On Christmas Morning

I would be remiss if I were to talk about Christmas without mentioning the red bicycle. The red bicycle was a Schwinn with 20 inch tires, the kind of bicycle that was soon to be in high demand for converting into a stingray with a banana seat and butterfly handlebars. At the time I had not ridden a bicycle and so pretty promptly my older brother was riding it around and around the driveway, but I did learn with some help and training wheels. That was one of the great Christmas presents. There were certainly others that at the time were more highly valued, but that was one of the most challenging, even daunting, to absorb.

Of course, the most daunting Christmas gift to absorb is the one we are all given this morning as we are every Christmas morning and that is the birth of Christ.

This morning, with the help of Linus and the Peanuts gang, we are reminded of the words we have just heard that we will hear again whenever we open the king James Bible, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, and listen to the words from the gospel of Luke chapter 2, that introduce us to the introduction of our savior into the world.

As Leo Tolstoy put it when describing another mother giving birth, this is the world's most solemn mystery now unfolding: when Mary, the mother of Jesus, in an unexpected accommodation, is giving birth to her firstborn son. 

Soon, according to some accounts, there would be a lot more of a fuss, but at the time, shepherds aside, and them the least of these the children of men, there was not much of a celebration. There was not much to mark this birth out from the birth of any other child.

His parents had some mysterious stories to be told, both by Joseph and by Mary,  and so did her cousin Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah. 

I don’t think the stories had spread very widely by the time. This little child was born in Bethlehem, the city of David, a city, small yet not least among the cities of Judah, for in it was born this child who was to be king of the Jews and crucified as such.

I hope that isn’t jumping ahead too far in our story— it certainly isn’t jumping to the end, which is yet to be told or known or experienced.

And so we have the story which tells itself in our hearts, but also bears repeating for every Christmas and beyond.

Some people call the Episcopal Church a Christmas church because our emphasis is so much on the Incarnation; more than on the crucifixion which some Roman Catholics may be accused of dwelling upon too much, or on the resurrection and Easter, which are often the province of other denominations more inclined to look beyond Good Friday to the happy ending of the resurrection.

But we know the happy ending was there at the beginning, not just the "in the beginning God created the heaven and the earth" beginning, but the "in the beginning was the Word" beginning.

For Jesus, this little child, in whom the fullness of God was pleased to dwell comes for us, the fullest expression of God, of God’s will, of God’s grace, of God’s presence, of God’s love. that we can imagine or experience in our lives.

This child, yes, born 2000 and more years ago on the far side of the world in a small town, somehow becomes present to us and brings present to us the love of God, and that is what we celebrate today.

Merry Christmas.

​​ 

• Isaiah 9:2-7

• Titus 2:11-14

• Luke 2:1-14(15-20)

• Psalm 96

https://lectionarypage.net/YearABC_RCL/Christmas/ChrsDay1_RCL.html

https://ctktucson.org/

"The world's most solemn mystery was now being slowly enacted." 

[Sounds like the Nativity... it's from "War and Peace", as Andrei's wife gives birth. (Vol. 2, Part 1, Ch. 8.)]

hope beyond hope

 A long time ago a friend of mine from the church we attended in Manhattan, St Clement's off Broadway, developed a one-man show he called The Reverend Billy Show. It later developed into a full choir revival tour style revue, in which his character, cracked street preacher Reverend Billy, would deliver two or three raving sermons - that were actually pretty good. 

But at first it was a one man show with just his character, Reverend Billy, in a clerical dicky, a white suit, fabulous hair, a bull horn, and an imaginary online congregation. He would stand at the pulpit and rave about commercialism, egregious bombing of innocents, and other apparently Quixotic concerns of the time. And he had a creed, which we repeated: 

We believe in the god that people that don't believe in god believe in. Chant that.

Reverend Billy's creed came to mind as Sarah and I read about mid-century German theologians, including Karl Barth and Paul Tillich, and especially Dietrich Bonhoeffer. 

At that time the world was plunging into despair, desperation, cynicism: no hope. There was no hope, but as some of those brave theologians put it, there was hope beyond hope. Beyond despair. 

It sounds absurd. But this is a time when absurdities are not unfamiliar, either. Hope beyond hope.

