CHRISTMAS EVE
O Holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin and enter in, be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!
Here we are – the Church of the Nativity
and it is Christmas Eve – the Feast of the Nativity
and you are all at home watching this on your computers.
One might think this is a sad state of affairs
for us, for the parish, for the country, for the world.
Is it the saddest day, though, for the Church of the Nativity?
As soon as I started thinking that this had to be the hardest year for Nativity,
I suddenly recalled some of the earliest history of this congregation.
That wasn’t hard because we have reminders of it
right here in this building,
beginning with the Nativity window above the altar.
It was given in memory of two children who had died.
The Good Shepherd window also given
by parents remembering their children who had died,
and other windows commemorating a total of 8 children who died.
Those where not happy Christmases, those years back in the beginning
when too often parents buried their children.
Yes, there have been times of grief and blue Christmases here in the past,
especially in those early years.
And yet here is this parish, faced now with a new challenge,
one not encountered before,
but this faith community is nevertheless continuing,
feeling our way through to new ground.
Admittedly this is second best, at the most,
coming to you through this medium instead of being together.
Nevertheless this IS a way to connect, for us to be together
on this most holy night.
So it is good to be present here tonight,
to choose to sit before the screen
here in the midst of whatever else is occurring
in your homes and your lives for this holiday.
For many throughout the world tonight life is particularly hard and dark
either from the pandemic or climate migration
or from a continuous denial of justice
or from the aftermath of angry violence
or from loss of job and income
or loss of house and home
or any other catastrophe happening at the moment.
Instead of what we so deeply long for in terms of being together –
the familiar carols and faces of family and friends around us,
instead as you sit before the screen, let us focus on that first Christmas Eve,
that night when Jesus was born and what that brought to the world.
When Joseph and Mary arrived in Bethlehem
there did not seem to be anyone, any family there
who would greet them and offer them a place to stay in their homes.
Instead at the local caravanserai,
the motel of the ancient world located just outside the city walls,
all the rooms were taken by those who had arrived before them
or those who had money to buy them a way in.
But Mary at nine months pregnant was in desperate and immediate need.
So I imagine that there was at least a modicum of compassion expressed,
since shelter was given in stables under the rooms of the caravanserai above.
Was anyone there to be midwife to Mary?
I would guess that there was, some angelic soul of a neighbor or two,
that rose to the extraordinary occasion of
giving birth so far from home and among strangers.
When faced with a dire situation, remember the words of Mr. Rogers
quoting his mother: “Look for the helpers.”
The Holy Family were not alone.
There were fellow travelers and local villagers
and rustic shepherds streaming in from the fields
all drawn to this newborn human being
in such a hurry to be born into this waiting world
that he did not wait for his mother to settle into a proper home,
a proper place in which to be born.
And so the Christ Child rushed into the place that needed him most,
a small village,
not Jerusalem the capitol with all its assets and advantages,
but a small village,
and in a way station for weary travelers,
among the displaced and the un-housed,
among an oppressed people feeling the pinch of the Roman tribute tax,
among the aching, longing hearts filled with hopes and fears.
This is where our Lord rushed to be born.
And so here today in such a heart sick world
would not our Lord also rush to be born anew?
The hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight.
May you find a refuge of love and joy expressed here tonight in this liturgy
in the midst of a world of anxiety, anger, loneliness and grief.
There have been times of grief and blue Christmases here in the past.
And yet here is this parish, faced with a challenge not encountered before,
but nevertheless continuing,
feeling our way through new ground.
So let’s look at Christmas 2020 as the year we stood firm in our faith
and celebrated Christmas quite differently than usual,
but nevertheless celebrated Christmas.
How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven
No ear may hear His coming
But in this world of sin
Where meek souls will receive him still
The dear Christ enters in.
AND CHRISTMAS MORNING
The blessings of the Holy Child born of Mary be with you!
I hope you all have taken some delight and joy in the sharing of photos
of some of the Christmas crèches and Nativity scenes
that you have in your homes.
We each take a model of a glorified stable
and adorn it with loving hands
and place each figurine in it just so.
It is an exercise in which we make room abundantly available in our homes
for the Christ Child to come,
and none of the other figures in the scene are left out either.
Assembling the crèche is an act of devotion to the baby in the manger,
as a small gesture as it is,
yet nevertheless it can give us an almost sacramental resource
to nourish and strengthen our hungry souls.
If your crèche is near at hand, you may want to take the little Christ Child
and cradle him in the palm of your hand.
You may find a refuge of love and joy through this simple act of touch,
in a time when touch is so limited,
a comfort and reminder of where our faith lies
in the midst of this world so full right now
with anger, violence, loneliness and grief.
As I was pondering again the ancient story of the Nativity
one word in the text stood out for me in an unexpected way.
“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host…”
-- heavenly host, host –
What is it that we usually picture in our minds for this?
Do we see an angel choir with cherub faces
floating aloft on gorgeous wings in the starry night sky
and singing glory to God?
But that is not what the word host signifies here,
because the word in the text, which is translated as host here,
is actually the Greek word for army.
That shifts the imagery significantly.
The shepherds out in the fields keeping watch over their flock by night
are startled by the appearance of a bright messenger from God
there in their midst
announcing the birth of their Savior who, oddly enough,
will be recognizable, because this will be a baby
whose cradle is a feeding trough, a manger.
And then to compound the paradoxical news
the angel is suddenly surrounded by an army vast in number,
an army of angel warriors.
And their war cry is “Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth – peace!
What were the shepherds to think? or us? What are we to think?
The historical setting for all this taking place
was a particularly harsh and violent time.
The people to whom this angelic message came lived in a country
groaning under the oppression of a conquering army.
Any hint of rebellion was put down violently by the heavy military presence,
and further discouragement for revolt came in the form
of public crucifixion.
And these people were being forced to pay heavy taxes,
taxes to pay for the military expenses
of the very soldiers standing over them.
Think of this – the largest part of the Roman budget was for the military.
What might the shepherds hope for?
God’s army come to liberate them?
Yet what do the angels say?
Peace on earth in those humans of good will,
for those whose will is consistent with God’s will.
And this will be accomplished for you and in you
through the Savior born that night,
born not in a royal palace to be the commander in chief,
but in an obscure and unlikely place.
What a wonder!
In the midst of all this inhumanity and cruelty,
the Holy Divine intervenes
complete with an unearthly army of spiritual beings,
but not as a political, military supreme divine leader
to oppose the divine Roman emperor,
but simply as a human being,
a human being who would live among us
and grow up and experience fully life in this world,
and who would show us what it really means to be a human being,
what it is like to live into the full potential of human being.
And where did that full and mature humanity take him?
Right to a Roman cross.
A violent end reserved for criminals and enemies of the state.
Yet that was the plan all along.
From the moment of the first breath of the baby Jesus
his fate was sealed; there would be a last breath.
Thus it is with all of us.
We are mortal, and Jesus joined us in that mortality.
What wondrous love is this?
The Savior would spend his life and give that last breath
as a gift to all -- the gift of himself to be in us
that we might know, really know and experience
that peace the angel army proclaimed.
This is liberation --
then and now
from all that oppresses
from every inhumanity that can be perpetrated.
If you do not know peace, the peace that passes all understanding,
then come to the manger and gaze upon the Holy Child
until the peace comes.
I conclude with these words
from another the Christmas carols we love so much,
“It came upon the midnight clear.”
Yet with the woes of sin and strife
the world has suffered long;
beneath the heavenly hymn have rolled
two thousand years of wrong;
and warring humankind hears not
the tidings which they bring;
O hush the noise and cease your strife
and hear the angels sing.
No comments:
Post a Comment