12/24/21 – Holy Presence – Christmas Eve

HOLY PRESENCE

December 24, 2021
Christmas Eve
Isa. 9:2-7; Titus 2:11-14; Lk. 2:1-20
Rev. Denise Clark-Jones

 

Last year, at this time, the anticipation of Christmas was suppressed by the fear of the Covid-19 virus. Vaccines were on the horizon, but there was uncertainty about when they would be available to all. We were “people who walked in darkness” who were hoping to see a great light. For a while, those who were vaccinated felt comfortable going to restaurants, church, and concerts, traveling by planes, trains, and buses; but now the Omicron variant has emerged and the relief of returning to normalcy has been subdued by the need for continued caution. Last Christmas was the first one my husband and I have spent without other family members.

We visited via Zoom, but I so longed for us to be physically present with one another. I didn’t want presents, I wanted the presence, to be with my children and grandchildren in the flesh. Although we cannot be together on Christmas Day, married children create new family circles with which we must share them; hopefully, we will be traveling to get together with our family, but our joy at being all together again hinges on a negative Covid test before each of us travels to the meeting place. The only non-vaccinated family member is 9 months old, and particularly for her sake, we will all be getting tested before and after we travel.

As many of you are also, I am acutely aware of Christmas is all about presence, God’s presence on earth in the human flesh of a newborn baby, whose physical presence on earth demonstrated, not only how to love God, but how to express that love through our love of our neighbors.

When Westminster opened for in-person worship on Palm Sunday of 2021, the joy and excitement were palpable. The restraint of not being able to hug or shake hands was so difficult. At first, singing was tenuous, but by now we have learned that it is possible to sing with our masks on. The choir has been a role model in that they have been singing with KN95 masks since the lockdown when they were singing to an empty sanctuary with only me and Elder Larry Hicks, who has served faithfully as our in-house IT expert and video producer. If the Westminster Window had a year-end cover “Person of the Year,” I would nominate Larry. Without his being here for every service, we would not have been able to have worship services during the lockdown. Even now, with the internet, we have many more people worshiping with us thru the internet than we had in person before Covid. The church has had to learn how to be present in a new way.

The times we are living in now have been termed, the Age of Post-Christendom. With fewer people attending church regularly or at all, some are questioning the viability of the Church. To be the body of Christ in the world, we must be present in worship, in fellowship, and most of all, in our daily lives in the ways we live out our faith for the sake of others in our community, our country, and God’s world. In a world that is plagued by human greed, tribalism, and violence, people will always need spiritual and physical healing and renewal. The challenge for the church now is to promote and nurture active, rather than passive, presence in its worship and mission, regardless of if it is in person or, quasi- in person, through the internet.

Tonight, we celebrate that God chose to be present, in the flesh with us. God came not with the great fanfare of military parades, celebrity public appearances, or a grand display of wealth, such as the blast off of a rocket ship. Our mysterious God, the bible tells us, has a penchant for turning our expectations and assumptions upside down. Christianity is unique in its worship of a God, who entered the world in a most vulnerable being to be physically present with humanity to share our human life.

In Luke’s gospel, only shepherds were called to visit the newborn king. Shepherds were about as low on the ladder of success as a man could get in that society. Signs in public places warned “No shepherds allowed.” The Jewish people, occupied by the Roman Empire in the province of Judea, hoped for a Messiah that would defeat the Romans and restore the nation of Israel to its former strength and prosperity known during the time of the kings of Israel, most notably, King David. The census, which forced Mary and Joseph to leave Nazareth and come to Bethlehem, was used for taxation and drafting men into military service for the preservation and expansion of the Roman Empire. If only the Messiah would come and save them from the Romans!

What God gave them was a human infant, born of a poor, young girl in the humblest of surroundings, in a small village called Bethlehem, meaning “House of Bread.” One could describe it as a Jewish ghetto. Jesus was born in a manger, with only the poor and powerless earthly parents and shepherds in attendance. Shepherds were about as low on the social and economic ladder of success as one could get. The message sent is that there is nothing so lowly and secular that cannot be holy. As God’s children, we are vessels of holiness, called to see the holiness in others and the rest of God’s creation.