The times of the mid-twentieth century in places like Germany were times of extreme, of government unleashed upon the innocent, of babies born in the face of fear. Of families torn apart by arbitrary detention. Of executions personally authorized by the head of state. Of exile. Of famine. Of despair.

And of hope beyond hope.

The Blessed Virgin Mary, her cousin Elizabeth, her husband-to-be Joseph, and the children that came to them, lived also in a time of uncertainty, despair, and precarious hope. 

The world hinged upon a word. "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb," the angel greeted Mary. She could have said no. Angels held their breath. And then she said, "yes."

Yes, to the improbably babyish salvation of the world. An innocent, among many born that year, was to survive the massacre of its age-mates - ordered by the king - and become ... the hope of the world.

It seems impossible but it was so. Is so. In the small room at the back of a home in Bethlehem, and in the small home the family returned to in Nazareth - but not yet - a child arrived, was welcomed, and grew. 

But not yet: first the child and his parents fled by night from Palestine through Gaza into Egypt, there to remain until the implacable search blew over and it appeared to be safe to return home. 

We here may not know, or may not have known, what it meant to be nearly hopeless, in a village surrounded by an imperial enemy, with disciplined troops nearby, always vigilant for signs of resistance.

We may know, through our own experience or that of family members or refugees we have encountered, or aid workers we have known, just exactly what that was like.

There is fear. But there is always hope. There is darkness. And-- there is light. 

And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not - cannot - put it out. For in him was life, and this life is the light of all people. Merry Christmas, once again. 

December 29, 2024. Lessons & Carols. Episcopal Church of Saint Matthew, Tucson. 8 & 10:30am

Christmas

One Christmas I got something unexpected in the mail – a shoebox, for women’s pumps, black, size 7-1/2 B.

Inside the box were three half-pound packages of coffee from Old Bisbee Roasters.

There was also a Christmas card. The outside had a cartoon of a little boy, presumably in a Christmas pageant, with a blanket on his head. It was captioned “What Christmas is really about.” Linus, Charlie Brown’s little brother, was reciting from the 2nd chapter of the Gospel of Luke:

“And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them… And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us." So they went with haste…

The shepherds are not passive viewers; they take an active part in the story. And this is their action moment, when they speak, “Let us go down to Bethlehem…” and move toward the promised Child.

What did they go into the City of David to see?

Was the Child a nascent hero, like Hercules? Children’s books say that when Hercules was a baby he was already a superhero. He strangled snakes in his cradle. And who knows what he got up to when he began to walk – but:

The Christ Child was not Superbaby—he was a real baby. He was vulnerable and soft. His surroundings, warm and fragrant from the animals, were none of his choosing. He was dependent on those around him. Joseph and Mary looked after him. But as we know from the story of the shepherds, he was already drawing toward him those who sought the peace of God.

There in the City of David the Shepherd-king of old, not in a wayfarer’s inn but in a stable, there the King of all shepherds in a manger lay, offering himself as manna, bread of heaven, bread in the wilderness, bread of life – offering himself in obedience and offering that obedience as savior of all; and offering that obedience, to all, as the way that salvation led.

He was the promised Child, the shepherd-king of Isaiah 40:

“Comfort, oh comfort My people, Says your God….

“Like a shepherd He pastures His flock: He gathers the lambs in His arms

And carries them in His bosom; Gently He drives the mother sheep.”

(Isaiah 40:1,11 JPS)

Long ago and far, far away another shepherd abiding in the fields was keeping watch over the flocks by night: Cuthbert, a young man of 9th century Northumbria in northern England. He used to sing the psalms to the sheep at night.

And then one night, at the age of eighteen, he had a vision, or perhaps a dream, and the next morning he went over the hills to Melrose Abbey, where he became a monk. The story goes that that was the very night when Aidan, founder of Lindisfarne Priory on Holy Island, had died.

After some years as a monk, Cuthbert was sent to take Aidan’s place. And so he traveled, on what pilgrims now call Cuthbert’s Way, over the hills again, to Holy Island. There he found behind the priory a beach and across a small inlet of the North Sea a very small rocky islet. At night when the tide was low he would wade out to it, gaze back across the water to the priory where the monks were sleeping, and as they slept he would sing the psalms. “Like a shepherd he pastures his flock…”

The call to Melrose Abbey and the call to the priory on Lindisfarne were moments of decision for Cuthbert. He took action, and got involved in the story. He became a shepherd of men. In doing so, he recalled to mind the Lord that he served – that we serve: Jesus, the Good Shepherd.

