The Nativity - Were You There?

Good evening!  At last, after four and a half long weeks of Advent, it is here. The altar and pulpit are hung with white, the colour of joy that surpasses understanding in the glorious mysteries that define us as Christians.  White is the colour of baptism and marriage, the colour of Easter and Christmas.  It signifies the triumph of good over evil and reflects the Light of Christ.

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness--on them light has shined.

This past Sunday, we heard Matthrew explain how the birth of Jesus came to be. Matthew’s Gospel is very concerned with Joseph, with the male line to which Jesus can claim descendance, and so he talks about how Jospeh, whose line he traces back to King David, became Jesus’ Dad. It is Matthew’s proof that Jesus is the Messiah, the rightful King if the Jews.  In this evening’s Gospel, Luke isn’t interested in impressing us with Jesus’ claim to the throne, with His kingship. Luke’s focus is entirely different.

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 

In response to a political dictum, a young couple, the wife heavily pregnant, suddenly finds they have to travel from the comfort of their home, from the support of family and friends, and head off to a city some eighty or ninety miles away.  Mary is so close to term that in this day-and-age her doctor would have a fit, and she would not even consider such a journey.  But it is ancient times, the decree has come from the emperor, and it would be unwise to ignore it

The Holy Family’s journey to Bethlehem, is part of Luke’s proof that Jesus is the Messiah. It is an important journey because of its destination, because of a passage in Micah: But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.” Based on that passage, Jewish tradition said that the Messiah would come from Bethlehem, and so, as Luke’s infancy narrative gets under way, that is where Luke takes the Holy Family.

We’ve all probably seen depictions of the couple as they travel, with Mary riding on a donkey.  While this must have made the journey easier for her, it would certainly not have been very comfortable.  Finally, they reach Bethlehem, and then, after all that travel, they arrive in a city that is probably crowded with people flocking in to obey the emperor’s order.

When we think about it, it is not surprising they find all the rooms at the inn, any inn, are taken. They don’t know anybody, have no family there, no one they can stay with. And then, as they attempt to settle down in a stable, or, as tradition before the 13^th century believed, a cave used to house animals, Mary goes into labour. 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.

Any mother will tell you that giving birth isn’t normally quite that simple. Though the Roman Catholic Church teaches that Mary knew no discomfort in giving birth - other denominations in Christendom, acknowledging that it hurts to have a baby, believe Mary would not have been an exception. But whether there was pain or just a bit of discomfort, it was her time.

“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, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.”

But in the stable, all we see is an exhausted young mother, of about age 15 or 16, an older father, probably in his 20s, and a little baby. This is Luke’s Nativity, so human, so gentle, something to which, minus the stable (or cave) and the animals, we might be able to relate. And then in our Gospel the scene shifts.

God is ready to tell the world that the Lord of Lords has been born. To whom should this Good News be first proclaimed?  The townspeople? The shopkeepers? Perhaps the king in his royal palace?

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.

Say what?  Shepherds? In our society today, because we have come to see all our brothers and sisters as loved by God and to be treated with respect, it is difficult to find an equivalent to the social position and reputation held by those shepherds. They were the lowlifes of that day and age. Talk about the rejected and scorned, no one wanted to know a shepherd except, possibly, another shepherd.  These men were at the bottom of the society of their time, spending their lives following sheep, sleeping rough. Luke’s Gospel focusses on the poor, and lets us know that Jesus has come, not just to royalty, but to, as Mary sang at the Annunciation, the lowly and meek.

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

After the angel reassures the shepherds that they need not fear (though this probably wouldn’t have been much of a comfort to me), comes the glorious announcement. 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.

Then - an amazing thing happens, something that occurs only in Luke’s Gospel. Music! Angels appear and begin to sing!  It doesn’t actually say they were signing, but the tradition over the centuries has been that they were. 

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying [or singing], "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"  There is music throughout all of Luke’s Gospel, most likely music that he heard sung by the early Church, and only in his Gospel has this music been recorded for us – saved - and in part because of this, we carry on the Church’s centuries old musical tradition, in our joyful hymns and anthems, and in glorious oratorios.

And then, just like that, the angel and the heavenly host are gone.  Having been told where to find the Child, the Messiah, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.”  And that is, of course, what they did.

Where do we fit into this story?   Perhaps we, like the Holy Family, are travelers.  Certainly, we travel through each year of our lives to arrive, every December, at the holy crib, to be part of the birth of the Holy Child. That sounds feasible.  But then, are we, perhaps, already in Bethlehem, shopkeepers, and residents, leading comfortable lives? Perhaps not, as that could easily mean we are asleep in our beds, that we are missing everything.

It could be we are the Innkeeper. We can see the need, the poor girl is heavily pregnant, but we just don’t have room in the main house.  We care, but best to shunt them to our stable, where we may or may not remember to check in on them later.

Are we the animals? The animals are innocent.  We are not innocent. So, we are not among them.

The shepherds?  They are awake, and like us, they are sinners – and, amazingly, they are the ones to whom God sends His angels to proclaim the Holy Birth.

The angles? Sometimes, when we sing with all our heart to our Lord, we may just be able to hear that heavenly choir joining us, though we are certainly not angels ourselves.

If we are honest, at different times in our daily lives we may fit into almost any of the groups presented to us in Luke’s Nativity narrative. But right now, this moment, we are, each of us, a child of God, waiting for something amazing to happen. On that first Christmas, heaven came to earth, eternal and unconditional and Love was born as a baby among us. No matter in which group we find ourselves during the week, which is a thought to be pondered, tonight, each of us is a friend of the gentle new mother. Each of us is a servant to the tiny baby. Each of us is a worshipper at Incarnation, at the birth of the Son of God.

Let us pray:

Lord Jesus, let us kneel before the wonder of Your Glory made manifest; to be made one with Your lowliness, one with Your obedience, one with Your majesty of love, in a union with You, that by Your grace shall know no separation unto the ages of ages.  We ask for Your Love and tender mercy’s sake.  Amen.