Christmas 2020: Christmas Courage

Luke 2:1-20
John 1:1-18
Luke 2:22-40

Dear Partner,

I’m going to offer just a few sentences on each of the three preaching occasions this week – Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the 1st Sunday of Christmas. All are offered in the context of what a different, strange, and difficult Christmas it will be, attended by losses small and large, and yet they are also offered in the confidence that it is still Christmas and there is still much over which to rejoice.

Christmas Eve

While so incredibly familiar to us, Luke’s nativity story has the capacity not just to sound different in light of our present circumstances but also to help us face them. The element of the story I was struck by this year is Luke’s location of the narrative. Not geographic location, mind you, but narrative and global. Luke starts his story, that is, at the center of the known universe, with a decree from the Emperor. It’s a decree that had to be obeyed and was executed by a local governor. These are major players, the movers and shakers of the day, the ones to whose will all things and people bent. Why does Luke start here? Because the story he tells has global significance. But immediately after painting on the broadest of canvases, his focus narrows dramatically, telescoping down to a young couple, absolute nobodies in every possible way, obeying the will of the Emperor whether they want to or not. What is stunning about this juxtaposition is that Luke confesses it is through the latter – the small, seemingly insignificant, and powerless couple – rather than through the Emperor and his Empire – that God will save the world. It is an unexpected inversion of expectations that continues to reverberate through the ages and sets the pattern for how God acts in the world. Few if any remember much about Augustus or Quirinius, yet close to three billion people will celebrate the birth of the child born to Mary and Joseph this week. When circumstances threaten to overwhelm and people can feel like they have little control over their lives, it is perhaps important to remind our folks that God continues to care for the world through the small, easily overlooked gestures of love and fidelity, whether the helping hand of a neighbor, a meal offered with love, the sacrifice of a congregation’s traditions for public safety, or the meager words of the preacher. In all these ways, God is at work, still changing, loving, and blessing the world. And at a time when it feels like so many of the grand gestures of Christmas have been taken away, perhaps we might find both comfort and courage that God is at work in the many, many small gestures we offer.

Christmas Day

John’s hymn to the pre-existent, eternal, and enfleshed Word simultaneously acknowledges the darkness of the world and makes a promise that Jesus, the true light the enlightens everyone, shines on in the darkness and, even more, that the darkness has not overcome it. That is different, take note, than saying that Jesus’ light vanquishes darkness, dispelling it once and forever. That day will come, but it is not yet. Rather, Jesus’ light shines on. Darkness is still there, but it has not – indeed, cannot – overcome the light. We are at a time when it is, I think, so important to acknowledge the darkness of loss, grief, and fear that still permeates our world and lives. No sermon or carol can or should seek to deny that. Rather, we are called to remind our folks that the light of Christ shines on, perhaps never appearing brighter than just now, and will light our way forward. For this is the light that no darkness can overcome.

First Sunday of Christmas

Simeon sings a strange song. After seeing the child that signifies that God has kept God’s long standing promise to Israel, Simeon gives thanks… and then asks to die. Or not so much asks, but is ready. That is, having seen the salvation God has prepared for Israel and all the world, there is nothing left to fear. What comes will come. When we listen to Simeon’s song with care and realize his request, it feels strange to us in part because we so fear limitation, vulnerability and, above all, death. But Simeon reminds us that in the birth of the Christ child, Emmanuel, we have the promise that God is always with us. Moreover, through the ministry of the one this child will become, we see the pattern of God’s intention to love and care for all people. And through his death and resurrection, we discover the lengths to which God will go to tell us we are loved and are reminded that even death is no match for the life and love of God. When we immerse ourselves in this good news we, like Simeon, find that death holds no fear and we are more than sufficient to the challenges of the day.

One last note on these important readings: the things these passages invite – a renewed conviction that God is at work through small gestures, that the light shines on in the darkness, and that God’s promise of salvation enables us to face all things – all these things are so much easier heard and believed in community. While we are used to that community happening through our in-person gatherings, it can also be fostered through a phone call, note, recorded or live-streamed service, and prayer. Things are not as we want, not as they should be, and so many are struggling with challenges and loss that is hard to imagine. Yet Jesus was born to grant us courage and faith sufficient to the day, and we will get through this. And this, Dear Partner, is in no small measure through the fidelity of your ministry and your people. Thank you even more, thank God for you.

Blessed Christmas, Dear Partner, to you and yours and all the people God has entrusted to your care in the name of the One whose birth we celebrate this week.
David