The same Lord calls each of us – from field or from home – to come witness the coming of the Christ Child, to adore him, to receive him into our hearts, to share in his life – the fulfillment of the promise of ages – and to bring to the world hope and peace, joy and love, justice and mercy.

The shepherds of Bethlehem went over the hills and into town to see if Jesus really was the Messiah they’d been waiting for. And they found him:

The Shepherd King,

Who calls each of us by name,

Who watches over his flock,

And sings to them of Paradise.

JRL+ 

"Being called to action," an edited version of this meditation, was printed in the Arizona Daily Star, in the Keeping the Faith feature of the Home + Life section, on Sunday 31 December 2023, page E3... and posted on their website under the heading, "Being called to action by the Lord" (https://tucson.com/life-entertainment/local/faith-values/being-called-to-action-by-the-lord/article_fc6a6ec8-a413-11ee-84b2-033d49e48be7.html).

Christmas Letter 2012

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.  

Luke 2:11

A town torn by war. Occupied for much of its history by one power or another, contending for hegemony over the nearby city, the "key to peace". Loud reverberations shock the streets and squares of the town. Rubble falls from buildings. Daily disaster - catastrophe imminent - and yet: daily prayer, for an immanent God. In the midst of it a cradle, improvised from a feed trough.

And in the manger-turned-crib, a baby. The warring sides are silent. For one night peace reigns.

For one small family, a few herdsmen, and some wandering stargazers, this quiet moment is filled with a strange and holy awe.

For unto them - and unto you - is born, this silent night, in the little town of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.

And so eternal light comes into the world. And brings with it good news - a future with hope.

The new possibility opened to us by this little baby's birth is overwhelming in scope and significance.

All the world is to be saved through ... this simple gift, this quiet offering, this one small child.

Come with us to remember this special night, and, remembering, to make it real in our own lives.

Come to church this Christmas eve. Let the carols and candlelight guide your way.

And let your communion with us and with all Christians this good night be a sign of hope to you - and of a future filled with grace.

Amen. Alleluia.

~ ~ ~

We will begin celebrating Christmas together at five o'clock on Christmas Eve.

Yes! there will be CAROLING
Yes! there will be COMMUNION
Yes! there will be CANDLELIGHT

We are looking forward to our community joining together in the celebration of the Nativity of our Lord.

The evening service in the sanctuary will conclude with "Silent Night" sung by candlelight.

If there are carols left to be sung or wassail yet to be toasted, we may stick around for a little while...

The next service will be on the morning of Christmas Day at 10:30am - a quiet Communion.

JRL+

December 2012

St. Alban's Episcopal Church
21405 - 82nd Place West

Edmonds, WA  98026
http://stalbansedmonds.org/
425-778-0371

one night

If you would be a Christian, be as the Shepherds were;

following their calling faithfully,

until called to a higher purpose

one night

they became apostles, prophets, saints, martyrs,

witnesses to the wonder of the coming of the One true God,

maker of all things,

come to dwell among us, men and women and girl and boy:

for us and for our salvation,

that the life we live now,

we live not by our own lights,

but by him who is Light—

the light of the world,

and through living in Him,

shepherd or saints or both at once,

we might bring that light to our corner of the world

and glory to God in the highest heaven.

Christmas 2009

There in their little corner, there were
no angels, no kings, no sign—
as yet…

There was only—
a baby.

They had wrapped him in bands of cloth, as any baby would be, and then they did something unusual, something that would stand out in a crowd: they laid him in a manger, a feeding-trough.

There was no room for a woman with a newborn child up in the house where the guests gathered, so there they were in the quiet place, the hidden place.

Maybe the animals were gone, and it had been cleared out and cleaned. They were in the only space left – cave or stable – for this little family on this special night.

And so it was there that the shepherds found them.

