Nativity of Our Lord – Christmas Eve
(Year B) – Saturday, December 24, 2011 10:00 PM
Christ Evangelical Lutheran Church,
Lancaster, PA
Texts: Isaiah 9:2-7, Luke 2:1-20
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.
This
is a special time for us to gather as the Church, and not only
because it's Christmas Eve, but because we are gathering together at
night. It's not something we do very often. We gather on Sunday
mornings, the morning of Christ's resurrection, light streaming
through our stained glass windows into our worship space. But now,
we've gathered at night, with darkness all around us, with the light
of this worship, the light of Christ, streaming out through these
same windows into our dark world. And it is dark, our world, and so
are our lives.
Where
is your life starved of light this Christmas? Perhaps you are
struggling to put presents under the tree or Christmas dinner on the
table. Perhaps it is in this season that you have lost someone you
love. Sickness or injury has kept many in our church family from
witnessing this light with us tonight. Perhaps the darkness of our
society's endless expectations that you be something other than who
God has made you to be keeps your soul captive. Our society is also
covered in darkness. We proclaim peace on earth and goodwill toward
men, but what does that peace and goodwill mean when millions of
children die of treatable diseases every year, as we repeat the
religious slogans that make us feel better about ourselves? The
darkness of poverty, of tyranny, of ethnic and racial hatred, and of
environmental devastation grips our world.
In our
text today the darkness of the world's most powerful empire literally
surrounds the story of Jesus' birth. The reason Mary and Joseph
travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem is to satisfy the demand of Caesar
Augustus that all his subjects be registered, or counted, so that he
would know how much to tax each province. Mary and Joseph are made
homeless, immigrants, even, so that they could pay their meager dues
to the Roman war machine. They are tossed about in a world governed
by the personal greed and ambitions of the political and economic
elite. Jesus is born into an empire supported on the backs of the
poorest, most vulnerable people.
The
night points to the darkness in our world and in our lives, but the
night is not all darkness. The stillness, calmness and silence of
the night provide a space for us to see the darkness clearly. At
night one can see injustice clearly as our neighbors huddle for
warmth in the alleyway. In long nights beside a hospital bed, or on
our knees in desperate prayer, things become clear. I must admit I
have a special love for the night. When I lived in Washington, DC, a
few years ago I would walk the streets for hours after the sun set,
passing the still beauty of the National Mall, the silent protest of
the 24-hour peace vigil outside the White House, and everyone from
the most wealthy and powerful to the most vulnerable and poor. What
became clear to me those quiet, calm nights is how much we all need
God, and how in the midst of that darkness, the light of Christ comes
powerfully, and uniquely, to each of us. I experienced the truth
that God works at night.
Yes,
God works at night! It was in the night, quietly, without fanfare,
that our Lord Jesus Christ was born in a tiny hamlet to a poor
immigrant couple in a barn that probably smelled like the clouds of
bovine odor that waft through Lancaster County. With no one looking
on but a bunch of dirty, outcast shepherds that no one would believe
anyways, God was born. No grand entry into the world, no red carpet,
nowhere we'd think the Messiah would be.
God's
light shines on those who live in darkness, on us. We who have
walked in darkness are the ones who have seen a great light. God
entered the darkness fully. God committed to it, to us, his children
with darkness in our hearts. God got involved in history. God is
getting involved in your life. God did uncontrollable and
unpredictable things, like being born and experiencing all the
vulnerabilities and limitations of being human, most especially
mortality. God loves to enter our lives where we least expect him –
like in a manger, or on a cross, or meeting us in the stillness and
clarity of the night. Tonight, here, wherever you are in your life,
whatever darkness you face, a light begins to shine for you,
revealing something new.
The
light of Christ reveals that you are loved so much that God became
human to be closer to you. The light shines on the truth that no
matter what you have done or failed to do, you are forgiven. The
light enters your heart to give you the peace that comes from knowing
you are enough, that you are a sacred, unique, never-to-be-copied
masterpiece of God's creative power. The light reveals the mystery
of the God who could be born and die, the God who could have mercy on
our world's darkness, the God who could fill our hearts with enough
faith, peace, love and hope to have compassion on our enemies and
become family with strangers, to go running to embrace those who have
wronged us and to believe that another world is possible.
When we
behold the God who has embraced us so much that he became one of us,
as we gaze upon the baby in the manger, our only response is awe,
wonder, adoration. God may not have sent winged creatures to
intercept you and direct you here tonight, but some angel, some
messenger of God has brought you here to witness the Savior's birth.
Come and behold him proclaimed in these scriptures. Come and behold
him washing over you in baptism. Come and behold him broken and
poured out for you in this meal of bread and wine. And then go out
and make known what you have seen and heard here, for when you do so
you carry the Christ child in your arms. You carry a Word, the Word
made flesh, that the world needs.
But on this most holy night, take a moment to live in the holy mystery of the God who was born into humanity, so that we, and our world, might have new life. Look at the greenery, the star atop the tree, the poinsettias, and the candles all around you; gaze upon the infant in the manger, hear the blessed words and melodies you are singing, and behold Emmanuel, God with us, here tonight. On this most holy night, God has appeared for your salvation, quietly, surprisingly, and powerfully. Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those he favors! Amen.
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