Christmas Eve

Sermon-Year B-Christmas Eve-12-24-08
The Cloud of Unknowing,
"O God, our great companion, lead us ever more deeply into the mystery of your life and ours, that we may be faithful interpreters of that Life to each other, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen."

Kathleen Norris, the famous author, tells a story about a friend of hers. This friend is doing her doctoral thesis on Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. She has been working on this thesis for 10 years and is turning it into a book. This friend has been to Corinth in Greece, owns copies of Corinthians in several languages including Greek, German, and several English translations. In other words, this woman knows the letter to the Corinthians-backwards and forwards. But one day she stopped in a church and listened as they read a passage from the letter-and she began gasping for breath. She had never heard the passage in just that way before-and she was amazed. Because it sounded new to her friend.
How many times have you heard the Christmas story? How many Christmas cards have you read or sent with Christmas pictures on them? At the staff Christmas party we went around the room asking people what was their favorite Christmas movie-there were 12 people present and they named 15 or 16 different movies. How many times in how many ways, over how many years have you heard the Christmas story? When is the last time that you heard it, or saw it, or felt it, and you came away gasping for breath? Amazed at what you saw or heard or felt? How can we hear something over and over and it still has power in our lives?

2The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined.
When you see someone every day, do something every day, feel the same things-every day, we stop appreciating them, we no longer realize what we see, or do, or feel as special. It begins to feel ordinary and common. And then one day, we suddenly wake up and it’s as if we have been asleep for a long time.
It’s as if we see a great light.
These are hard times. It is hard to see light when there is so much gloom, when fear and disappointment seem everywhere. It is hard not to feel discouraged.
In 1861 the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s wife, Fanny, was killed in a terrible fire. He was seriously injured trying to put the fire out (why he is always seen with a beard) She was the love of his life and they had been married 18 years. He was in deep mourning. 2 years later he received word that his oldest son, Charles, was gravely wounded in the Civil War, and was not expected to live. And the next year at Christmas he wrote this poem: I heard the bells on Christmas DayTheir old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeatOf peace on earth, good-will to men!"
But to Longfellow, a man in terrible sorrow, the words were a mockery and travesty. The 6th verse goes like this,
And in despair I bowed my head;"There is no peace on earth," I said:"For hate is strong,And mocks the songOf peace on earth, good-will to men!"
But the bells kept tolling, and Longfellow had to listen to them as deep as his grief was. And finally he wrote this last verse.
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:"God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!The Wrong shall fail,The Right prevail,With peace on earth, good-will to men!"
How hard it is to let the darkness in our lives go. When we’ve been hurt or scarred deeply, when we’ve been down a long time, it is so easy to ignore the bells. How hard it had to be for Mary-so far from home, so alone, so poor and separated from everything that was light and hope-to hold on to the words of the angels: I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.
What do you think Mary, after walking 75 miles, laying in a bar n, having a baby with no epidural, attended only by her husband, was actually thinking- “This is a great joy”?

I like the phrase, “…and Mary pondered these things in her heart…” I’ll bet she did. I’ll bet she had quite a few thoughts for God that weren’t written down.
If we learn anything about Christmas it’s that birth always comes when life is darkest.
Kyle and I were climbing the holy mountain, Croagh Patrick, in northwest Ireland in early August. It was cold and damp, and ver y foggy. And it was a hard steep climb over miles of scree (loose rock). Everyone we talked to kept saying the same thing, “oh, you have about another half hour-and the hard part is just ahead.” And all of a sudden, in the fog, there was the outline of a building up ahead. It was the chapel built on the summit, the place where everyone was supposed to stop and pray after a long tough walk. We stayed there about half an hour, and then the fog cleared, and we could see all the way to the bay a few miles below. And then we knew it was time to start down.
Christmas is about God breaking into our lives when we are least likely to see him, in forms we least expect him, often at times when we least want him. Christmas is about a very bright light shining in our darkness.
About 20 years ago, two Americans were invited by the Russian Department of Education to teach morals and ethics from the Bible in the public schools. They also taught at a large orphanage. In that orphanage there were about 100 boys and girls who had been abandoned or abused.
It was nearing Christmas, and they told the children the story of Joseph and Mary and Jesus and the Angels and Shepherds and the Magi – for the first time. The children and orphanage staff sat in amazement as they listened. After they finished the story, the children were given simple materials so that each child could make his or her own nativity scene (sort of like worship centers). They used three small pieces of cardboard to make a manger. They tore yellow napkins to make straw. Small squares of flannel were used for the baby's blanket. A doll-like baby was cut from tan felt . As the orphans were busy making their nativity scenes, one of the teachers walked among them to see if they needed any help.
All went well until he came to one table where little Misha sat. Misha was about 6 years old and had finished his project. As the teacher looked at the little boy's manger, he was startled to see not one, but two babies in the manger. Quickly, he called for the translator to ask Misha why there were two babies in the manger. Misha crossed his arms in front of him and began to repeat the Christmas story. The teacher was amazed. For such a young boy, who had only heard the Christma s story once, Misha told the story with great care and detail until he came to the part where Mary put the baby Jesus in the manger. Then Misha started to ad-lib. He made up his own ending to the story.
Misha said, "And when Mary laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no mamma and I have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay with him. But I told him I couldn't, because I didn't have a gift to give him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift. I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked Jesus, "If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?" And Jesus told me, "If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody ever gave me." "So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I could stay with him---for always."
Sometimes it’s hard to hear the old familiar tune in a new way. After a million cards and a zillion carols and a thousand movies, and even a hundred sermons, it’s hard to be amazed20and gasping at a story we all know so well. But even if we hear nothing new tonight, nothing fresh, hear this, there is a bright light that shines in our darkness. Especially in the hardest times, especially when we are least ready, especially when we don’t want to let the darkness go, there is a bright light that gives us hope and sets us on our way. There is a light that comes through the fog, a bell that keeps ringing, a story that won’t let us go- and shows us the way.
Let’s see if this is the night you hear the story in such a new way that you’re amazed and gasping. Let’s see if this is the night you see the light shining in your darkness.