Shepherds, men or women and children, crowded into the room,
not high society,
not fancy people,
ordinary folk,
who kept watch over a flock by night,
who came with an extraordinary story

of
what they had heard

that they would find in the City of David

a baby
wrapped in swaddling clothes
and
lying in a manger

what they had heard
they now saw

and so they believed
and told
what else they had heard

that this baby
born to this girl and her chosen husband
was to inherit the throne of David his ancestor

to become

all the things promised by the prophet Isaiah – wonderful counselor, mighty God, everlasting Father, prince of peace—

and more

to become Savior, Messiah, Lord.

he was born

and Caesar Augustus and Quirinius the governor of Syria
and Herod and all his children
…their day was passing, was spent, was gone…

a new—the real—power in the world
Son of God, Savior, Prince of Peace
anointed One, Lord and Father

was neither the emperor nor his servant,
not the king or his minion

but this

this
defenseless,
innocent,
little family

bore in its midst a power
greater than all the powers that the world knows

Among these people was born a king not like the ones the world knew but one who would bring God’s own kingdom into being

beginning here, in a manger,
in a little town,
among people unknown to the greater world

a man
his bride
their child

and
shepherds

Shepherds— who had brought them for the first time from outside their kin some confirmation of the promises, the extraordinary news, that they had been hearing – and cherishing in their hearts –

Zechariah in the Temple, struck dumb as he stammered out his momentary disbelief, –

Elizabeth greeting her cousin Mary: “Blessed are you!” –

Elizabeth’s son in the womb greeting Mary’s newly conceived child with a leap for joy, –

Mary receiving an angel’s visit: “Let it be to me according to your word”, –

Joseph in a dream, hearing God’s command and God’s assurance –

and so they believed
something else would be coming true—

the extraordinary series of promises sung in the Christmas Canticles,

the Song of Zechariah, the Benedictus,

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; *
he has come to his people and set them free.
He has raised up for us a mighty savior, *
born of the house of his servant David.

the Song of Mary, the Magnificat,

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; *
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.

the song of the Heavenly Host, the Gloria in excelsis,

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

(as when he was old enough to be presented in the Temple they would receive the greetings of Anna the prophetess, and Simeon, with his Song, the Nunc Dimittis, “... these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, *
whom you have prepared for all the world to see: …”)

they began to know the light
that was coming into the world

they began to know the peace
that was coming into the world

announced in these songs
as sure
so sure
that it is reported as a done deal—

God has done these things; you can count on it.

Into this world has come its light, its salvation, its redeemer,
the one who will bring the creation to completion,
who will bring all travail to its close,
who will bear in himself, on the cross, the sins of the world,
the one whose resurrection and ascension is the vindication of the world,
the one who establishes righteousness, who brings peace,
who calls us
out of error into truth,
out of sin into righteousness, out of death into life,

who calls us into a new relationship with God,
who proclaims a new hope for the world,
borne with him on Christmas,
and renewed tonight, this Christmastide,
as together we sing his praise.

Alone among religions, in Christ God comes to us in this person, committed to this actuality, in this place at this time, incarnate, particular, involved – made real in a real place.

Here and here only, in this little one we welcome tonight, the fullness of God is pleased to dwell.

God is really present in Jesus, realized in this person at this time, and so committed to human salvation, that the word becomes flesh, and dwelling among us, redeems the time, and renews the creation.

The incarnation – the Nativity – is a fresh creative act of God himself.

So we are called into being in a new way, as new people,
refreshed, renewed, and ready
to embody
and to carry forth in ourselves,
the holy mission of Christ, the one who is alive and active,
creating, redeeming, making holy,
the son of God,
firstborn of Mary,
the source of our salvation,
the foundation of our righteousness,
the fount of all grace,
the home-source of our peace, and the future of our hope.

As Lesslie Newbigin writes,

This, then, the ‘flesh’ of Jesus, the concrete humanity of a man of a certain time and place, is the actual presence of the Word through whom all things were made, who was from the beginning with God, who was and is God.

this is the one

the one

we have seen and heard and touched and held in our arms, as John the evangelist says,

and so we have seen what could not be seen,
heard what could not be imagined, and
become acquainted with the secret beyond the skies –

the presence of God among us, Christ with us,
the hope of glory and the assurance of peace.

Come, Lord Jesus,
come to us as you came of old,
into this world bring your light,
into our future bring your hope,
into our lives bring your call –
that we may be your people and know you,
Our God.

Amen.


+

The Song of Mary Magnificat

Luke 1:46-55

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; *
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed: *
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him *
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm, *
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, *
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, *
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel, *
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
The promise he made to our fathers, *
to Abraham and his children for ever.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.



