).

Emerging light.



Tonight, amid the cold darkness outside, we’re reminded that the Light of the world has come to us will never leave us.  We’ve been assured that with Jesus is born life and light for all people – light that shines in the darkness and it not overcome by it. (John 1:4-5)


Tonight, our hunger can be met as we feast on the bread of heaven and drink again from the cup of salvation in communion with Christ and with our brothers and sisters gathered in his name.

Tonight, in this house, as the lights come up, look around you and see your family in Christ.  Really look at each other in this Christmas light.  Resolve anew to care for one another as Jesus cares for us – extending extraordinary hospitality, particularly to strangers; nourishing and healing each other as we’ve been taught how to do; and bolding going forth to proclaim Good News to others in search of light and life.

I invite you to close your eyes so that it’s really dark for a few moments.  Take a deep breath.  Imagine the reality of this Nativity in your own life. 


God is coming to you - a light piercing through even the distance and darkness of this winter solstice…


Jesus is being born - a flame of hope that continues burning even when worldly circumstances are otherwise very dim…


His Holy Spirit is within us – giving us enough light to see hope through any darkness and to witness to the perpetual birth forgiveness, redemption and salvation.


“Son of God, love’s pure light.  Radiant beams from Thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace.”  


Christ our savior is born.

AMEN.



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