Luke 2.1-20

Christmas Eve | 24.12.2022 | Luke 2.1-20 | Richard O. Johnson |

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 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, because there was no place for them in the inn.

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, „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. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.“ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

„Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!“

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, 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.“ So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them. (Luke 2.1-20 NRSV)

All my heart this night rejoices

As I hear, far and near, sweetest angel voices:

“Christ is born,” their choirs are singing,

Till the air everywhere now with joy is ringing.

Yes, Christ is born, and all the world with joy is ringing. What is it that brings such joy this night? Christmas is a lovely time, a festive time, a season of sights and sounds and smells and poignant memories. But all those things are not the point, of course. The real wonder of Christmas is something quite different. It is, to quote the familiar words of the Nicene Creed, that for us and for our salvation he came down from heaven. By the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate from the virgin Mary, and was made man. That is the wonder: that God took on human flesh.

Concrete God

Why would God do that? There’s an old story about a man who needed a new driveway. He decided to do the work himself, though he had never done anything quite like that before. He broke apart and tore out the old concrete. He rented a cement mixer, and made all the preparations, then poured the cement. After he was finished, he and his wife took a ride into town. When they returned, they found all the neighborhood children, gathered around the new driveway, writing their names in the wet cement. Furiously, the man jumped out of the car, and yelling and cursing, chased the children away. “My goodness,” said his wife, “that was certainly uncalled for! I thought you liked children!” The man replied (wait for it!), “Well, I do like children in the abstract; but not in the concrete.”

In the birth of Christ, God became concrete—someone we could touch, someone we could see. “He became incarnate from the virgin Mary and was made man”—so that we could see who God is.

Come and see!

Hark!  A voice from yonder manger

Soft and sweet does entreat, “Flee from woe and danger.

Come and see: from all that grieves you

You are freed; all you need I will surely give you.

Come and see: That is such a gracious invitation! Come and see this incredible gift of God! But what is it that we see? Here, at this manger, when we follow that soft and sweet voice, what do we see? I would like to suggest two things.

The first is that we see who God is. Philosophers and theologians have tried for centuries to define God. Their ideas are challenging, often engaging; but in the end, what we want is not philosophy. We don’t want the abstract, but the concrete. And here we see it.

When my daughter was a wee little girl, she attended a parent co-op preschool. One year I volunteered to play Santa for the preschool Christmas party. My job was to dress in the Santa suit they provided, come and chat with the children and hand out gifts. The Santa suit was quite authentic, but instead of real boots it had some black vinyl spats that looked like the tops of boots, and they came down and fit over the shoes of the person wearing the suit. I cleverly wore my black wingtips to make the boots look as real as possible.

So here I was, sitting in a chair with fifteen preschoolers gathered around me on the floor.  I noticed my daughter staring with great curiosity at my feet. “Uh-oh,” I thought, “the jig is up.”  I wondered how I was going to explain that Santa Claus was really just Dad. Suddenly she looked up into my eyes and said, “Santa, know what? My daddy has shoes just like yours!”

We hear that soft and sweet voice calling to us from the manger. We creep to the edge and look at this infant holy, infant lowly. And suddenly we know: our Father has a face just like that! Our Father has a tender smile just like that! Our Father has a gentle touch just like that!  This Babe shows us the very heart of God!

God’s theory of who I am

But there is something else we see here in this stable. We see God, but we also see ourselves. Several years ago, Garrison Keillor wrote a whimsical little essay, published, of all the unlikely places, in the Christmas catalogue for the retail store Land’s End. He reflected on the awkwardness of receiving gifts that aren’t exactly what you wanted. “A Christmas gift,” he wrote, “represents somebody’s theory of who you are, or who they wish you were, and of course we know how to handle the wildly inappropriate gift from a stranger; but what if you see yourself as a suave dude and a swift intellect and then one year your wife—your wife!—gives you a pair of singing undershorts that perform “O Tannenbaum” when you sit down and a battery-powered coin bank in which a little farmer picks up the coin in his pitchfork and hoists it into the silo? That’s when you go through a sort of identity crisis. You’d like to get a gift that aims high—Whitman’s Leaves of Grass or a ticket to Nepal. … Instead here is a pair of bedroom slippers with lights in the toes so you can see your way to the bathroom at night.”

A Christmas gift “represents somebody’s theory of who you are.” Do you see it? This Child, this Babe of Bethlehem, is the Father’s gift to you. He represents who God thinks you are! Oh, I know your idea of who you are is quite different. You think you are a pretty ordinary and undistinguished sinner, nobody to whom God would pay much notice. But God’s gift says that in God’s mind and heart, you are something quite different! You are someone who might treasure this Child! You are someone who might seek to follow him in his way of righteousness and peace, follow him in his care and compassion, in his obedience to God’s will! Most of all, you are someone that God loves so very much that he was willing to take on your humanity, your weakness, to be with you, close to you, in the very most concrete way he could be!

When we gaze at this Child, we see our own reflection in the eyes of God, an image that tells us of what God has done so that we might be his own.  It is an unexpected gift, to be sure:  but a gift that reveals, as nothing else can, just who we are and how very much the Giver loves us!

Come, then, let us hasten yonder;

Here let all, great and small, kneel in awe and wonder.

Love him who with love is yearning;

Hail the star that from far bright with hope is burning!

---

Pastor Richard O. Johnson

Webster, NY

roj@nccn.net