Christmas Eve
Scripture readings for the day: Isaiah 62:6-12, Psalm 97, Titus 3: 4-7, Luke 2: 1-20
And 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.” Luke 2: 10-11
We are almost there. All the last-minute things are getting done. There is a hum of energy and melody in the air. It isn’t just us--it is all of creation. That thin line separating heaven from earth is so fine you can almost see through it. God’s own is coming among us. His name is Emmanuel—God-with-us. This gift of God is made of the same stuff we are and is made of the same stuff God is.
This time is filled with Christmas dreams and memories. We have this wonderful idea of how it should all be, but it doesn’t always live up to our expectations. We thought this Christmas would be better and easier than last year. Instead, we are still hoping for a calmer, purer, more centered, non-COVID time.
We know the story. We have an idealized image of how it should be. We expect one of those Christmas card images where the artist focuses on all the right things—the softness of the baby’s skin; the warm bodies of the animals standing around the child, heating the air with their breath; Mary and Joseph offering there serene, attentive love. But everything didn’t go as perfectly as we picture it. Mary and Joseph were tired and frustrated. They were away from home and family. Mary has given birth in less-than-ideal circumstances. There was no bed in which to rest. Joseph had to prepare the food, and he was a better carpenter than cook. They weren’t expecting company—certainly not a bunch of scruffy shepherds. And yet, God was still there, right in the middle of the picture. Peace was there, and joy, and hope, and love—not only for the best of times but also (and maybe especially) for the difficult and unusual moments.
It is God-with-us; not God up there somewhere who answers our prayers by lifting us up out of our lives, but the God who comes to us in the midst of our living. That is where God is born—in any cradle we will offer.
A lot of us hope for a moment tonight or sometime tomorrow when everything will be perfect—just like it seems in our neat and clean nativity sets or Christmas card pictures. We want to be transported into that heavenly feeling of calm and wonder and awe, where we will know and feel, without any questions that powerful presence of God in us. But all our work will not make that happen: Someone’s gift won’t fit; an expensive toy won’t work right, and a child’s overflow of anticipation will give way to tears; all the parts will not fit together the way the diagram shows; and that one relative will still know how everything should be done, while sitting there doing nothing to help. It will never be Christmas perfect.
And that is all right, because tonight, all of heaven is coming down to us; right into our own Bethlehem, bringing us the God who has decided to make a home in our arms. Christmas becomes perfect as we open our arms and hearts to receive the Christ God gives to us. For God is with us. Christ is born. Alleluia!
Prayer: God of great love, remind us of the good news, for we sometimes forget. Take us to see Jesus, for it is easy to lose our way. Grant us the joy of your presence and the assurance of your steadfast love. As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, may the light and power of Christ come into our hearts that we may find peace with you now and forever. Amen.
Rev. Dr. Mark Conner
And 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.” Luke 2: 10-11
We are almost there. All the last-minute things are getting done. There is a hum of energy and melody in the air. It isn’t just us--it is all of creation. That thin line separating heaven from earth is so fine you can almost see through it. God’s own is coming among us. His name is Emmanuel—God-with-us. This gift of God is made of the same stuff we are and is made of the same stuff God is.
This time is filled with Christmas dreams and memories. We have this wonderful idea of how it should all be, but it doesn’t always live up to our expectations. We thought this Christmas would be better and easier than last year. Instead, we are still hoping for a calmer, purer, more centered, non-COVID time.
We know the story. We have an idealized image of how it should be. We expect one of those Christmas card images where the artist focuses on all the right things—the softness of the baby’s skin; the warm bodies of the animals standing around the child, heating the air with their breath; Mary and Joseph offering there serene, attentive love. But everything didn’t go as perfectly as we picture it. Mary and Joseph were tired and frustrated. They were away from home and family. Mary has given birth in less-than-ideal circumstances. There was no bed in which to rest. Joseph had to prepare the food, and he was a better carpenter than cook. They weren’t expecting company—certainly not a bunch of scruffy shepherds. And yet, God was still there, right in the middle of the picture. Peace was there, and joy, and hope, and love—not only for the best of times but also (and maybe especially) for the difficult and unusual moments.
It is God-with-us; not God up there somewhere who answers our prayers by lifting us up out of our lives, but the God who comes to us in the midst of our living. That is where God is born—in any cradle we will offer.
A lot of us hope for a moment tonight or sometime tomorrow when everything will be perfect—just like it seems in our neat and clean nativity sets or Christmas card pictures. We want to be transported into that heavenly feeling of calm and wonder and awe, where we will know and feel, without any questions that powerful presence of God in us. But all our work will not make that happen: Someone’s gift won’t fit; an expensive toy won’t work right, and a child’s overflow of anticipation will give way to tears; all the parts will not fit together the way the diagram shows; and that one relative will still know how everything should be done, while sitting there doing nothing to help. It will never be Christmas perfect.
And that is all right, because tonight, all of heaven is coming down to us; right into our own Bethlehem, bringing us the God who has decided to make a home in our arms. Christmas becomes perfect as we open our arms and hearts to receive the Christ God gives to us. For God is with us. Christ is born. Alleluia!
Prayer: God of great love, remind us of the good news, for we sometimes forget. Take us to see Jesus, for it is easy to lose our way. Grant us the joy of your presence and the assurance of your steadfast love. As we celebrate the birth of Jesus, may the light and power of Christ come into our hearts that we may find peace with you now and forever. Amen.
Rev. Dr. Mark Conner
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