“Christmas Comes” by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood – December
24, 2012
Sermon Text: Luke 2: 1-20
“In those
days, a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be
taxed.”
In these
days, a decree comes from the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles reminding me
that I should renew my license plates for another year. Dutifully, I attempt to
log on to the BMV website to pay to have the privilege of legally driving my
car for another year. Of course, I only do this once a year and I always forget
my login credentials.[1] After about
thirty minutes of trying to figure the system out, I sigh. It probably would
have been easier to just write a check and stick it in the mail. Maybe next
year I'll remember my login. Better yet, maybe next year I'll remember to just
get out an envelope and a stamp.
After the
license plate renewal, there are other things to tend to – other bills to pay,
Christmas presents to wrap, lunches to pack for school, an e-mail to a friend
who is having a difficult week, library books to be found and put in the car
for their safe return, a kitchen table still messy with the remnants of dinner.
Tasks finally
completed, I drag my weary soul up to bed and I notice the lights on our
Christmas tree.
We have
them on a timer so we don’t have to worry about turning them on and off. But, I
think to myself, maybe next year we’ll skip the timer. Maybe I’d like to have
the task of turning them on and off. Maybe if I took the time to take care of
the tree, I would notice it more. Or maybe it would just turn into another
thing on a very long to do list.
I wonder
if Mary and Joseph knew their firstborn son was almost ready to make his debut
when they were dragging their weary souls to Bethlehem. I wonder if they were
expecting the Advent of Christ when all they were doing was following the
rules, going to Bethlehem to pay their taxes.
There is a
beautiful children’s picture book called The
Nativity. It has the King James text of Luke’s gospel set to sweet
illustrations by Julie Vivas. In it, the Angel Gabriel wears floppy, untied
combat books which I find endearing. But one of my favorite things is this: the
Angel Gabriel comes to Mary for the Annunciation of Christ while she is
standing outside hanging her laundry out to dry.
Just going
through her to do list. Checking things off. Probably thinking about all the
tasks she needs to get done before lunch. When, BAM! Out of nowhere, an angel.
I don’t
know about you, but I could really use an angel or two intruding on my life
right now. Boots or bare feet – I’m not picky. But I could really use a break
from the hum drum monotony of days that all seem to have to do lists that never
get completed.
The things
that do seem to break through and shake me to my core are tidings of bad news,
not good. A world filled with violence. Friends struggling with life-altering
illnesses and events. The death of a longtime church member. News of
politicians who can’t seem to get along to save their lives. And, in the last
week, argument upon argument about gun control. Speculation about the best ways
to save our society from the wrath of ourselves. All of this and it’s 50
degrees outside one day and then thundersnowing the next which makes me weary
as I remember all the damage we are doing to our earthly home each day.
Send me an
angel, Lord. I need someone to break through the bad news. I need tidings of
comfort and great joy.
And then,
earlier this week, in a twenty-minute phone call with a friend, the angel
showed up.
I was
worrying aloud that I’d never find time to get ready for Christmas. We’ve been
dealing with sickness upon sickness in our household lately – which is just par
for the course with two children under the age of three, I suppose – leaving us
all exhausted. I admitted to my friend that I wasn’t feeling very Christmassy
this year and was really struggling to get my head in the game for Christmas
week.
I don’t
know if she was wearing floppy old work boots, but she was definitely carrying
tidings of comfort and joy when she gently reminded me, “Sounds like you’ve
already found some good news to share on Christmas Eve.”
Incredulous
that she could find any good news in my whining and moaning, I said, “Good
news? What?”
And she
said, “The good news is that Jesus is born again each Christmas, whether we are
ready or not.”
And there
it is. Christmas comes – ready or not.
We who
languish in to do lists that never seem to end will see the dawn of Christ. We
who spend too much time absorbing horrific images on the news will see the
reign of God birthed in a stable. We who feel like we’re on a freight train
barreling towards some unknown destination will find ourselves stopped in our
tracks by this Christmas.
An angel
comes to us and says, “Behold, you will find him lying in a manger.” And
suddenly the sanctuary will be filled with a multitude of the heavenly host
singing, “Glory to God in the highest! And on earth, peace.”
Ready or
not, Christmas is here.
The to do
lists will need to be turned over and saved for another day because God comes in the form of an infant
child. A nobody born to nobodies in a noplace. Born to a couple of kids who
weren’t even married yet, traveling to Bethlehem to file some paperwork with
the government. Going through the motions. Caught by surprise when the time for
the birth drew near. And then suddenly, Emmanuel. God with us. Ready or not,
Christmas is here.
