First Reading—Titus 3: 3-8
At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, we were saved, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of Divine mercy. God saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, who was poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life. This is a trustworthy saying. And I want you to stress these things, so that those who have trusted in God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good. These things are excellent and profitable for everyone.
Gospel Reading—Matthew 1: 18-25
This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.
But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”
All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Emmanuel” (which means “God with us”).
When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.
~~~~~~
They Will Call Him Emmanuel 12-25-11
God, our creator and redeemer, speak to us this day. Bring us to stand at the stable and worship. Let us hear what you have prepared for us to hear. May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be a gift to you. Amen
I’m going to let you in on a little ministerial secret. When the holidays come around, whether it be Christmas or Easter, many preachers put a lot more work into their sermons—either because it just sort of goes along with our ideas that holidays are somehow special set-apart days or because we believe the myth—that some people only come to church on those days and if you are going to reach them, you’re going to have to reach them then. Not completely immune to those kinds of thoughts, I found myself struggling a bit to somehow give you what I thought would be an unforgettable Christmas Message this morning. Well, by Friday morning, I was still waiting for the inspiration for those words and as I prayed, a still small voice said to me, “why don’t you tell them what Christmas means to you?” Now, one of the things I have learned to do in my spiritual pilgrimage, although it took decades to happen—is not to argue with that still small voice. So here I am, my friends, brothers, and sisters, with simple words, telling you a little bit about what Christmas means to me.
Like many of you, I have many childhood memories, some wonderful, some not. I had the kind of childhood that social workers describe as difficult. And so some Christmases are filled with good memories, some not so good. For the first dozen or so years of my life, those negative memories are counter-balanced with the memories of the gatherings of my mother’s extended family. Every year, on Christmas Eve, the cousins of all ages would gather in the living room of the house my grandfather built and perform our own Christmas pageant. It will not surprise you to discover that I was the organizer of these pageants while my sister did all the stage work and costume gathering. I wrote the script or narration and assigned the various parts and acts into an orderly presentation. My Catholic cousins brought the music they had learned from the nuns and I will simply never forget my cousin Teresa’s yearly version of “Winds Through the Olive Trees” in an octave so high that it made my grandmother’s dogs run for cover. It was the annual event where the cousins who had grown old enough to walk, talk, and follow simple directions, made their theatrical and musical debut. We were very inclusive, everybody had a part, whether they wanted one or not, and in the end, it was a show that made these country-folk proud. And in retrospect, I can recount the ways the simple family gatherings began to affirm my vocation, long before I knew that I had one.
I have later memories as well, of course. I still curse the day I decided to buy a specific must-have ride-on toy for my son’s first Christmas. I thought the stories about staying up all night putting together toys were myths—made up by my mother to make me more grateful for Christmas. After that night, I knew the truth, and selected toys the next year that either came assembled or appeared much easier to handle. There are Christmas pictures of David as a two-year-old, shunning the toys to play in the boxes, Christmases when he wanted to be mature and hide the fact that he hoped very much that Santa was real, and one very special memory of my son at 20 agreeing to sing a duet with his mother at the Christmas Candlelight Vigil at the Episcopal Church we attended.
And, what about now—our thoughts and feelings are rooted in the past, but they find inspiration in the insight that comes with living life just a little bit longer than the last time we gave the meaning of Christmas serious thought. In all honesty, I sometimes grow as weary of “Jesus is the reason for the season” as I do of Santa Claus so close to Halloween, that we practically hear Christmas carols in the stores while the pumpkins are being carved. For if we are going to claim Jesus as the reason for the season, we need to be ready to tell people why. And the why is revealed succinctly and precisely in the holy name, given to the baby in today’s Gospel Reading—“Emmanuel”—God with us—Emmanuel! In the moment of a baby’s birth, humankind’s relationship to God was changed forever. God, incarnate in the tiny baby in the straw, eliminated the former distance between God, the creator and us, the creation. Though God had always been present in the creation, we were unable to grasp it. So God, incarnate in a tiny baby, became one of us, taking on the form of the very creation. Creation and Creator become a sacred oneness—turning the world’s idea of God inside out. No longer separate from our Creator, we act, not as mere agents for God; no, we act as men and women who are inhabited by the very God who made us and breathed life into our being.
This is why Jesus is the reason for the season—because through Divine Mercy, says our scripture, God saved us—not because of anything we have done but because God chose to bridge the gap between Creator and Creation. And in the bridging of the gap—Emmanuel, God with us, changes who all of us would be—then, now, and forever. For you see, with the incoming of God into the world, with God incarnate in a tiny human being who would grow up to teach and heal and preach—and suffer and die, we would never be the same. God made, for all to see, the sacred connection between us and the Holy by coming to earth in the person of Jesus. And those who sought to follow Jesus, began the journey of learning to live as changed persons, not just in the moment, but for the long haul. Here was God, our Creator accessible in everyday life. This revolution of God was so radical that some could not believe; some still tried to find what was required of us.
This seeking—this inability to believe that God has reached out with arms wide open and welcomed all of creation into the Divine Reign of Justice, has led humankind to try some pretty wild things at times. Our Church history books are full of folks who refused to accept the simplicity of the gospel and sometimes went a long way in the opposite of simple trying to justify themselves before God. But our scripture is clear: “…when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, we were saved, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of Divine mercy.” We know, then, that humankind was made one with God, through grace. Through God’s action we are “heirs having the hope of eternal life”.
Now lest you think I have wandered off into some not very useful theological gobbledy-gook—let me answer the question one more time. What does Christmas mean to me? Christmas means that God has welcomed me and shown me the way into the divine exceeding abundance that we have spoken of off and on for almost a year.
Christmas means that no matter what, God has issued the invitation to live in Divine Grace and nothing I can do can nullify that fact. God loves me whether or not I love God back, or even love myself. God’s promise, made real, in the walking and talking Jesus, shows me how much I am loved. And I am loved, exactly the way I am, sometimes saintly, most of the time quite a collection of starts and stops along the way. Christmas means that God’s will for the creation is, indeed, peace and sacred harmony; and that God’s will for me is to live in the peace that passes understanding and to encourage others to do the same. Christmas means that I am incapable of making this gift unavailable to me. I can refuse to accept it, I can stand outside the door and fail to knock; but it will always be there for me. This is Christmas—the wonder of it all. Christmas doesn’t end with the baby Jesus; it begins there. And Silent Night comes anywhere where God’s people renounce their hatred and greed, and turn an open heart toward God. Christmas means that I will never be alone again; that God is here, present in the Holy Spirit who fills my heart with peace and love. As we worship together for the last time in this year, may our hearts be made glad by the light of the star that still shines, leading us to the fullness of the spirit, now and forever. Amen and amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment