Christmas Eve, Yr C (2024) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield
1 Christmas, Yr C (2024) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield
John 1:1-18 St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
In the name of the one, holy, and living God:
who was, and is, and is to come. Amen.
Does anyone remember Advent calendars?
I looked for one this year but could not find one…
granted I didn’t look that hard!
As I child, I remember waiting each day in eager anticipation
as my brother and I would gather with my parents in the evening
and open a new window on the Advent calendar…
seeing the picture behind the little doors…
each day getting one step closer to Christmas.
Occasionally, the anticipation and waiting was just too much to bear,
and I’d sneak a peek through the next window,
carefully pushing the doors back so no one knew I had peeked (or maybe they did).
Each day the pictures told one more piece of the Advent/Christmas story.
Of course, as a child the anticipation built toward the opening of that last window,
which meant that Christmas Day had arrived.
And with the opening of the last window
came the opening of the gifts under the tree,
and the gathering at table with siblings and parents and grandparents and cousins
and visiting strangers from lands afar…
a table so full…
that we always had to set up a second table on the side to accommodate everyone.
To a child it was a time of expectations fulfilled.
Now as adults the question arises:
do we still live with such anticipation for the coming of Christmas,
recognizing, of course, that Christmas is so much more than presents under the tree?
During Advent we sing: O Come, O come, Emmanuel.
Come, O come, Holy God, and break into this world!
In these dark days,
perhaps we feel a little more the urgency and anticipation and hope
of the fulfillment of the presence of Jesus in our own lives!
The world just now seems rather hostile and frightening…
perhaps at times we even feel overcome by the darkness.
With so much of our world in turmoil,
perhaps the angel’s cry of “peace on earth”
seems like more of a wish than a blessing.
And perhaps we who gather today
feel so very small against the backdrop of this troubled world.
Listen once again to these words from Luke’s gospel we heard Christmas Eve:
“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.”
Fellow preacher, David Lose, reflects on this passage:
“What strikes me is that the events Luke describes…
seem incredibly small.
“I mean, what does Emperor Augustus or Governor Quirinius
care about a pregnant teenager or wandering shepherds?
“Mary, Joseph, and the rest – these folks are so incredibly small compared to these rulers.
“And yet Luke declares that whether these rich and powerful leaders care or not
– heck, whether they even notice or not –
the events Luke describes in detail are going to change the whole world.” (http://www.davidlose.net/2014/12/christmas-eveday-b-the-christmas-sermon-i-need-to-hear)
These events:
God breaking in and through the lives of these seemingly insignificant folks –
is going to change the whole world!
Imagine, if you will, what stands behind the windows of an Advent calendar
that tell the story of the many ways in which God has entered salvation history…
through the lives of all the little, insignificant people…
not just the Christmas story,
but the whole history of God’s work.
Perhaps in those little windows you might see pictures of:
Abram, a man advanced in years, and Sarah, his barren wife,
Moses, wandering with his sheep unable to speak clearly,
David, the youngest son in a male hierarchy,
Mary, an unwed pregnant teenager…
and Jesus, a helpless little baby, of all things!
Could this story of God’s coming among us,
in the midst of our ordinary lives,
possibly be true?
Could this story of God coming among us, in fact, change our very lives?
…change the world in which we live?
During these times,
when the world’s darkness seems so much more prominent than the light,
could it be that God is indeed in the midst of us?
Richard Rohr says, “Presence knows things by refusing to objectify them;
instead it shares in their very subjectivity.”
Presence – God – knows us and our lives,
not by objectifying us but by sharing in our very humanness…
by becoming one of us…
and living and suffering and dying as one of us.
Today’s gospel story speaks of Jesus
as the Word who existed from the very beginning of time…
the Word through whom all things, great and small, came into being.
This picture of God is HUGE…
a picture of God’s grandeur and magnificence:
the God who created the heavens and the earth,
the God who spoke through the prophets,
the God who sustains our very life,
the God who beckons us into the fullness of grace and truth.
We see through the images of salvation history the depth and mystery of God’s heart…
a heart that loves us and longs for us so much
that God becomes one of us
so that we can’t help but notice God’s presence in our lives.
God is enfleshed in this baby, Jesus, who grows up and lives and walks among us…
shining Light upon our path…
so that we may see how to extend love and mercy
and Grace and Peace
and forgiveness and wholeness and reconciliation in this broken world.
So, in the midst of the darkness,
the light shines.
The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness did not - and will not - overcome it.
The light shines, not as we objectify others,
but as we see the faces of our neighbors.
The light shines as we feed the hungry,
clothe the naked,
help folks rebuild their homes.
The light shines as we
give refuge to those alienated from their lands by violence and greed,
walk alongside the sick and the dying,
and offer hope to the broken-spirited.
That’s what this story is all about:
to shine light in dark places,
to bring hope to the discouraged,
insight to the lost,
and the promise of peace to all who long for it.
This morning as we celebrate that the Light has broken into our lives,
let us ask ourselves:
How can our lives be a reflection of divine love in this time and place?
How can our lives be a window through which others see God’s love and healing Grace?
For the light is still shining in the darkness,
and the darkness will not overcome it.
Amen.
