Merciful God, illumine this night with your
celestial brightness as we gather in joy to sing your praises for your love
made manifest in the Holy Child, Jesus. Amen.
A
very Merry Christmas to each and every one of you. It is so wonderful to have
you here. If you are at St. Luke’s regularly, it is a blessing to celebrate
with you this most holy night. If you are returning home from college or living
in another city, but grew up at St. Luke’s, it is a treat to have you back with
us. If you haven’t been to St. Luke’s since Easter, it is great to see you
again. If you don’t have a church that you would call your “spiritual home,” we
are glad to have you with us this evening and hope to see you again. If you were
dragged here by a family member, I’ll try to keep the sermon short, but
nevertheless, we welcome you. If you’re not sure why you are here, we are
thankful that God brought us together. Whoever you are and wherever you are in
your faith journey – welcome and Merry Christmas.
There
is something special about this night; the majesty of Christmas calls us out
past our bedtimes to sing songs and partake in a holy meal. Tonight is not the
time for a deep exploration of the doctrine of the Incarnation or the Virgin
Birth, we can talk about that another time. Instead, tonight is a time to
praise God. As Luke tells us, praise is what the heavenly host does when they
sing “Glory to God in the highest” and praise is what the shepherds do after
seeing the Christ child. May the first and last words on our lips this most
holy night be that of praise to God.
What
we praise and give thanks for is that Love came down. Our reading from Titus
notes that “when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared,
he saved us, not because of any works or righteousness that we had done, but
according to his mercy.” One theologian has defined mercy as “entering into the
chaos of another.” Mercy is what we proclaim and celebrate this evening – that God
enters into our chaos. This should be clear from the way in which the story
enfolds. God does not come to be with us as a ruler, but an infant. God is born
not in a palace, but in a manger. God is not born to a king and queen, but to
an unmarried peasant couple. God is born not into a time of peace, but a time
of Roman occupation. If that is the chaos which God chooses to enter into, then
we can find comfort in knowing that God, too, will come into our chaos. God’s
light comes into the darkness, and for that we praise God.
Classical
Christian theology claims that “God is love,” and posits that this love has no
boundaries. This love is so expansive, that by necessity, God must be in a relationship
of love. So we profess that God is Trinity; a relationship of love exists even
within God’s very being. But not even God’s infinity can contain this love, and
it spills out into the Creation. On Christmas, we celebrate that God takes on
human form to fully express this love to the world.
It
has been said that people listen to sermons for two reasons: either to learn
something new, or to be reminded of something that they already know. What hope
and pray that you leave this church knowing is that you are loved. Whether this
is news to you or something of which you need a reminder, know that you are
loved. This love is not something that you have earned, and therefore it is not
something that can be taken away. Right now, as you are, God loves you.
Whatever chaos you find yourself in, God loves you. And I don’t mean that God
loves you like God loves every one. No, I mean you. You are unprecedented, unrepeatable,
and irreplaceable and Love came down that you might know it.
The
Gospel of Jesus Christ is about salvation, and more often than not, when Jesus
speaks about salvation, he speaks about what happens during life, not what
happens after it. The Good News of Christmas is that salvation is a gift that
we receive here and now. Despite what the world tells you, you are enough and
you are deserving of love. You don’t need to lose weight first, you don’t need
to drive a newer car, and you don’t need to be perfect. God enters in through
Mary, a young teenage girl; through Joseph, likely an illiterate craftsman;
through dirty shepherds who got stuck working the night shift; through a
vulnerable baby. Notice what this love does though – it doesn’t make Mary into
royalty, it doesn’t make the shepherds rich, it doesn’t take away pain, or
grief, or depression, or addiction, or fear, but this love sticks with you
through all of those things. It has been said that what God offers us is
maximum support with minimum protection.
The
salvation of God is not that God saves us from brokenness, but that God redeems
our brokenness and loves us through it all. The salvation of God is that there
is no war so fierce that there can be no peace; no enemy so fierce that there
can be no friendship; no loneliness so isolating that there can be no companionship;
no pain so severe that there can be no healing; no doubt so certain that there
can be no faith; no injustice so insidious that there can be no reconciliation;
no sin so bad that there can be no forgiveness; no night so dark that there can
be no light; no chaos so bad that God will not enter into it. On Christmas, Love
came down to save us from living without being loved, and so we praise God.
Contrast
this love to the ways in which the world typically operates. “In those days a
decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.”
The world often sees you as a consumer who might buy a product, as a voter who
might cast a ballot, as employee who might build corporate success, as a person
who might disappoint, as a person who might be counted and taxed. Oh, the world
will promise you things – wealth, fame, glory, power. But we know that if we
follow the ways of the emperor that we will be left disappointed, used, and
empty.
There is a great story
from Greek mythology that speaks to this. Sea travelers had to be aware of many
dangers as they sailed. One of these dangers was the Sirens who lived near
Sicily. They were beautiful creatures, part-bird and part-woman. Sailors would
be lured in by their sweet songs and their ships would crash and they would
become the victims of the Sirens. To get
by them on their search for the Golden Fleece, Jason and the Argonauts took
along with them, Orpheus, who was a musical hero in Greek mythology. As they
passed the island of the Sirens, Orpheus began to sing with the most alluring
and beautiful melody that one could ever imagine. Orpheus’ song was so sweet
that it made the song of the Sirens sound like discordant chatter. This allowed
Jason and his crew to sail safely past the Sirens because they did not desire
to go any closer.
This is the song of love that we hear tonight. It is the message of the angels.
The songs of the empire can be comforting and compelling, as was the song of
the Sirens. They can promise a sense of security and wealth, but not the kind
that endures. It can be quite hard to drown out those competing songs, because
they can be rather loud and are heard in most places. But in our journeys, we
have an Orpheus with us in the person of Jesus, a person who sings a different
song – a song of love that will save us from being shipwrecked. Tonight, we
praise God for the song that beckons us toward the salvation of knowing that we
are loved.
Tonight,
enter into the joy of being loved. Don’t worry about defining what joy is, just
enter into it. Know that you are loved. Often in older translations of the
Bible, God’s love was translated as “charity,” and so let us always remember that
as we are loved, we are also vehicles for God’s love to come through us.
May our songs and our
prayers give praise to God on this most holy night. May you know the salvation
of Love coming down on Christmas. May you hear the song of God’s love for you
over the cacophony of chaos. And may you joyfully share this Good News of great
joy with others. Amen.
