Isaiah 9:2, Luke 2:1-14
Dorinda or someone with the childlike confidence of Linus or the reassuring authority of
our moms and little ones in our annual Christmas pageant – we love to hear the story of
the nativity of Jesus!
For those who are young, it is only second nature to hear a story so beloved and say,
“Again! Read it again, Dad!” For those of us who have grown up or grown old or at least
think that we may have somehow accidentally done either of those without meaning to,
this story – the story of the birth of Jesus – brings us back to our natural state of wonder
like no other story ever will.
Some will hear it and think, like the Grinch, “Maybe there is something more to the
meaning of Christmas that I have not heard before.” Some of us may think we already
know the meaning of Christmas pretty well, but we still need the feeling of reassurance
that the story brings. Maybe we just need the anchoring of it all – the centering,
grounding force of the story of the birth of Jesus in a world that seems to want to tear
itself apart over things that will not matter in another year or two or ten or 50.
Still, we tell the story of the nativity of Jesus, because this story matters. It matters to
us. It matters to the world, and I dare say that it matters to God that we tell the story of
the birth of Jesus. It matters that we tell the story and that we light candles for hope,
peace, joy, love, and finally for the Advent of The Christ. Some of you probably heard
that in the lighting of the Advent Wreath and might have thought, “Wait. Isn’t Advent
over? It’s Christmas Eve!”
Well, sort of. Advent means “coming”, but it also means “arriving.” The Advent of Christ
means that we remember that The Christ – God’s anointed, chosen one – has come into
the world to reveal what it is like to know God and live in God’s love!
That means that when we light these candles and tell this story – all of it, the whole
story – that we are not just talking about something that happened ages ago in
Bethlehem. We are talking about something that is happening right here and right now!
The push and pull of political leaders and power mongers that happened at the time of
the birth of Jesus are still happening today. The rejection of those in need is still
happening today. The presence of God bursting forth, all tender and squalling like a real
baby, is still happening today in the midst of our messy lives!
Oh, thanks be to God that we have the story of the birth of Jesus, complete with Ceasars
and Shepherds and Angels proclaiming the Advent of Christ with voices so powerful that
they rend the sky and so tender that they repair the souls of all who hear and are willing
to say, “let us go and see what this is all about!”
Of course this year we are also encouraged by the idea of planets moving and stars
appearing for wise men and women to follow and find the light of Christ once more. Not
only that, but we have been encouraged by the knowledge that the light we share this
night – literally, the light in each candle here – was lit from a light that was lit from a
light that was lit from a light that spans our Presbytery and originated in Bethlehem in
the Grotto of the Nativity, the place that many believe to be the actual birthplace of
Jesus.
It is this Jesus who called himself, “the truth, the light, and the way,” so whether you are
worshiping with us on this Holy Night in the parking lot or in your home online, it is the
light of the Advent of Christ that we bear together.
This year, perhaps more than most, I am aware of how precious it is to bear a light – as I
have been tending this flame for over a week after receiving it at the Presbytery office in
Baton Rouge. I’ve made special arrangements to travel with it. I’ve gotten up in the
middle of the night to feed it and keep it healthy. I’ve changed it from candle to candle.
Much like caring for a child, I’ve rearranged some of my priorities around its wellbeing.
Unlike a child, but maybe not so much unlike a child, this flame is more than just a
flame. It is something that stands for something greater, and it is something that we
must care for together even as we must care for it on our own.
This light is not just something that we care for, though. It, in its own way, cares for us
as well. In truth, this light bears us as much as we bear it, for this light is “the” light. It is
the light of the love of God. It cannot be extinguished. It can only be revealed, and God
chose to reveal God’s love through the innocence and vulnerability of a child so that we
might know that God has also chosen to be revealed in our brokenness and chaos.
Here’s the good news in all of this – even in a year where we have been limited by
things that we cannot control, by the decisions of others, by a public health crisis that
seems unending – God’s love for you is without end.
That is why, at the close of this terribly difficult year, we come to the table of Christ to
be reminded and reassured of God’s love, and we light candles for hope, peace, joy, and
love; and most especially to celebrate the Advent of Christ!
As we approach this table in faith, I want to encourage you. Caesars are still going to try
to seize power. Hardened hearts are still going to reject those who are vulnerable, but
God is still going to enter in to make all things new! Thanks be to God that we have one
another to bear this light together, as the days grow longer and the darkness fades
while each of us lights little fires everywhere to proclaim the love of God.
At least, that’s my Christmas wish...and I expect it will come true, and all to the glory of
God. Amen!
God. Amen!
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