Luke 2:1-20
I am so happy that you came to worship
this morning that I am not going to push my luck by giving you a full blown
sermon. Rather, I want to simply take a
few moments and share some things that are on my heart this day.
You all have known me long enough to
know that I absolutely love Christmas. I
am nuts for cookies and carols, for decorations and cards, for Santa Claus and
hot chocolate and stockings and presents wrapped in shiny paper. I love it all and so today of all days my
heart is filled with cheer.
But I would be a liar if I didn’t
admit that this has been a bummer of a holiday season. Things in our nation are not positive and
with each person that Trump picks for a cabinet position I become increasingly
worried about the year to come. And then
there is Syria. Oh, how Aleppo is daily
in my prayers. I can watch the nightly
news footage of folks waiting hopefully to catch a bus to nowhere that is at
least better than the place they are.
But I can’t look at it all. I
can’t face the graphic news stories on the internet of folks crying out for
help and rows upon rows of dead children.
I can’t look. My heart breaks and
my soul cries out, “Where is God?”
But of course I know where God
is. God is there in Syria, God is with
the grieving mothers, and the frightened children, and the fathers that walk
for miles to find a way where there is no way.
For that is where God has always been.
We find God there in our gospel
reading. While Quirinius is governor of
Syria a decree goes out and everyone is forced to travel. The poor are lumped together as they wander
down the roads to Bethlehem. Of course
there is no room, as Joseph and his pregnant wife are just one among many that
the world has no place for. The poor
couple find what little shelter there is and it is into this meager place that
the Son of God is born. Even though
nothing is right, even though the powers that be care not for the lowly, God comes
into the world. It might seem that
Augustus and Quirinius are in control, but they cannot stop God.
Good news of this birth is told and
the announcement is not made to important people in towers of gold. No, the good news comes to the poor laborers
of the field. The unclean,
untrustworthy, outcasts are the ones to hear good tidings of great joy which
will be for all people.
The shepherds travel, more shadows on
the road, and gather together with the young couple to celebrate the
in-breaking of God into a world that is dark.
Mary ponders these things in her heart and the shepherds return to the
fields. Life continues much the same the
next day, as the powers-that-be continue to dictate the lives of the poor. But in another way, everything has changed,
as the poor announce and celebrate the light that shines in the darkness, the
salvation that is to come, the in-breaking of God into our tiny world.
These are the things I am thinking
about today. And as I look at the world
beyond these walls my heart bears the twins of joy and sorrow. Joy for the smiles of my children and the
pleasures of a safe, warm, abundant holiday celebrated at home. And sorrow for those who have less, for those
who have nothing.
My faith tells me that it is to these
people that the Son of God comes today.
It is in the midst of Aleppo where he will be born. But if I pay attention, if I am ready to
welcome him in any form, then perhaps he may be born in my heart as well. Perhaps I too, from my place of comfort and
privilege, will be able to hear the good tidings of great joy which will be for
all people. I certainly hope so.
May God meet us here today in
worship. And may God be born in our
world this morning in so many hearts that are broken. Amen.
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