Christmas Eve: We Tell This Story

Scripture Reading                                Luke 2:1-14               

 

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place in the guest room.

 

Now in that same region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
    and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”

Meditation

Every Christmas Eve, we gather together

in this beautiful sanctuary,

to tell the same story,

the story of a couple traveling so that some ruler can be sure to get their hands on everyone’s taxes.

The story of a baby born, and then laid in a manger, a feedbox for animals.

The story of a sky exploding with light and song and angels.

The story of the first witnesses—the shepherds, the ones to whom the angels entrusted this incredible good news.[i]

 

It’s the shepherds who have my attention this year.

Did you know that most of the shepherds in the Middle East, then and now, were women?

AND, did you know that one of the most important jobs of shepherds is their role as protector.

That shepherd’s staff isn’t just for show.

As I mentioned to our young disciples, the staff can be used to gently guide the sheep where you want them to go.

But the staff is also a weapon—one that shepherds would be able to wield with strength and grace—kind of like, Gabrielle, on Xena Warrior Princess.

Remember Gabrielle and her staff?

 

In certain ways, shepherd were outcasts—their religious standing wasn’t great.

That’s because they were constantly in contact with animals,

they were usually not able to go to the Temple, for example,

because they couldn’t really comply with the restrictions around cleanliness. 

 

But to wonder why on earth (and in heaven) did that singing army of angels bring the good news to these lowly people?—well, that attitude causes us to miss something incredibly important about shepherds.

 

They did an important job. They were loved by their communities.

 

The Bible Jesus grew up learning was filled with stories about shepherds.

 

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—the three great patriarchs of the Old Testament—and, I’m going to have to assume, their wives—were all shepherds. It was the life-calling of Abraham and his ancestors, as well as his children.

 

The Bible Jesus knew was filled with allusions to good leaders being compared to shepherds. David, the greatest king of Israel, began life as a shepherd of sheep.

But when he was anointed king, the people said,

“Now, you will be our shepherd, shepherd over Israel.”

 

And it was David who composed one of our most beloved psalms:

 

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
   He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
   he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
    for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
    I fear no evil,
for you are with me;
    your rod and your staff,
    they comfort me.

 

And, of course, that baby who has been born, and laid in a manger?

He will be known as “the Good Shepherd”

for the way he loves and cares for his people—which is to say, all people.

 

Shepherds did an important job. Shepherds were loved.

If you think about it, shepherds were exactly the right people to receive the great good news of the angels.

 

So—God sent the army of angels to shepherds—specifically, shepherds in a field, watching over their flocks.

 

Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 

 

I’m never quite sure what that word, “glory,” means. In one sense, it’s about honor, it’s about someone’s stature, their presence. But here it also is talking about a very specific kind of light—the light of what Jews call the “Shekinah,” the brilliant presence of God, Godself. There is an angel, but the angel is surrounded by this brilliantly lit aura that is the presence of God—you could see it.

 

Of course the shepherds are terrified. This is no mere mountain lion. This is the presence of the Most High.

 

But the angel has good news for the shepherds:

 

Don’t be afraid, the angel says,

I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.

 

For ALL the people.

 

To you is born this day in the city of David—that’s Bethlehem—a Savior,

who is the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One, the Lord.

 

And this will be the sign, the angel says: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.

 

Someone had a baby, and they swaddled them up old-school style, bands of cloth to keep that cozy, in-the-womb feeling.

 

Which, to put it bluntly, is just about the most common thing in the world.

A newborn baby.

It happens every day, specifically, about 385,000 times a day,

according to the United Nations.

I mean, it’s really exciting when it’s your family, your baby. But this is just a baby whose parents are in town for the census, taxes and such.

 

But this is also the most stunning thing God has ever done:

Come to us, come to earth, as that most common of occurrences, a newborn baby. Someone I read this week called it the “cosmic significance of the mundane.”

God chose to open the door, as our dear friend said last week, right in this pulpit,

the door that we could never open ourselves,

and the result of that is God’s love made visible in a tiny, vulnerable human being

who also happens to carry the presence of God right into our everyday lives.

Emmanuel: God With Us.

Was there ever better news for our worn, tired hearts than this?

That God chooses to make sure we are never alone again,

but comes to be among us. To be with us.

 

Every Christmas Eve, we gather together

in this same beautiful sanctuary,

to tell the same story.

The plot never changes.

There are never any surprise twists.

So why do we do it?

Why do we keep telling this same story?

We tell this story

because our hearts need to hear it.[ii]

Our hearts need to hear that regular people saw the very glittering presence of God,

and heard the angel army sing in chorus.

Our hearts need to hear that the power of God is not in brute force, but in vulnerability.

Our hearts need to hear that God’s love is not permanently estranged from us

in some far-off heaven,

but is as near as the most mundane, every day-everywhere event.

In people going about their jobs,

whether they are shepherds, or baristas, or brain surgeons.

In the touch of friendship—a hand held, a shoulder squeezed,

In the curve of our arms as we cradle a baby… or maybe a puppy.

In a texted conversation between friends, or a beloved voice on the phone.

In the act of communal singing, lifting our voices together to raise a beloved carol.

In sitting down to a table—any table—and breaking bread—any bread.

Our hearts need to be reminded, every year at least—

but hopefully more often than that—

that God’s love is from everlasting to everlasting,

and it is here, now, among us.

And that will never change.

 

Thanks be to God. Amen.

 


[i] Meditation opening inspired by and adapted from Rev. Sarah Are, “Words for Worship for Advent-Epiphany,” From Generation to Generation, Copyright A Sanctified Art.

[ii] Ibid.