Isaiah 9:2-7 Luke 2:1-20
Tis is the time of year for – well – all sorts of wonderful things that only show up around Christmas. When I was young, eons ago, along with visits to Santa, scrambling to get gifts, and making all sorts of preparations, there was a tradition on television. For several weeks before Christmas day, the same holiday movies would be played over and over again.
There were several staples, among them “Going My Way”, The “Bells of St. Mary’s”, and “The Bishop’s Wife”, starring such notables as Bing Crosby and Ingrid Bergman, Cary Grant, David Niven, and Loretta Young. The senior folks here will recognize their names, because they were huge stars in their day, and for you younger folks, think Chris Hemsworth and Taylor Swift – that kind of famous.
A few weeks ago, I was surprised and delighted to come upon a channel showing “The Bishop’s Wife”, and last Sunday, in a nod to the holiday, the other two films were shown back-to-back on TCM. But overall, the old movies don’t get as much air time as they used to when my parents were alive. One reason for that is – they’re the product of another era – but there’s a second reason – they are all in black and white.
The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.
Once again, we have come to the end of the darkness of Advent, the time during which we contemplate the balance in our bank account, and try to figure out who gets what, and how many cards we need to send. Possibly we have also given a nod to thinking about our unworthiness to receive the gift of the Christ Child, which is what the Church calls us to do during the Advent season. But all that is over now!
For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.
At last – we have entered the season of joy. Are we joyful? Many of us are sort of joyful, but also worn out. We are tired, trying to relax and at the same time figure out how to celebrate tomorrow and have a wonderful day. Why are we not – well – totally joyful? And the answer would have to be, you cannot expect to be totally joyful unless you choose to be. Really? And how is that done?
First, we really need to remember that Christmas is not an event, not a church service, not a set of familiar carols or decorations of red and green nor a jolly man in a red suit with eight tiny reindeer. Christmas is not an occasion or a party or a festival. It is not time off from work nor a family gathering. All of these things are connected to Christmas, but none of them actually is Christmas.
Christmas has a much deeper meaning. Christmas is personal to each and every one of us gathered here and for all people in the world, because Christmas is a personal choice.
So much goes on in our daily lives, especially as we prepare for this wonderful day, and because there is so much going on, we arrive at the manger worn out, stressed out. We like to think that we choose what to do with our time, but there’s that old saying, “life happens when you’re making other plans”, and all of us can attest to that being true. There’s so much we can’t control, and which we don’t choose, that by the time we get to Christmas, we’re pretty well worn out. And we aren’t alone in this.
Mary didn’t have a choice about being on the road when she went into labor. Joseph had to register for the census and that meant traveling from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Joseph didn’t have a choice about the fact that this child was not biologically his own. Neither of them had a choice about the fact that Jesus would be born in a stable, because there was no room at the inn.
They were made vulnerable by their circumstances: vulnerable to gossip about Jesus’ parentage, vulnerable to physical pain and danger in Mary’s case, vulnerable to a feeling of failing to provide for his family in Joseph’s case.
The shepherds didn’t have a choice about being out in the fields with their sheep in the dark and the cold. The sheep needed tending and guarding, and the sheep were the shepherds’ livelihood, their means of economic survival. The shepherds were vulnerable to the weather and the terrain. They also didn’t have a choice about the visiting angels. The heavenly host descended on them out of nowhere, and suddenly Glorias were filling the air. They were terrified, and had no defense against their fear.
Like all of them, we don’t have a choice about a lot of things that happen in our lives. We certainly don’t choose to be so stressed out around the holidays, but it seems to happen anyway. And then comes Christmas, and God gives us a choice.
God asks us, do you want Me in your life? Shall I be born in your heart? Will you willingly become vulnerable to Me, to the work I give, the sacrifices I demand, and the total peace and joy I bring when you are mine? And we hear that last bit, peace and joy, and we all want to shout, “Yes”, but then we have considerations – what sort of work, what sort of sacrifices, how much, when?
We are afraid. We don’t want to be surprised by too much work or too much suffering or – well – anything unpleasant. We don’t want to look foolish or become in any way vulnerable. We will not be left unaware. We will not be caught off guard.
And how does God respond to our defensiveness and fear?
God gives Himself to us in the most vulnerable form possible: a fragile human baby.
How could we respond with anything but joy?
It ought to be so easy, but we are the ones who stand in the way of the pure peace and joy of this holy birth, because we are unwilling to tear down our walls, drop our defenses and – well – become totally vulnerable to the One who for us came down and lived among us, totally vulnerable for our sake.
But we can become vulnerable to Him if we choose to do so, because that tiny baby will grow up, and from Him we receive the grace to be the vulnerable, open-hearted people He calls us to be.
For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation.
There’s another movie that this year seemed to be all over the cable movie channels – played repeatedly for weeks. It was the 1939 version of “The Wizard of Oz”. It, too, begins as a black and white film, coloured in sepia, tones of brown. And it struck me that Dorothy didn’t choose to be hurled around, house and all, by a tornado, nor to be terrified by the witch. Not only that, when the house landed, she could have stayed huddled inside, protected by those familiar four walls. But she then had a choice. She bravely chose to walk through the doorway into a world of colour and light, where she and her friends learned you can see things differently and become who you truly are.
And here is the great Good News for us, Jesus isn’t the product of another time. He isn’t a movie, or a fantasy. Jesus is real, and we have a choice. It is Christmas, and “Lo He comes with clouds descending, born to set His people [us] free”. We can choose to stay safe within the walls we have set up to protect ourselves, or become vulnerable, open our hearts to Him, and let in the light and peace, and joy born to us this Christmas day!
Merry Christmas!
Let us pray:
O God, you have caused this holy night to shine with the brightness of the true Light: Grant that we, who have known the mystery of that Light on earth, may in time also enjoy Him perfectly in heaven; where with You and the Holy Spirit He lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.
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