The bad
news of our world will be drowned out by the Good News of our God.
Perhaps
Max Lucado said it best last week when he wrote a prayer in response to the
violence in Connecticut. Lucado prayed, “Your world seems a bit darker this Christmas. But
you were born in the dark, right? You came at night. The shepherds were
nightshift workers. The Wise Men followed a star. Your first cries were heard
in the shadows. To see your face, Mary and Joseph needed a candle flame. It was
dark. Dark with Herod's jealousy. Dark with Roman oppression. Dark with
poverty. Dark with violence.”
Mary and
Joseph knew a few things about darkness and violence. The shepherds were no
stranger to oppression and fear. And yet, in the midst of a time of great fear
and anxiety, God showed up.
And God
bless those shepherds – they paid attention. Just doing their stuff, watching
sheep, and when an angel came with life-altering news, they paid attention.
They packed up their gear and took off to Bethlehem. Risking ridicule, or at
the very least, a serious waste of gas money, they took a chance to went to see
the thing that had taken place.
They
tuned off the 24-hour-news-cycle and put their attention in another place. They
reminded themselves that their work could wait for a few hours and they took a
break. They paid attention when the angel showed up and they were open to the
Advent of Good News.
Christmas
comes. Ready or not.
Perhaps you
have prepared yourself quite well for this silent night. You’ve lit your Advent
candles. You’ve stilled your heart and made room for the Christ Child to be
born anew in our world. If so? Christmas comes.
Perhaps
you’ve spent the last month partying like crazy. Office parties. Gift
exchanges. Black Friday sales. Christmas trimmings. A beautiful tree. A hearth
decked out with stockings. Christmas cards mailed on time. If so? Christmas
comes.
Perhaps you’ve
done little to prepare yourself. Your life has continued relatively
uninterrupted by the Advent of the Season. You’ve had your nose to the
grindstone – wrapping up tasks at work, caring for those you love, taking
pleasures in the joy of curling up with a book by the fire, planning diligently
for the year ahead. If so? Christmas comes.
Christmas
comes to all because Christ does not need us to be ready.
Just as
God does not need us to invite God into our schools by a schoolwide prayer, God
does not need to be invited into our hearts to be present. God is already fully
present everywhere. Christ is born
again this day and every day, like it or not. There is no way to
“systematically remove” God from anywhere.[2]
There is no way to deny the reality of Christ in our midst. It just is.
Christmas
comes no matter what. It’s up to us how to respond. Mary could have simply
laughed at that Angel in funny-looking boots when he interrupted her laundry
day. But she didn’t.
The
shepherds could have ignored the angel who interrupted their work in the
fields. They could have written him off as a hallucination. But they didn’t.
And we
get to choose, too. The to lists will always be there. The bad news will
probably never stop screaming at us from our TVs, our computers, our
smartphones. We can ignore the Advent of Christ. We can turn our attention to
other places because there will always be things ready and willing to drown out
the faint flutter of an angel’s wings.
This is
the part of the sermon where you’re expecting me to tell you to stop what
you’re doing and pay attention. This is where I’m supposed to tell us to all
just quiet ourselves for just one night and really focus on the Birth of
Christ.
And I suppose I could do that. I could.
But for
tonight, I am just going to rest in this good news instead: Christmas comes, no
matter what we do or don’t do.
There is
nothing we can do to negate the arrival of God in our lives. There is nothing
we can do to shut God out of anyplace. There is nothing we can do to deny the
reality that God is in our midst. This night and every night.
Christmas
comes.
[1] After I
published this sermon, I received a very helpful and friendly e-mail from Dennis
L. Rosebrough, Deputy Commisioner for External Affairs for the Indiana BMW. He
told me that you can actually log on without having to remember your password.
There’s a big red button on the homepage! I just didn’t see it. Now I know for
next year! Additionally, when I originally delivered this sermon, I made a
comment about having to pay an online convenience fee. I must have confused the
BMV process with some other online process, because Mr. Rosebrough tells me
there is no online convenience fee. I apologize for my mistake.
[2] Mike
Huckabee said this week that the shootings in Connecticut happened because we
have “systematically removed” God from our schools. If you have not yet read
Rachel Held Evans’ recent blog post in response to what Mike Huckabee said, you
must. http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/god-kept-out
1 comment:
Perfectly phrased, dear Caela. Thank you, I needed that♥
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