This infant, born of Mary, was the Messiah, but not the one the people were expecting. The holy infant grew up to become a peacemaker rather than a warrior, a preacher who proclaimed God’s justice rather than national vengeance, a teacher who taught love rather than domination. Jesus the Christ, after the emperor Caesar Augustine and the provincial King Herod, who tried to have the infant Jesus killed, were long in the grave, still here with us, continuing to bring us closer to the ultimate and eternal kingdom of God on earth.

According to Luke’s gospel, the world-changing event was heralded by a great light in the dark night which appeared to a group of lowly shepherds. Accompanying the light in the sky was a company of angels, God’s messengers. Of course, the shepherds were afraid, but they were assured:

“Do not be afraid; for see—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. (Lk.2:10-12)

Are these not the words for which we yearn: “Do not be afraid.” In a world that preys upon our fears, distorting Christ’s message of hope, peace, joy and love, we are so easily led away from God, and our neighbors, by our fears. The death dealers who encourage us to hate those who are not like us or with whom we disagree, who nurture fear with deception, and incite violence will pass away just as Cesar Augustus, King Herod, and the Roman Empire. As the writer of John’s gospel states poetically: “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome the light.” The message of Christmas is that we are not alone in the darkness, not bound to the darkness whatever it is, because God, with steadfast love and perfect goodness, is always present with us.

This Christmas Eve we celebrate the birth of the one called “Immanuel,” “God with us.” Our Immanuel calls us to be present as his body in the world. The great twentieth-century preacher, Frederick Buechner, in his book, Whistling in the Dark, wrote: “The Christian faith always has to do with flesh and blood, time and space, more specifically with your flesh and blood and mine, with the time and space that day by day we are all of us involved with, stub our toes on, flounder around in, trying to look as if we have good sense.” God sent Jesus into the world to do much more than have him bring a message that makes “good sense.” God sent Jesus into the world to show us what God’s love, God’s peace, and God’s mercy looks like in the flesh. Through him, we are called to be the presence of God’s love in the world.

The late Eugene Peterson explained it this way: “The ways Jesus goes about loving and saving the world are personal: nothing disembodied, nothing abstract, nothing impersonal. Incarnate, flesh, and blood relational, particular and local. The ways employed in our North American culture are conspicuously impersonal: programs, organizations, techniques, and general guidelines, informational, detached from the place. In a matter of ways and means, the vocabulary of numbers is preferred over names, ideologies crowd out ideas, the gray fog of abstraction absorbs the sharp particularities of the recognizable face and the familiar street.”

Before he demonstrated the greatest sacrifice for the sake of love – giving up his life for humankind – Jesus was asked by his disciples what the kingdom of God would look like on earth. He surprised them with the answer that they had already witnessed it: “I was hungry, and you gave me food. I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36I was naked and you gave me clothing. I was sick and 4 you took care of me. I was in prison, and you visited me.” (Matt. 25:35-36)

Confused, the story that happened long ago to ordinary people means to be awestruck by the reality of God’s presence with us here and now. Made in God’s image, each of us has the potential for new birth, new life that will lighten the darkness within us and in the world. Our work, our family life, our meetings on the street—all the things we do have the potential to be holy encounters that birth new life. With the assurance of God’s love that embraces us like a mother’s arms and feeds us with the bread of life, we are challenged to walk boldly into the darkness of our worldly woes and seek the light God has promised to guide us to the home in which we are always welcomed and loved. A home with a table big enough to feed all God’s children. The candles are lit, the Lord’s Supper is ready, let us come and share a real Christmas feast together.

So, on Christmas Eve we turn the mystery of the incarnation over to the story, the story of God’s presence in a human infant who became our Savior and the reality of God’s presence with us here and now. And we share this awesome story with people who have witnessed our own stories – family and friends. If we look through the eyes of Christ, we will see holiness tonight. If we keep this story in our hearts and minds when we leave this sanctuary, we will continue to see holiness throughout the world, most especially when we are present among people and places in which we do not expect to find it.

Tonight, Christ has invited us to feast with him at his table and light candles in the darkness of the night. For this, thanks be to God, we are present.
Amen.

 

 

 

© Rev. Denise Clark-Jones, 2021, All Rights Reserved
Westminster Presbyterian Church | 1420 W. Moss Ave. | Peoria, Illinois 61606
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