Christmas Eve

Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20

December 24, 2007

Merry Christmas! Our little church is aglow this night –

not only with candles and decorations,

but with families gathered, children come home,

dining room tables filled with foods of the season,

trees trimmed with warm memories

and brimming with surprises hidden behind pretty wrapping paper.

This holy table is also a family gathering place.

We bring thanks for another year of blessings,

relief that this year with its hurdles is almost over,

anticipation that a new year can begin with fresh slate, clean hope.

And, in front of this table is the familiar Christmas crèche or manger

that stands as a timeless icon for this holy night.

It is logical at first brush to assume that Christmas

– Christ’s Mass – Christ’s festal meal,

springs from this manger, where it all began with his birth.

But, what is it about his birth that causes us to

return to it and reenact it each and every year

to kneel together and sing Silent Night?

Why do we remember the details of people’s births?

Of all the people you know, and know of,

whose births do you know as much about as you do

the birth of this little boy from Nazareth?

We can tell the stories of our own children’s births in such detail.

We have heard the stories by our grandparents and parents of

our first gasp of oxygen, our first word, our first step.

Whose births do you know details about –

besides Moses in the bulrushes and Jesus in the manger?

Other holy ones like The Buddha?

Born to a King and Queen, raised in complete isolation

from all exposure to death and suffering?

Celebrities’ children like Lisa Marie Presley?

Millions stream through Graceland

and can see her crib and bedroom furnishings

and childhood clothes and the familiar photograph

of her mother coming out of the hospital.

Quintuplets featured on Good Morning America?

Videos show incredulous viewers how five babies are fed and clothed and managed.

Your family dog’s first litter of puppies?

How she made a safe den from blankets and rags,

and the wonder of her instincts

as she birthed and cleaned and fed and protected her little ones.

with no help from Gerber or Dr. Spock!

The births that we remember are the ones of those whose lives

we have known, or want to know better, …who have mattered to us in some way…

be they holy, celebrity, curiosity, or simply beloved.

And so with Jesus’ birth.

The memory of his birth comes not simply from the birth itself,

which like billions of other births, could have well been lost to all memory.

The memory of his birth began to be held and told and pondered

after his resurrection - by those who experienced his lively and ongoing presence.

We remember details and retell them in ways that give expression

to the truth we yearn for them to convey.

I have in my home the bedroom furniture that was my great-grandparents’.

And even though two of the four generations of babies

that nestled with their mothers in that bed were actually born in hospitals,

the words we recite are:

Yes, four generations of our family were born in that bed….

Meaning…

We all belong because we all share the same beginning,

the same roots. We share a place of identity in that bed.

[It is those who encountered and belonged to the resurrected and living Christ

who looked back and retained certain things about his birth.

Can you imagine the impact of his appearances to his beloved ones –

To Mary his mother –

when she saw him appear and heard him speak in the upper room

Magdalene –

who spent some early morning time with him

in the garden outside the empty tomb,

Peter -  

who had denied him during his trial –

and then leapt out of his fishing boat

and swam to meet his risen lord on shore,

Thomas –

who had doubted the others until he was able

to see Jesus, hear his voice, and touch his scars.

Paul –

who was knocked over by the blinding light of

his encounter with the risen Jesus,

began to serve rather than persecute his name,

And the other disciples…

These were people who knew and loved Jesus

not as a object of study

but as a personal presence and a sustaining power among them.]

In fact, everything we know about Jesus’ life and ministry before his death

comes from the community that also celebrated

his continuing and more powerful presence,

lively among them after his resurrection.

The church given birth by the resurrection of Jesus

preceded any writings about him.

Their memory of his past was selected and shaped

by their continuing experience of him in the present.

And so what did they remember about his birth?

There are so many details to the story

and legends added to it.

They remembered mostly the contrasts:

To name a few:

An angel announces his birth in the middle of the night

to shepherds, wanderers, gypsies, who lived in the fields

–      a late night sideshow

compared to the announcement, the worldwide edict

of the Roman emperor, Caesar Augustus,

that all were compelled to take part in a census

to keep track and control of his realm.

There are innumerable episodes of mythical births

in which a god takes a mortal woman

in order to give birth to a hero.

In the midst of much deception the Greek god, Zeus,

impregnates the woman Semele,

who does not know he is a god.

She demands to know his identity,

and he comes to her wreathed in bolts of lightening,

from which she perishes.

Zeus rescues the unborn child, Dionysus.

The gist is one of the power of the gods imposing themselves on mortal weakness,

for their own prowess and gain.

Mary, in contrast, is approached by a holy messenger

who tells her of God’s will –

that she participate in the bringing forth of a son

who will be a savior,

who will bring about the long-held promises of God.

Rather than a prince whose royal lineage demands

a queen for a mother and a throne for a crib,

Mary, a young unwed mother far from the safety of her family bed

sings in her song to God about this son

through whom God will scatter the proud, lift up the lowly, fill the hungry,

and show mercy and accomplish justice and peace on earth.

And Mary, gently approached, says

Here I am, the servant of the Lord,

Let it be with me according to your word.

And so, what is remembered and conveyed

is that Jesus is born without violence, without sin.

And that his presence among us is not imposed upon us

but we are invited, and if we choose, can take part in bearing him

to the world.

And when the community of the risen Christ read their old prophecies

their experience of his presence rung through clear as a bell.

Isaiah had seen a people, walking in great darkness,

in the midst of military power and heavy oppression

the heavy boots of their soldiers trampling home,

war booty rolled up in bloody garments,

burned as fuel for the all consuming fire of oppressive power.

And from Isaiah, the answer to all this darkness and consumption

is…

a child.

A child who would be a prince .

Not a prince of royal or military power,

but a prince of peace.

And in the early community of those who lived and moved

in the living presence of the risen Jesus,

they read this prophecy and knew they had met this child.

They knew the authority that rested on his shoulders.

And so, a manger tucked away from temples and castles,

a young mother and her husband

who said yes to God’s invitation

and who trusted God’s will.

Important messages entrusted to shiftless shepherds

and a partnership between God and mortals

that turned all other mythological ahas on end…

All from the experience of people

whose lives were being changed and formed

by their relationship with Christ –

not the Jesus of a less-than-airtight biography

but the Jesus in whom they lived and moved and had their very being.

When we look at the manger and remember its story:

Let it call us not merely to a nostalgic story,

with a manger whose figures we touch again,

but let it call us to learn the One who evoked all that pondering and remembering.

It comes to us from a community that has learned Jesus in their worship:

From the beginning believers have recognized him

in the gestures of breaking and blessing.

We are truly connected to him when we come together to share at his table.

And in such welcome as he extends to us, he bids us welcome each other.

And, so, after we have received from him at his table,

We will kneel with round yon virgin and quaking shepherds

And we will hear our voices joined together,

With probably more than a few angels

as we sing:

‘Silent Night, Holy Night’,

may the Son of God who is Love’s pure light

continue in new and present ways to warm your hearts, quicken your imaginations

strengthen your passions and embody our lives.