The Feast of the Nativity
Christmas Day December 25, 2008
Luke 2:1-20
The Rev'd Dr. Kris Lewis

Almighty God, the breeze of your love and grace is ever blowing; may we set our sails to capture that breeze, and may it inspire these words and those who hear them. Amen.

… 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.

I cannot hear those words from the gospel of Luke without thinking of that quintessential Christmas classic, A Charlie Brown Christmas. Although it’s been quite a few years since I last watched it, I can still hear the wonder and awe in Linus’ voice as he reads, “And there were in the same region, shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks…”

The Christmas story is, of course, full of wonder and awe. You could see that on the faces of our children last evening if you were here at our Christmas pageant; you can feel it when you gaze at our amazing crèche, or perhaps when we sing Silent Night. It’s a story with a certain simplicity and innocence—or at least that’s the way we tell it. But I wonder what it was really like on that cold winter night in Bethlehem so very long ago.

Imagine if you can, what Mary must’ve been feeling. We hear that Mary and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem and that while they were there she gave birth and laid her baby in a manger. But think about what that entailed: a long journey on foot, or perhaps by donkey to a strange town, crowded with other travelers, with a new husband, one whom she perhaps had not had time to get to know very well, all the while experiencing a pregnancy announced to her by an angel. And then, the pangs of birth, the contractions, the labor of a first pregnancy far from home, away from her mother, away from her friends, away from all those who would’ve normally supported her, coached her as she labored. Labor, childbirth is hard work and surely this time was no different. But finally she delivered a son—a son!—and as instructed by the angel, she named him Jesus.

And think of Joseph, traveling with a new wife, a wife pregnant with a child that he knew was not his. And then she goes into labor in an unfamiliar town, alone. And helping with childbirth certainly wasn’t his job! Did he help anyway? Did he summon the innkeeper’s wife? Was he thrilled at the birth of a son, no matter who the “real” father was?

And what of the shepherds? Minding their own business, minding their flocks, trying to stay warm, perhaps trying to get some much needed sleep when suddenly an angel appears and announces that a new king has been born. What new king? What does it mean? And why should they go? But go they do.

So we find them, gathered together, an unlikely group—Mary, Joseph, a new babe, shepherds fresh from the fields. Tired, dirty, and in awe of what was happening in their lives, whether they understood it or not.

The Christmas story we hear makes it sound so easy—but in reality it must have been such hard work, making that journey, birthing that baby, coming down from the fields in the middle of the night to pay homage to someone, something you don’t really understand. It must have been so hard for all of them—Mary, Joseph, the shepherds—to open themselves up, to do this work, to let God into their lives in this new way.

And it was a new way…God who created humans in God’s own image, now so moved by love comes, taking on that humanness with all the messiness, the pain, the uncertainty that involved, and living among them, to be the anointed one. Of course God had interacted with humans before—God spoke to Moses in the burning bush, God spoke through the prophets, God sent angelic messengers—but this, this was different. It was new and it was awesome and it was wondrous. But it wasn’t easy. No, it was never easy, despite the innocence and straightforwardness of the gospel story we hear.

That’s how it is in our lives, too, isn’t it? God comes to us, speaks to us, works in us and through us, calls us, but it is rarely easy. Just as Mary labored to give birth, so too must we labor to let God, let Jesus into our lives. Just as Joseph had to work to accept a child that was not his, had to work to care for his new family, so too must we work to nurture that God place within us. Just as the shepherds had to get up in the middle of the night and follow that message from the most unexpected of heralds, so too must we be ready to listen and to follow when God calls to us.

When the shepherds and Mary and Joseph were gathered around the sleeping babe lying in the manger, they shared their stories, and when they shepherds left to return to the hills they told others what had happened, and all were amazed. But Mary, Mary who had been visited by an angel, Mary who had given birth far from home, in a stable, Mary pondered all these things in her heart. No doubt she continued to ponder them over the years, and perhaps even at the foot of the cross.

Today we rejoice in the Feast of the Nativity and we stand and wonder and awe of the events of that holy night so long ago. But even as we sing, “Glory to God in the highest,” even as we rejoice in the marvel that is the Christmas story, may we, too, ponder what this all means in our hearts—not just now but every day. And may we be so filled with joy and wonder that we are ready again to take on the hard work of welcoming Jesus into our lives.