"And she gave birth"-Sermon for Christmas Eve, Luke 2:1-14
So, I really mean this when I say that I believe we all know what Christmas is really all about. Our presence here together tonight…the songs and prayer…and maybe some laughs and few tears offered along the way speak to the fact that we know what lies at the heart of Christmas…the reason for the season…if you will. And, though I personally have great affection for so many of our Christmas traditions, including many of the more cultural ones, we also know what Christmas is not…all the shiny things that take up…and sometime demand…so much of our attention…the presents, the parties, the Hallmark movies and moments, the lights and decorations, the enough food to feed an army, the family in matching sweaters, the Christmas cards donned with pictures of staged domestic bliss. Instead, we know Christmas is about Jesus’ presence in our lives and not presents under the tree. We don’t need the ubiquitous bumper stickers to remind us to keep Christ in our Christmas celebrations.
And, when I think about what Christmas really means to me, one of the very first images that always comes to mind is this (show pic). I’m sure you recall Charlie Brown and Linus are standing on their Christmas pageant stage. Charlie Brown is having his existential crisis about the meaning of Christmas…after being practically laughed off the stage by his friends mocking the little, stringy Christmas tree that he saved from the dumpster…where it surely would have ended up had he not seen something in it…something worth saving. He then turns to Linus…his “old soul” friend…with desperation on his face…and asks him if he knows the meaning of Christmas. And, in my mind’s eye, even now, I can see Linus’ sweet response. He enters center stage…the lights fall on him. He then drops his safety blanket…that he typically cannot face this worry filled world without…and tells the old, old story about the Babe in a manger…hope and life and light…God’s living love in flesh and blood…God in a vulnerable new born babe…come down to us, all of us, through the womb of a teenager, in the presence of a carpenter, on the floor of stable…surrounded by blood, sheep manure and straw. God with us in the very midst of human vulnerability, in human connection, in the commitment of a newly formed family, in the middle of our world that is so full of brokenness and beauty. I believe that’s a story that we all need to tell and remember now more than ever. It is the story that I have given my life to, and it is the world’s last, best hope. God entering our vulnerable lives and world with his love that will be all in all in the fullness of time. This story bursts my heart wide open and fills me with hope and warmth from the top of my head to the bottom of my toes.
And yet, it would be disingenuous, at least to the mix of feelings rolling around in my gut, if I did not acknowledge that this Christmas feels and is, indeed, different this year…to put it mildly…in some fundamental and important ways. Families are making the sacrificial choice for their own health, the health of their loved ones, and the health of the larger community to not be together…to not gather in-person…at least as they typically would. For the very same reasons, our church is worshiping this most holy night and throughout this season entirely on-line…together…but still very much apart…and that’s hard. Healthcare workers and chaplains are continuing to heroically place life and limb in harm’s way to help heal those in overflowing hospitals. Families are grieving a first Christmas without a loved one who has been taken by COVID or just lost in this year that has not allowed us to gather, grieve, and give thanks for their life as we normally would…only exacerbating the depth of the loss. And, individuals and families are experiencing much less around the tree or on the table…if a tree was even in the budget…perhaps making a first ever trip to a food pantry to make certain the cupboards are not entirely empty at Christmas…all following a job loss or cut in pay due to an ailing economy suffering at the hands of this pandemic…a pandemic that has disproportionately been felt by those who were already living at the margins.
I want to thank my friend Luis Morales for this image…but this pandemic sort of feels like the “Grinch who Stole Christmas”…insidiously sneaking through the darkness into our homes and schools and offices and churches and communities…taking from us that which feels safe and familiar and recognizable, robbing from us time spent delighting in each other’s presence, and shattering our hope-filled dreams of peace on earth and goodwill to all people. But, of course, those like me who are fans of Dr. Seuss know that’s not how this timeless tale ends…for Christmas is something that can never really be stolen from us. Here’s just the ending…I thought it might be fun to watch it together (video link). Christmas is indeed about something much, much more. No Grinch…whatever its strength…no matter what form it takes…no matter the depth of its darkness…can ever overcome the light that shines forth through our Lord Jesus’ glorious birth. We gather hand in hand today, if not in flesh then bound together by God’s unbreakable string of love, basking in God’s light perpetual to sing out once again that God’s love cannot be conquered…even by the death-dealing powers that hold sway in this world.
So, I am a big fan of the singer/songwriter Sufjan Stevens. His Christmas albums, in particular, are often on repeat in my home this time of year. And he wrote one Christmas song in particular titled, “Christmas in the Room” that has filled me with wonder and hope this year, 2020, in particular. The lyrics read like poetry:
No travel bags, no shopping malls No candy canes, no Santa Claus For as the day of rest draws near It's just the two of us this year
No silver bells or mistletoe We'll kiss and watch our TV show
I'll come to you, I'll sing to you Like it's Christmas in the room I'll dance with you, I'll laugh with you 'Til it's Christmas in the room
No traffic jams, no ice and storm Far in the house the fire is warm No Christmas tree, no great parade It's just an ordinary day
No parties planned, no place to go It's just the two of us alone And in the house we see a light That comes [from] what we feel inside
I'll come to you, I'll sing to you Like it's Christmas in the room I'll dance with you, I'll laugh with you 'Til it's Christmas in the room
Oh, I can't see the day when we'll die But I don't care to think of silence For now I hear you laughing The greatest joy is like the sunrise
No gifts to give, they're all right here Inside our hearts, the glorious cheer And in the house we seek a light That comes from what we know inside
I'll come to you, I'll sing to you Like it's Christmas in the room I'll dance with you, I'll laugh with you 'Til it's Christmas in the room
Like the Who’s down in Whoville...like Sufjan Stevens croons…we can sing together, dance together, laugh together, those we are blessed to be with…those who join us on screens…till we realize that Christmas is indeed in the room. Like in that old, old story that Linus told, which was nothing more and nothing less than a child quoting scripture…in that Silent Night when our Dear Lord was born there were very few people present, the only gift was a small family gathered, the only decorations were swaddling clothes keeping a baby warm, the only food was what was left in the meager bag of provisions packed for a long trip made by foot…and yet on Christmas morn in the room was everything that was and will be…everything we will ever need…everything that makes the heart glad…everything that pushes back against all that surrounds us that is so very sad.
Christmas is not a day or a season. Christmas is the eternal, never-ending angel song moving forward and backward in time…stirring our hearts to join in…to take our place in the angel’s choir…to sing and dance and laugh together till we remember that Christmas is in the room…till we take our place with Linus around the manger…enter the story ourselves and know that Christmas is in the room. Jesus, the Babe of Bethlehem, God’s love come near, everything we need to live a full life of meaning and purpose…is already in the room…the room that is as small and as ginormous as the hearts of flesh that beat within us right now…that Jesus is born into once again right now…our hearts keeping rhythm with choirs of angels who voices are made known in our own singing, dancing, laughing, crying, and adoring…together.
Let us sing out and dance and laugh this night and the days that follow with whoever is in the room, and if some tears come that is right and good too, that all might come to know the joy of this night…that which, as I began, we already really do know…that Christmas is in the room with us…that God’s love, which cannot be overcome, is, even now, being birthed into the room with us. Amen.