The Song of Zechariah Benedictus Dominus Deus

Luke 1: 68-79

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; *
he has come to his people and set them free.
He has raised up for us a mighty savior, *
born of the house of his servant David.
Through his holy prophets he promised of old,
that he would save us from our enemies, *
from the hands of all who hate us.
He promised to show mercy to our fathers *
and to remember his holy covenant.
This was the oath he swore to our father Abraham, *
to set us free from the hands of our enemies,
Free to worship him without fear, *
holy and righteous in his sight
all the days of our life.

You, my child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High, *
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way,
To give his people knowledge of salvation *
by the forgiveness of their sins.
In the tender compassion of our God *
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,
To shine on those who dwell in darkness
and the shadow of death, *
and to guide our feet into the way of peace.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.



The Song of Simeon Nunc dimittis

Luke 2:29-32

Lord, you now have set your servant free *
to go in peace as you have promised;
For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, *
whom you have prepared for all the world to see:
A Light to enlighten the nations, *
and the glory of your people Israel.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.





+

Lesslie Newbigin, The Light Has Come (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1982) 10.

+

in the city of the shepherd-king

One Christmas I got something unexpected in the mail – a shoebox, for women’s pumps, black, size 7-1/2 B.

Inside the box were three half-pound packages of coffee from Old Bisbee Roasters in Arizona.

There was a note, from my friend Colleen. When she bought the coffee for me, as a Christmas gift, she’d told the roaster that I was a minister. So he’d said to make sure to tell me that he ‘wants to have a personal relationship’—with me.

There was also a Christmas card. The outside had a cartoon of a little boy, presumably in a Christmas pageant, with a blanket on his head. It was captioned “What Christmas is really about.” Linus, Charlie Brown’s little brother, was reciting from the 2nd chapter of the Gospel of Luke:

And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them… And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us." So they went with haste…

The shepherds are not passive viewers; they take an active part in the story. And this is their action moment, when they speak, “Let us go down to Bethlehem…” and move toward the promised Child.

What did they go into the City of David to see?

Was the Child a nascent hero, like Hercules? Children’s books say that when Hercules was a baby he was already a super-hero. He strangled snakes in his cradle. And who knows what he got up to when he began to walk – but:

The Christ Child was not Superbaby—he was a real baby. He was vulnerable and soft. His surroundings, warm and fragrant from the animals, were none of his choosing. He was dependent on those around him. Joseph and Mary looked after him. But as we know from the story of the shepherds, he was already drawing toward him those who sought the peace of God.

There in the City of David the Shepherd-king of old, not in a wayfarer’s inn but in a stable, there the King of all shepherds in a manger lay, offering himself as manna, bread of heaven, bread in the wilderness, bread of life – offering himself in obedience and offering that obedience as savior of all; and offering that obedience, to all, as the way that salvation led.

He was the promised Child, the shepherd-king of Isaiah 40:

Comfort, oh comfort My people, Says your God.

Like a shepherd He pastures His flock: He gathers the lambs in His arms

And carries them in His bosom; Gently He drives the mother sheep.

(Isaiah 40:1,11 JPS)

Long ago and far, far away another shepherd abiding in the fields was keeping watch over the flocks by night: Cuthbert, a young man of 9th century Northumbria in northern England. He used to sing the psalms to the sheep at night.

And then one night, at the age of eighteen, he had a vision, or perhaps a dream, and the next morning he went down the hills to Melrose, where he became a monk. The story goes that that was the very night when Aidan, founder of Lindisfarne Priory on Holy Island, had died.

After some years as a monk, Cuthbert was sent to take Aidan’s place. And so he traveled on Cuthbert’s Way, over the hills again, to the Holy Island. There he found behind the priory a beach and across a small inlet of the North Sea a very small rocky islet. At night when the tide was low he would wade out to it, gaze back across the water to the priory where the monks were sleeping, and as they slept he would sing the psalms. “Like a shepherd he pastures his flock…”

The call to Melrose and the call to the priory were moments of decision for Cuthbert. He took action, and got involved in the story. He became a shepherd of men. In doing so, he recalled to mind the Lord that he served – that we serve: Jesus, the Good Shepherd.

The same Lord calls each of us – from field or from home – to come witness the coming of the Christ Child, to adore him, to receive him into our hearts, to share in his life – the obedience, the innocence, the hope – and to bring to the world hope and peace, joy and love, justice and mercy.

