Thursday, December 26, 2019

Hold On

As you peer into the cave this night what do you see? Why are you here? What does it mean? As you look into this scene tonight: this isn't a barn no modern stable. It is a gap in the rocks, a cave behind the home of a stranger. The village of Bethlehem is absurdly crowded. This directive from the empire ‘Go to your hometown be counted, but mostly taxed’, it's probably a blessing for this nowheresville; market stands empty; all the rooms rented; extra coins in pockets. Tonight we hear a sacred story we can sing by heart, even the unacquainted. Beyond the ink of the shape of the letters is a white space. It holds the parts of the story, parts the tradition imagines and the parts of the moment that were so every day they weren't worthy of being mentioned.

It's a blip of an ancient town and it is full to the brim. A woman is in the loud process of giving birth. Caring for a woman in labor has almost always been the duty of women. Rest assured, there were unacknowledged women there. And there were other onlookers I imagine. Curious people built for connection and empathy. They heard and they responded. The neighbors who said no when Joseph knocked, but now.... One of the most steadfast rules of righteousness among these people - is hospitality. And you didn't make room, and so in self-judging shame, You go out to find where they landed.

There in that cave, we discover lowlife shepherds Who made it here first. Stinky sheep and grungy people speaking about angels and peace and the redemption of all the world. It is almost morning and you're awake and you're here and you look into this cave - and you wonder: why? This world-changing night it's not glamorous nor cute. It is cold and dirty and guilty while at the same time It is full of love, glowing with redemption declaring a new way for life on Earth. Godly goodness and power is right here in the mess, in the only space it could find In our fractured selfish ways. Here we see that everyday matter can bear God, can welcome God, is one with God. And this child who has been born, this Jesus is born for us - our advocate. What is it he is advocating for? How is he for us?

For me, one of the most potent ways to illustrate the mystery of Christmas is to flip the image. To reverse who holds what. Over by our devotional candles, I have placed a print of an icon that usually resides in my office. The title of the icon is Holy Wisdom. Above fiery and watery chaos a young person emerges from the Sun a person who holds the Earth as we would hold a precious child, but also in a posture that is ready to act - a body in motion. We know it is Christ by the iconography of his halo. The print has grown dark over the years but if you were to look close you might see the scars on his hands. To me the mystery of Christmas means just this - it means both: Mary holding Christ in her hands, and just the same, Jesus holding us in his hands. In both our true brokenness is made clear by our inhospitality to all that God so dearly loves. In both our true possibilities and salvation are also made clear by the deep love and hope that the images together declare. Will we hold every bit of creation as tenderly as Mary holds Our Savior and as Christ holds the world?

If you come here tonight because of a tickle in the back of your mind that there is something more than isolation and anxiety, I'm glad you're here and Christ loves you and welcomes to you. If you come here tonight because someone said you had to, I'm glad you're here and God loves you and welcomes you. If you come here tonight not knowing exactly what we are up to, but it is a tradition that sparks joy in you, I'm glad you're here, and wonder what kind of love the spirit of God is stirring up in you. Whatever reason you are here tonight we welcome you as a beloved child of God.

It is dark, but the dawn of Christmas morning has already shone forth across the earth. Tonight we sit and stand and sing in a quite glorious cave with all who do so now, and in the past, and in the future. As we gather around the Christ child, we also see Jesus the adult who said such wonderful things and did such amazing things that people followed him. Tonight as we peer into the cave at a precious scene we should also be struck by its connection to the cave in which his crucified body will be placed. Tonight as we gather around a desperate woman and a dutiful man with the vulnerable newborn and outcast strangers, we should know that this infant is the One who rose from our death-dealing ways and loves us still. As you go out from this shadowy cave this Christmas night, may the way of Jesus Christ fill your path the light, may it slowly grow and reveal his precious new world in us. Merry Christmas!

December 24, 2019
Christmas Eve Later Service
Christ Church, Ridley Park, Pennsylvania

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