Sermon

Christmas Eve

December 24, 2007

Chronia Polla to Chris, Christina, Emmanuel

 

Have you ever imagined what it might have been like to be one of the figures in the Christmas story?  Can you imagine what it might have been like to be one of the shepherds?  Sitting outside on a cold night, watching over sheep, hoping no wolves would come and attack them, shivering and waiting for the light of the sun to come and warm you up?  To be a social outcast, away from the busy Bethlehem social scene, perhaps no one even interested in counting you for the census being taken—that’s how unimportant the shepherds were on the social level.  And all of a sudden, the sky becomes bright, it is full of angels, not 30 of them, as we have in our choir, but 30,000 of them, the multitude of the heavenly host, singing and announcing the birth of Jesus.  And you are wondering, what on earth are they talking about?  You begin to understand a little bit, you are curious, but still wonder, why me?  I’m just a shepherd.  Do I dare go to Bethlehem and see what I am hearing about?  Will I be welcome there?  How do I know that the new-born baby Jesus wants to have anything to do with me, a simple shepherd?

 

Can you imagine what it must have been like to be one of the three wise men?  Educated, in the ruling class, a king, looked up to and adored, revered, perhaps even feared by others.  And to look up in the sky one night and see a bright star, and be moved to leave everything you have, everything you know and to follow.  To follow for two years.  Can you imagine the moments of doubt?  There are millions of stars up there, how do I know I’m following the right one?  If this is really some kind of cosmic event I am to be a part of, why is the journey taking two long years?  And after two years of a long and weary journey, is there any bit of disappointment that the prize is a baby, rather than a new kingdom?  How ironic that three men to whom people bowed down to, bow down themselves to worship a baby.

 

The Christian life is a lot like the experiences of the shepherds and the wise men that first Christmas.  Just as the wise men perhaps wondered, am I really following the right star, as Christians, how many of us have wondered, am I really following the right faith?  As the shepherds wondered what was the meaning of the message of the angels, how many of us have wondered, what does this all mean-—the church, the Liturgy, Holy Communion.  What trust the wise men must have had, to follow, almost blindly as it were, for they knew not where the journey would end, they only trusted that they would be reward at its completion.  And the shepherds—of all the people to reveal the message of Christ’s birth, they were the blessed hearers of the good news precisely because they were the only ones who were ready to listen.  It would have been impossible to hear the hymn of the angels over the rush of people on the streets of Bethlehem.  Just like it’s impossible to sing God’s praises or feel the warmth of His love when we are constantly being over-stimulated with our cell phones, computers and I-pods.

Being a Christian is a lot like being a shepherd or a wise man.  Because God came for everyone, from the mighty ruler to the social outcast, from the one who is praised by many to the one who is scorned by all.  God came for each and every one of us.  That’s why at the Great Entrance, when the Gifts of God to us are taken around the church, it is with the prayer that God remember ALL of us in His Kingdom.  God’s message to us is one of hope—anyone can find salvation in God.  God is the God of everyone.  The shepherds and the wise men give us lessons in how to find God.  From the shepherds, we learn the virtues of stillness and vigilance.  This morning, some of you came for the Vesperal Liturgy, a quiet and peaceful and reflective service.  And earlier this evening, some of you came before the service began and sat in the church in the quietness and stillness and prayed.  Prayer is so much easier when you remove distractions and temptations, when you seek to truly be alone with God.  Then prayer is beautiful and timeless, comforting and reassuring.  There is a saying that it is darkest before the dawn.  The light of Christ shows itself at its brightest when it is dark and still. 

 

From the wisemen, we learn patience and trust.  For the Christian journey is a lot like the journey of the magi.  There are lots of mountains and valleys to be crossed, lots of deserts to be survived, lots of doubts to be conquered.  But the journey is a lot easier if we are keeping our eyes on the prize.  If we keep our eyes on the Lord as they kept their eyes on the star.  And when the star came to rest over the place where the child was with Mary His mother, the magi fell down and worshipped Him, they were exceedingly joyful.  No longer did they see themselves as high and mighty rulers, but as true servants of God, who fell at His feet and said, “God, I am nothing without You” and opened to Him their treasures.  And as Christians, when we come to the point where church is more than a place to go once in a while, when we come to believe that Holy Communion is an encounter with the living God and not just a ritual we do out of habit, and when we fall down before God and confess, “I am nothing without You,” then we will know how it feels not just to be a servant of God, but a child of God.  As we heard in the Epistle this evening, through Christ, God has adopted us as His own sons and daughters, and if we are His children, then we shall be heirs to all of God’s promises.