The shepherds of Bethlehem went into town to see if Jesus really was the Messiah they’d been waiting for. And they found him:

The Shepherd King,
Who calls each of us by name,
Who watches over his flock,
And sings to them of Paradise.


JRL+

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A Christmas Carol
Christina Rossetti

Before the paling of the stars
Before the winter morn
Before the earliest cockcrow
Jesus Christ was born:
Born in a stable
Cradled in a manger,
In the world His Hands had made
Born a Stranger.

Priest and King lay fast asleep
In Jerusalem,
Young and Old lay fast asleep
In crowded Bethlehem:
Saint and Angel, Ox and Ass
Kept a watch together
Before the Christmas daybreak
In the winter weather.

Jesus on His Mother’s breast
In the stable cold,
Spotless Lamb of God was He,
Shepherd of the Fold:
Let us kneel with Mary Maid
With Joseph bent and hoary
With Saint and Angel, Ox and Ass
To hail the King of Glory.

Christina Rossetti: The Complete Poems (2001) 564-565.

+

In those days...

In those days, Rome was strong, and young in its strength. It had a ruler so powerful he was called a living God, king of kings, and prince of peace. He was called the Emperor Augustus, and he was Emperor of all the world we knew.

His Legions, each five thousand strong, tramped the straight roads of empire, leveling high places and raising the low before them, arrow-straight through the heart of the nations, ruling them all and binding them all, in the darkness of imperial power. He closed his fist in his might, his boots trod across the world.

And he made peace: the peace of Rome, the quiet of empire, the velvet night of unchallengeable authority.

There was no questioning who was in charge… of this world that we knew.

Who were we?

We were just ordinary workingmen trying to make a living – shepherds, staying out in the fields all night, tending the sheep, guarding the flock, keeping watch.

We had seen a lot of strange things, at night, out in the fields. We had our share of bear stories, wolf stories; we'd fought lions.

But we had never seen anything like this. Right in the middle of an ordinary night, right in the middle of an ordinary job, something broke through from a realm beyond our sight.

A choir of heavenly messengers filled our eyes. Unto you, they sang - unto you!

Salvation comes, the king is born, and God has fulfilled his promise. Go and see: go into the town and look for a baby, an ordinary baby, all wrapped up and ready for bed, but sleeping in a manger – that's him.

That BABY is God incarnate: a baby lying in a manger, gently breathing, his folks standing by. This is the sign of God that everyone has been waiting for. This is the Messiah, the King of Kings, the Son of David, Christ Almighty – don't you want to tell somebody about it?

We're no angels. We're just shepherds, working the night shift on a far hillside. The mother herself saw no angels tonight, only us -- bringing the message, confirming what she knew in her heart, that today, in the City of David, is born a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.

He had come, the Savior, the Messiah we were looking for – but not as we were looking. He came to us as a helpless infant, a baby: the hope of the world wrapped in swaddling cloths.

And this child, born to marginal people in a marginal town in a marginal province on the distant edge of the greatest empire the world had ever seen, quietly moved to the center of life. Humble and obedient, Joseph and Mary became more exalted than Herod had ever been; and their son, their Son, was in his infancy more powerful – though invisible in his majesty – than any Caesar would ever become.

Somehow, through this child, peace and righteousness and justice began to work their way in the world, the world that – after all – God, not Herod, had made. And into God’s world he sent his own Son, who became for us the Bread of Life.

We were ordinary workingmen, leading a workingman’s life. Into the very fields where the sheep lay came the extraordinary messengers, bearing glad tidings.

“On earth peace, good will toward men!”

Our lives were changed. Even after, later that night, as we trudged back up the frosty hill-paths to our flocks, we knew that the dawn that was breaking that morning was a new day indeed, for us, for our people, and for the whole world.

How then on an ordinary day are you to recognize the Christ Child? How is he born in your life – in your town?

You go about your business in your ordinary way – and yet: something extraordinary is happening even now, in your heart, in your life, in your will.

Christ is being born. God has sent his Redeemer to you, to establish the way of peace, to bring righteousness and peace to the world he has made, to the person he has made, to you.

Unto you is born this day a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.

What child is this who, laid to rest, on Mary’s lap is sleeping, whom angels greet with anthems sweet while shepherds watch are keeping? This, this, is Christ the King; whom shepherds guard and angels sing: haste, haste, to bring him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary!

