"Shone around them"-Sermon for Christmas Eve, Luke 2:1-20
Kelly noted in his sermon back on the very first Sunday of Advent, which was December 1st, that in the season of Advent the days are getting shorter and the nights longer each day as we move closer to Christmas. For Advent, our four-week journey of joyfully anticipating Christmas begins each year after the autumnal equinox, when indeed, astronomically speaking, the daylight incrementally decreases until Advent ends, for the end of Advent always closely coincides with the winter solstice…the day when the darkness in our hemisphere is most complete. And, I think it is not mere happenstance that Christmas, the celebration of Jesus’ birth, was placed on the Church’s calendar some 1500 years ago exactly when it was. For, as the Gospel writer John notes, it was into the world’s great darkness that the light of God’s love became flesh and dwelt among us full of glory, grace, and truth…God’s eternal light and life…the very power and energy behind the creation that brought all things into being…comes among us…in the very midst of the world’s darkest days. John writes, “In [Jesus] was life, and the life was the light of [all people]. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
And, surely, John was not speaking of seasons or the sun above our head’s movement through time and space as the light changes throughout the year. Instead, Christmas coming in the darkest days of the year is a metaphor for the darkness that we experience much more intimately, sometimes even painfully, as we make our way through this broken and sorely divided world. John is speaking of the darkness of mental and physical illness, of losing a beloved one we can’t imagine living without, of conflict and confusion and violence and disagreement…that leaves no life untouched. And, such painful experiences can feel like we are, indeed, wandering around in the dark, unable to see and overcome the obstacles that we bump into and trip over in the nighttime moments of our lives. Such nighttime experiences breed fear, lead some to hoard resources rather than share, makes us unable to act purposefully or move forward, and can often leave us feeling isolated and terribly alone. And, it is into this present darkness that Christmas comes…light, unexpected and almost imperceptible at first, birthed into the world…and with it hope for a different sort of future for us, for those we love, for the world…begins to emerge.
On the second weekend of October, my family took a few days to go camping in the hill country. We got a late start out of town, leaving after school and work, so, when we arrived out our campsite it was night. We did a quick camp set up, as well as we could in the dark, and then decided to take a walk to stretch our legs after the long drive. Again, it was night and the moon was not up, so it was pretty dark outside. We tried to avoid using flash lights so our eyes would adjust to the darkness to more clearly see the twinkling stars above our heads, and we began to carefully pick our way through the trees trying not to trip over errant rocks and shrubs. We eventually made our way to the Frio River which was a few hundred yards from our campsite. When we finally arrived what light there was shimmered on the river’s surface and the sky opened wide over our heads. To me, it looked like any other October night in the countryside. It was good to breath fresh air and the stars were, indeed, impressive so far from any city lights. But, honestly, I was tired and the warmth and comfort of my bed in Trixie the Trailer, our beloved camper, was calling.
Now, Ashley, who is our official family photographer and quite gifted at it, encouraged us to stay a bit longer, as she wanted to capture a few night time pics of the river. She crouched down to get a picture that included the river’s surface and the sky above. She held herself steady to allow for a long exposure to bring into the camera’s aperture as much light as possible. And, once done, she excitedly rushed over to show us what she had captured…something, that I must say, was entirely surprising, unexpected and wondrous. Though we could not see it with the naked eye, the sky that seemed so very dark was actually entirely full of an amazing light (please forward a slide). You can see the picture on the screen now.
You see, what I didn’t know, was that there was another astronomical event happening that night. The northern lights, the aurora borealis, was making a rare visit to our southern latitudes in Texas. Though, again, I could not perceive it…I could not see it…just behind the veil of darkness…was a bright light that filled me with awe and wonder. I no longer wanted to rush off to bed. I wanted to see it more clearly. The aperture, not just of our cameras, but of my heart was opening wider. Though only the beginning of October, in all honesty, my thoughts turned immediately to Christmas. The word Christmas, literally, burst into my head. That’s it I thought! Light shining in the darkness…light that the darkness cannot overcome…light present even when hard to see in my own life…with my own eyes. I felt like a shepherd in the field…like the angels in light were singing to me, “Glory to God in the highest heaven and peace to his people on earth.”
