Good News of Great Joy
Christmas Eve
December 24, 2014
Grace, Mankato, MN
Luke 2.1-20
As we gather to celebrate the birth of Christ, it seems only natural to think of past Christmases. I particularly think about how people engage Christmas differently. For example, my sister was a Nosy Nellie, always trying to figure out her presents, which made disguising them more rewarding when she couldn’t figure them out. My parents were Bean Counters, making sure that they spent the exact amount on each of four children, down to the penny. My bachelor uncle was the resident Scrooge who, when we invited him each year, insisted we not buy him anything. We did, of course, and he grumbled about it, but he came anyway. I think I was—and still am—more of a lurker than a celebrator. Whether my stoicism has been bred into me or any exuberance I might have had has been beat out of me is debatable; it could be a little of both. Either way, I like to sit back and watch the happenings rather than jumping in.
Before I read the nativity story, I asked you to listen for the place or places that you find yourself lingering. So, where is that? Where do you find yourself pausing and pondering, perhaps like Mary did? Did you wonder about the Imperial Roman occupying forces who demanded such and arduous trip for Mary and Joseph, imposing the will of the Empire upon them? Did you think about this young couple and what they were going through having their first baby, especially so far away from family and friends? Perhaps you imagined yourself as a shepherd in the quiet countryside and suddenly having your world rocked. Or maybe you wondered what it would be like standing at the manger, longing to hold the Creator of the Universe in your arms.
Perhaps it is the lurker in me that is being drawn to the shepherds that first Christmas, far away from the action. Of course, in one sense, shepherds didn’t have any choice, because that’s where the sheep are kept. However, aside from the fact that they wouldn’t even have been welcome without the sheep—unclean and unwanted doesn’t begin to describe them—God chooses to break into their isolated existence. And God doesn’t send meek and mild Clarence from “It’s a Wonderful Life”; no, this is a heaven-splitting, earth-shattering army of angels that seeks them out and meets them where they are, in the darkness and isolation.
I don’t think it’s just me, because others have said so, but doesn’t the world seem a bit darker this Christmas? It’s not just the gloomy weather either, though that doesn’t help. Place such as Ferguson, New York City, Syria, North Korea and Afghanistan are not far from our thoughts, not to mention Ebola, domestic violence, sexual assaults, protests and counter protests, and more than I care to say. Even the joy we feel at the birth of a baby tonight is tempered by our real-life experiences. It takes sweat, tears and hard work to bring a baby into this world and even harder work raising them, let alone the dangers that lurk to threaten them. And we also realize that Christmas is not joyful for those undergoing the agony of infertility. Yet it is precisely the birth of this particular baby that we need to remember tonight.
The birth of Jesus is a timely reminder that though the world is dark, the world is not forsaken, let alone God-forsaken. Why does it matter where we are tonight or any night? Because wherever it is, in whatever darkness we find ourselves, Jesus meets us where we are. The shepherds had no expectation of being touched by God that night, but God did; God can and does touch us, too. The good news of great joy is that God shows up where we least expect and always for us. Jesus is not just in a beautiful candlelit church where we sing lovely carols; Jesus is born out there, wherever people need him the most. This good news is not too good to be true; rather, this news is too good not to be true. Jesus is born to us.
Of course, that first Christmas wasn’t the end of the story. For the babe wrapped in cloths and laid in a manger would thirty years later be wrapped in a shroud and laid in a tomb. But we know that wasn’t the end, either. The shepherds will go back to where they came from, but they will not go back to business as usual, for has God met them and in the meeting changed them forever. Where has Jesus met you this past year, perhaps in the darkest times of your life? More importantly, where do you need Jesus to meet you in the year ahead? Wherever you find yourself, whether a Nosy Nellie, Bean Counter, Scrooge, or even Lurker, look for God to break into your world with this good news for you. For to you this day—and every day—God comes to bring light, love and hope to your darkness. Merry Christmas! Amen.
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