JRL+


Fred B. Craddock et al., Preaching through the Christian Year (Trinity Press International)

Herbert O'Driscoll, The Word Today (Anglican Book Centre)

Hugh Keyte & Andrew Parrott, eds., The Shorter New Oxford Book of Carols (Oxford, 1993) No. 53.

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Before the paling of the stars

Notes for a Christmas homily....


This Christmas I got something unexpected in the mail – a shoebox, for women’s pumps, black, size 7-1/2 B. Inside the box were three half-pound packages of Old Bisbee Roasters’ coffee.

There was a note. My friend Colleen made sure to tell me that the roaster ‘wants to have a personal relationship’—with me.

There was also a Christmas card. The outside had a cartoon of a little boy, presumably in a Christmas pageant, with a blanket on his head. It was captioned “What Christmas is really about.” Linus, Charlie Brown’s little brother, was reciting from the 2nd chapter of the Gospel of Luke:

And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them… And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us." So they went with haste…

The shepherds are not passive viewers; they take an active part in the story. And this is their action moment, when they speak, “Let us go down to Bethlehem…” and move toward the promised Child.

What did they go into the City of David to see?

Was the Child a nascent hero, like Hercules? Children’s books say that when Hercules was a baby he was already a super-hero. He strangled snakes in his cradle. And who knows what he got up to when he began to walk – but:

The Christ Child was not Superbaby—he was a real baby. He was vulnerable and soft. His surroundings, warm and fragrant from the animals, were none of his choosing. He was dependent on those around him. Joseph and Mary looked after him. But as we know from the story of the shepherds, he was already drawing toward him those who sought the peace of God. He was the promised Child, the shepherd-king of Isaiah 40:

Comfort, oh comfort My people, Says your God.

Like a shepherd He pastures His flock: He gathers the lambs in His arms
And carries them in His bosom; Gently He drives the mother sheep.
(Isaiah 40:1,11 JPS)

Long ago and far, far away another shepherd abiding in the fields was keeping watch over the flocks by night: Cuthbert, an eighteen-year-old man of 9th century Northumbria. He used to sing the psalms to the sheep at night. And then one night he had a vision, or perhaps a dream, and the next morning he went down the hills to Melrose, where he became a monk. The story goes that that was the very night when Aidan, founder of Lindisfarne Priory on Holy Island, had died.

After some years as a monk, Cuthbert was sent to take Aidan’s place. And so he traveled on Cuthbert’s Way, over the hills again, to the Holy Island. There he found behind the priory a beach and across a small inlet of the North Sea a very small rocky islet. At night when the tide was low he would wade out to it, gaze back across the water to the priory where the monks were sleeping, and as they slept he would sing the psalms. “Like a shepherd he pastures his flock…”

The call to Melrose and the call to the priory were moments of decision for Cuthbert. He took action, and got involved in the story. He became a shepherd of men. In doing so, he recalled to mind the Lord that he served – that we serve: Jesus, the Good Shepherd.

The shepherds of Bethlehem went into town to see if Jesus really was the Messiah they’d been waiting for. And they found him:

The Shepherd King,
Who calls each of us by name,
Who watches over his flock,
And sings to them of Paradise.


A Christmas Carol
CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

Before the paling of the stars
Before the winter morn
Before the earliest cockcrow
Jesus Christ was born:
Born in a stable
Cradled in a manger,
In the world His Hands had made
Born a Stranger.

Priest and King lay fast asleep
In Jerusalem,
Young and Old lay fast asleep
In crowded Bethlehem:
Saint and Angel, Ox and Ass
Kept a watch together
Before the Christmas daybreak
In the winter weather.

Jesus on His Mother’s breast
In the stable cold,
Spotless Lamb of God was He,
Shepherd of the Fold:
Let us kneel with Mary Maid
With Joseph bent and hoary
With Saint and Angel, Ox and Ass
To hail the King of Glory.

Christina Rossetti: The Complete Poems (2001) 564-565.

Christmas Eve 2006 10pm Holy Trinity, Willows
Christmas Day 2006 10am Trinity Cathedral, Sacramento
http://www.trinitycathedral.org/Sermons/20061225jl.mp3

Luke 1:39-49 (50-56)
Luke 2:1-20 The Nativity of Our Lord
John 1:1-14 (15-18)