Friends, the story of Christmas is that the light of the world was birthed among us not as any would ever have predicted it…like the light that night in the hill country…not where anyone expected to see it. Not in some supernatural, attention getting, under the bright lights, well publicized event that demanded the world’s attention…not in a palace or seat of power…not to a family of privilege or through the womb of a queen…or a queen as the world has come to define one. Instead, the light of the world was birthed on the floor of cave, through the womb of a teenager, in the presence of carpenter, in the midst of blood, sweat and sheep manure…in some inconsequential corner of the known world. And, I believe the very point of this reversal of our expectations is to proclaim for all the world to hear…especially in the nighttime moments of our lives when the darkness threatens to overwhelm us…that the light of God’s love, that the darkness cannot overcome, is birthed in ordinary places, into vulnerable lives, even yours…even mine, when we least expect it, when the darkness has blinded us to even the possibility of hope…when the path forward is uncertain and shrouded in darkness. Christmas is a God-given invitation to open the aperture of our hearts wide to see the light…when we don’t expect it…when the eyes of our heart don’t first perceive it…and the glory of God is revealed and hope is birthed afresh.
I remember another nighttime in the Christmas season. A joyful night really some eight years or so ago. As we did just a few weeks back, our family of faith, St. Julian’s, was out caroling in the neighborhood around our old church. After knocking on the door of one home a single person appeared at the door and the 30 or 40 of us gathered sang a carol to her, “Hark the herald Angels sing, glory to the new born King”. She stood through it all silently, without really moving, but in the one light on in the house, as we sang, I saw tears rolling down her cheeks. And, then, we wished her a Merry Christmas. But, before moving on, one of us…not me…but one of you…some wonderful soul in our family of faith…thoughtfully handed the women a card on which was printed our Christmas service times, contact information and the such. And, I honestly don’t remember if she joined us for our Christmas services that year or not. But, some months later I received a call at church from a person in significant distress. She mentioned specifically the caroling and the card and asked if she could come see me. We met for coffee. I heard her story, and it broke my heart. It included betrayal and abuse and loneliness and significant chronic illness. Though part of the abuse included another church, I invited her to join us on a Sunday, and she was courageous enough to come. We welcomed her in, provided care and friendship, connected her to resources in the community, and eventually helped relocate her to another city to be closer to family and better healthcare for her illness that promised a new start. I’ve kept up with her through the years. She is doing great…her life has been reborn. And, she has expressed to me many times along the way that she believes that opening the door that night to the totally unexpected living expression of God’s light, that stood outside her home…meaning us…singing in the dark…in that nighttime moment in her life…along with all the love and care and light that followed as we welcomed her into this family…again she has been very clear with me that she believes that the unexpected light of God’s love that was birthed on that street, on that Christmas season night…saved her life.
Friends, at Christmas the light of God’s love was born into our world to an ordinary family and in the most unexpected of ways. Christmas is God’s invitation to open the aperture of our hearts wide to see that light in our ordinary lives when it feels terribly dark and we need it the most and expect it the least…see God’s light, born among us, in the beauty of the cosmos and the wonder of creation…in the lives of ordinary people doing extraordinary things…in our families…among our friends…in our church…and in us…in you…even me. Whenever we open our hearts wide enough to let in that world creating and life-saving light that comes at Christmas…a light that darkness cannot overcome…hope remains undiminished, and we see more clearly a life worth living…our own life worth living…that matters and makes a difference…and not for ourselves alone…but for the very life of the world…for every person who needs to hear the angel’s sing, “Glory to God in the highest heaven and peace to his people on earth”…for every person who needs help seeing the light for themselves that lies just beyond the veil of their own darkness.
Tonight, and in the days that follow, may we open our hearts to the light that comes at Christmas, even and most especially in ordinary people and unexpected places, till it fills us all the way up and can only overflow into the lives of others…the very same light that shines forth first from the Babe of Bethlehem…around whom we gather together…in this light-filled, nighttime moment. O come, let us adore him. Amen.