Luke 2:1-20
December 24, 2011
For the census, the holy family has to travel eighty-five miles. Joseph walks, while Mary rides sidesaddle on a donkey, feeling every jolt, every rut, every rock in the road. Just last Sunday we heard the angel Gabriel’s dramatic announcement of God’s favor, but for Mary that was nine months ago. You can almost hear Mary thinking to herself –the angel said the child would be great. The angel said he will be called “the Son of the Most High.” God will give him “the throne of his ancestor David” (Luke 1:32-33). Didn’t she have the right to expect something a little better?
Once they finally arrive in Bethlehem there will be no room for them at the inn. A barn will have to suffice. It’s a disquieting place for a woman in the throes of childbirth—far from home; far from family; far from what she had expected for her first born. Except for Joseph, no one was there the moment Jesus was born to share Mary’s pain—or her joy. As we all know, this story only gets worse from here. Soon there will be violence, betrayal, more suffering, the cross and a humiliating crucifixion.
It’s strange when you think of it, how soft and saccharine our celebration of Christmas has become. How many of us could endure what Mary went through and not feel we’ve been cursed rather than blessed? Yet here’s the wonder of the incarnation. We are assured that God’s grace is alive and at work even when we have nothing to show for it. God is with you.
Christmas has never been about the lights we light, the decorations we make, the gifts we give, or anything we do to attempt to make things perfect. It’s about the wonder and mystery of God’s light already within all people, all places, all things—no matter how lowly, desperate, or forlorn they may seem. This is the true source of Christmas joy –the surprise at discovering the fullness of the presence of God that is always already pleased to dwell within each moment of our lives.
It’s a surprise. It’s always a surprise. No matter how often we might have heard the Christmas story or been taught what God is like, our joy upon encounter with the divine is like finding buried treasure hidden in a field. (Matthew 13:44). God who is the source of Christmas joy, is with us at all times and places. Every day, any month, no matter the season can be Christmas. But in my experience, Christmas usually comes when we least expect it—like this past Wednesday in a below average nursing home on Ridge Ave. just north of Devon.
I was on a mission to deliver a tin of home baked Christmas cookies some of you helped to pack a few weeks ago. It was shortly past noon. I signed in and went to find the recipient of our small gift. Mary—not her real name—suffers from intense anxiety and depression. She has lived in this particular nursing home for more than a decade despite the fact that she is only now approaching retirement age. There are times when Mary doesn’t come out of her room for days or even weeks at a time. I got to Mary’s room, knocked on the door and was surprised to see she wasn’t there. A couple of the residents asked me ‘who was I looking for?’ Oh, Mary –they all knew Mary. She was probably downstairs having lunch, they told me.
Residents and staff ushered me into the dining room. There were no Christmas decorations, no holiday music playing, just the harsh bright fluorescent light typical of our modern caring institutions. There sat Mary, seated by herself at a small table waiting for the food to arrive. I laid the small tin on the table beside her and sat down. At least Mary would have this small token of Christmas, I thought. Mary greeted me warmly. She gave me a hug and introduced me to all of her friends, who smiled and waved from where they were seated at small separate tables all around her. That was a surprise.
Then Mary began to tell me how thankful she was. She told me how blessed she felt to be so happy. “God takes away some of the anger and the hurt when you get older” she said. Rather than bitterness about her lot in life, she was thankful for having a place to live. She spoke well of all the care she has received, about the staff, and at length about a spotted cat that lives in the building. Mary has the honor to feed the cat from time to time.
Mary was thankful too, for the cookies, as were all her friends who laughed at the thought of sharing them with her. After lunch, we went to Mary’s room, prayed and shared Holy Communion with one of Mary’s friends. I went to bring Mary some Christmas cheer. Instead I was reminded of the true meaning of Christmas and of the power of grace, love and good friends to transform the cold confines of any dwelling, no matter how humble, into a warm and inviting home. I left that place, much as the shepherds had after visiting the manger in Bethlehem. I returned glorifying and praising God for all I had heard and seen, as it has been told to me (Luke 2:20).
And so now it has again been told to you. Christmas is not made, it is found. It may take us by surprise, but it is not scarce. In fact, one of the greatest obstacles to Christmas today may be our own sentimentality. Christmas becomes the work of our own hands, something we take ownership and pride in creating. But compared to real Christmas, the Christmas of our own creation is just so much plastic wrap and tinsel. It’s all posturing and packaging. It exists only on the surface—as if our deepest hurts and longings could be erased by covering them in bright patterned paper bound up in scotch tape.
The true gift of Christmas is new eyes, new ears, new lives. To open the gift of Christmas is to accept a new way of living complete with a new way of seeing, hearing, thinking and acting. God’s gift to you this Christmas, and every Christmas, is an invitation to tear off the paper veneer in order to get beneath the surface of things.
The true light that shatters the darkness of human hearts has come into the world and such unblinking honesty can be terrifying. Yet, as the angels told the shepherds of old, “Do not be afraid; for see—[God is] bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (Luke 2: 10-11). God is with you. God is for you. The light of God will lead you to newness of life. The radiance of God will show you the power and mystery that is hidden and at play all around you. Through the ages Christians have claimed Christmas means that God in Christ was reconciling the cosmos to himself (2 Corinthians 5:19).
This gift of God, God’s Christmas gift, the mysterious power of the incarnation is poured out for you today and everyday in the sacrament of baptism and in bread and wine at the table of our Lord. In fact, the word from which the name for Jesus’ birth place –the manger—is derived, comes from the French word, manger, which means ‘to eat’. Jesus was laid in a feeding trough. When we gather at this Table, we partake in the life of Christ –the body and the blood of the Still Living God. As we conclude communion tonight, I invite you to take the promise of the words we sing home with you. Let them give you comfort and courage in God’s grace even when you have nothing to show for it. “If in your heart you make a manger for his birth, then God will once again become a child on earth.”(Ana Hernandez, If in Your Heart)