Sermon ~ 12/24/2012 ~ Christmas Eve ~ What Does This Mean?

12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 1 ~ Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14, (15-20).

12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 2 ~ Isaiah 62:6-12; Psalm 97; Titus 3:4-7; Luke 2:(1-7), 8-20.

12/24/2012 - 12/25/2010 ~ Nativity of the Lord - Proper 3 ~ Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98; Hebrews 1:1-4, (5-12); John 1:1-14.

What Does This Mean?

“...Mary treasured all these things and pondered on them, reflected on them in her heart.” — Luke 2:19.

    It was late in the afternoon of a sunny, spring day that Mary set out walking, climbing the hill. [1]  The wind was steady and a little cool.  But it was a light wind.
    Flowers had started to work their magic.  There was a blaze of color on the hillside.  She was sure when she and her husband had come down that same hillside into town, into Bethlehem, just five days ago those flowers had not yet bloomed.
    Was not this same hill simply a field of mud then?  The pallet of color on display now made her wonder if she had ever before seen such an array of nature, had ever before seen such an display of beauty created by God.
    She reached the top of the hill and sat down amidst the colors.  She had made the climb because needed some time alone.  She needed to process what had happened.  And she trusted Joseph to stay with and to care for the baby, even though the infant was not yet three days old.
    She had been present when other children were born.  She was there when her cousin, Elizabeth, gave birth to John.  That was hard.  Elizabeth was not young and the birth was difficult.
    The birth of this child, her child, her first, whom she named Yeshua— Jesus in the Greek— surprised her in part because it was not hard.  On the other hand, the baby seemed to have colic that first evening and constantly cried the whole night.  She got no sleep.  Joseph got no sleep.
    But she also looked on the bright side of things.  She and Joseph had been lucky.  While there was no room at the place they wanted to stay, the lodging did have a barn they could use.
    Joseph, her husband, was inventive and handy.  He found fresh straw in the loft, not soiled like a lot of what you would find in a barn.  He pulled the hay down.  He arranged it carefully.  It was soft.  It provided some warmth.  It was just right.
    The bed of straw was just right even for a newborn child who cried the whole night long.  She did not know what to make of this crying that first night but suddenly, as the dawn approached, the crying ceased and the child rested.  But the whole time those strange shepherds were there, Yeshua did cry.  (Slight pause.)
    Maybe it was not the shepherds, themselves, who were strange.  Maybe what had happened to them and what they said was strange.  What they said was one of the reasons she needed time alone, needed time to think, needed time to process.
    The shepherds talked about light shining all around them in the dark.  They said they heard a voice.  They thought it had been an encounter with an angel.
    This tale might not make sense to some people.  But it made sense to Mary.
    After all, she knew about angels.  She had spoken with one.  Her cousin Elizabeth had spoken with one.  Angel— the word means messenger from God— angel, angels were real.  She knew that.
    Based on what the shepherds said, the message sent by God through an angel was simple and direct: in the City of David, In Bethlehem, the Messiah had been born.  And so these young shepherds— she thought not a one of them was over twelve— these shepherds came looking for an infant, a newborn and found that infant in a stable.  They found Joseph.  They found Mary.  All that left a question on her heart: what does this mean?
    When the angel spoke to Mary, the word Messiah was never used.  But, when Mary visited Elizabeth, her cousin did make that claim: Mary was to be the mother of the Messiah.
    And that left a question on her heart: what does this mean?  And so, the question churned within her and she purposefully wandered up the hillside to think, to ponder, to be alone.  She felt a need to pray.  (Slight pause.)
    For some reason, as she sat on the ground surrounded by flowers, her thoughts drifted back several years to the Rabbi she knew in the town in which she was raised.  She once asked the Rabbi when the Messiah might come.
    The response was, at one the same time, reassuring and ambiguous.  “The Messiah, the Messiah,” he said, “shall come.  The prophet Isaiah says the Messiah will come as a child.  That seems obvious.  Everyone needs to be born.”
    “And when the Messiah comes, it will be a time of great anguish, great darkness for the people.  But the Messiah shall bring peace.”
    “Well, we might as well be enslaved right now,” said Mary.  “The occupying Army of Rome walks our streets daily.  They arrest whomever they want whenever they want.”
    “They crucify whomever they want whenever they want. They kill people who have done nothing.  Perhaps the time for the Messiah is now.”
    He seemed to put her off, as if she was being frivolous.  “Yes, my child— the Messiah may well come and bring peace in our lifetime.”  (Slight pause.)
    “Messiah,” she thought to herself.  “Elizabeth said it.  The shepherds claimed the angels said it.  No.  Unlikely.  Yet what the Rabbi said was true: everyone needs to be born, even a Messiah.”  (Slight pause.)
    Mary stood.  Night was fast approaching and she needed to be back down the hill, back with her child, back with her husband.  She looked at the flowers surrounding her.  She looked at the sky.  The light was fading but the sky was still blue.
    She thought back to the time the angel spoke with her.  She realized that when she said, “Let it be done to me as you say” she had surrendered her heart.
    And maybe that was what the Messiah was really about: surrendering your heart to God.  Then she realized something she had not thought about in months.
    The angel told her what name she was to give the child.  Yeshua— a name which means God saves, a name which means deliverance.
    She had not remember this instruction from the angel until that very moment.  And yet, she had done it.  She had named the child Yeshua— God saves, deliverance.
    What did this mean?  Did this mean the child was to be the Messiah of God?  She did not know the answer.
    As Mary walked down the hill she kept thinking about it.  The words of Isaiah came back to her: “The people who walked in darkness / have seen a great light; / upon those who lived in a land of deep shadows— / on them light is shining. / For a child is born to us, / an heir given to us;...”
    Once back in the barn she took the child from Joseph and held it tenderly.  She looked into the baby’s eyes.  She saw... love.  “Messiah?” she thought.  “I don’t know.
    But I do know God loves this child.  God loves me.  God love all people.  Perhaps this child, my child— Yeshua— God saves, deliverance— perhaps this child will be the one.”  Amen.

12/24/2012, Christmas Eve
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction.  This is an précis of what was said: “I have often said Christmas is the most important Christian feast on the secular calendar.  At the very least for we Christians Easter, Pentecost, the Epiphany and Trinity Sunday should be counted as more important than Christmas.  Which is not to say Christmas lacks importance. It is to say we need to reclaim Christmas as a Christian feast.  In an effort to reclaim real Christmas, let me make a suggestion, one I make each year.  Please do not wish people a ‘Merry Christmas.’  When you greet someone say ‘Happy Christmas.’  People can be merry about the new year, but let’s be happy about what we celebrate tonight: the birth of the Messiah, present in our midst.”

BENEDICTION: Hear now this blessing from the words of the Prophet Isaiah in the 60th chapter (Isaiah 60:19-20a): The sun shall no longer be / your light by day, / nor for brightness shall the moon / give you light by night; / for Yahweh, God, will be your everlasting light, / and your glory. / Amen.

[1]  This was stated at the beginning of the service (as it is every year): “Many scholars think Jesus was born in what we would call the year Four Before the Common Era, or Four, B.C.E., in the Springtime of that year.”