 

As I get older, it is getting harder to be a Christian.  We take things that were once so sacred and innocent and we cheapen them. In our children, we foster a sense of competition—we push them to have the best grades, the best clothes, the best toys, the latest gadgets.  We live vicariously through them.  How many Dads push their sons to be athletic maniacs?  And we forget that our children are gifts from God, that they are precious, not just fun, that they are created in the image and likeness of God, they are not just to be molded into our image and likeness.  How about ourselves?  We pride ourselves on our talents and we often forget that the gifts we each have are first gifts from God—we’re reminded of that every time we celebrate the Liturgy and hear the words, “We offer to You these gifts, from Your own gifts,”  “Thine own of thine own.”  For we have nothing really to offer God which He did not first bless us with.  And how about Christmas?  A feast of gifts, decorations, running around, spending money we don’t have, getting totally stressed out, and then it comes to church and we say, “Just the same old Liturgy, the same Christmas story we heard last year.”  In the services of the past few days, I have read the Christmas story several times, and each time I do, I have to fight back tears because that’s how much the story moves me.  I love the services of our church—I spent almost all day today in the church, praying, worshipping, and just sitting and taking it all in.  That’s how much I love the church, that’s how important it is in my life.  Not only can I not imagine Christmas without Christ and the Church, I can’t imagine even a week in my life with them.  And Christmas is not just the same old thing each year, but an opportunity to proclaim again with joy, the great news that “God became a man, so that man can become like God.”  Every Liturgy is like a little Christmas, there is a celebration, we get a gift—Holy Communion.

 

In the hymns of the Vespers of Christmas, which we celebrated this morning, one of the hymns we sang included the following words:  “O Christ, what shall we offer You since you appeared on earth as a man for our sake?  Every creature made by You offers You thanks.  The angels offer a hymn; the heavens, a star; the Wise Men, their gifts; the shepherds, their wonder; the earth, its cave; the wilderness, a manger; and we offer a Virgin Mother.  O Pre-Eternal God, have mercy on us.”  And in the hours since that Liturgy, as I have been thinking and praying, I keep coming back to the same thought—What gift do I bring to the manger this Christmas?  What can I give to the Lord this Christmas?  What is it that I can give that will bring me closer to the Lord than I am today?  What is it that will make this Christmas night not just another yearly ritual, but truly be a night that will springboard me, so to speak, to an even closer relationship with God.  In my heart, I know the answers—I know that there are things that I can do in my life to bring me closer to God.  I know I can give more time, I know I can give more effort, I know I can be more patient.  I know I can be a better neighbor, a better friend, a better husband, a better father, better priest.  As we sit for a few more moments in this beautiful house of God, ask yourself the same question—What gift do you bring to the manger this year?  What gift of yourself can you offer to Christ?

 

I was talking to someone recently about Christ, someone who doesn’t come to church often, and telling them why God is important and why they should come to church more often.  And when I finished the conversation, I felt like a salesman, like I am selling a commodity.  Maybe some people look at God or salvation like a product for sale, the church is the mall, the priest is the slick salesman, and when we’ve gotten enough God to keep us going for a while, we go home and come back in a few weeks or a few months to do some more shopping.  And as I was thinking about Christ as a commodity, I started thinking about the Wise Men and their long journey—Can you imagine how many times they stopped on their journey to purchase supplies or to rest for the night, how many people must have asked them, “Where are you going?”  The Christmas story doesn’t indicate that these men picked up any followers—but it didn’t deter them in their journey.  Perhaps when questioned, they said, “We are so excited, you should come with us, only to be disappointed no one was interested.  Or perhaps they said, “We can’t explain exactly what we are doing, but we believe that it is right and good and true, and so we go, we forge ahead, without complete knowledge of where we are going, but with complete faith that this journey will be worth it in the end. 

 

And so as we mark another Christmas, one gift I am going to give to Christ is focus on being the best Christian I can be, and be less the salesman.  God’s word is truth, and anyone who spends any time reading it, God will speak to them, they will know it is truth.  The church is not an organization to which we belong, it’s not a club of people who share the same culture, but it is like the cave of Bethlehem—the place where all the parts of the creation come to worship the Creator—The saints, the angels, and the people.  We offer incense, the smell of heaven.  We offer hymns—as do the angels around God’s throne.  And we do something that even the angels cannot do, we touch God through Holy Communion.  Each time we prepare properly to receive Communion, when we fast, when we pray, when we worship and when we receive, God touches each of us in a surreal and miraculous way.  And so, as you sit in the church for a few more minutes this evening, as the choir sings some Christmas carols, as you drive home on this starry night, and as you wake up to another Christmas tomorrow, ask yourself, “What gift can I give to Christ this Christmas?”’  What about my life can I change in order to get it closer to Christ?  How can I be more trusting like the Magi?  How can I be more patient like the shepherds?  How can I glorify God like the angels?  And how can I allow God to come and take His residence in me as did the Virgin Mary?  Does your heart resemble the busy streets of Bethlehem, with no room at the inn?  Or does it represent the cave, ready to hold the Un-Created God?  For those who I see often in this church, I pray that God will bring you even more inspiration this Christmas, to continue to carry His cross with hope, with patience, with joy.  And for those who I do not see often in this church, I pray that God will bring you motivation to change that.  No sermon, no service is going to change that until you sit quietly with God and you resolve to change that—and then the services and the sermons will bring encouragement.  The motivation must come from within, as it did for the Shepherds, as it did with the Magi.

 

I thank God for bringing me with joy to see another Christmas, to read the Christmas Gospel about Mary’s First-born Son, that I have a first-born son sleeping at home tonight, and that I many spiritual children worshipping God together, communing together, rejoicing together.  May God bring us with joy and health to celebrate many more Christmases together. 

Christ is born!  Glorify Him! 

Christ is come from Heaven, receive Him.

Christ is on earth, be exalted.

All the earth sing to the Lord,

And all the people praise Him in joy.

For He has been glorified.

Merry Christmas!