ISAIAH 9:2; JOHN 1:9-14; Luke 2:15-20
CHRISTMAS MORNING
ROBERT M WATKINS
One of the special qualities of worship during Christmas is simply the light in which worship. The sanctuary looks far different now than it does in the light when we gather together in other times and seasons. The golds and yellows of the incandescent trees bathe us with warmth and softness, embracing us in the peace of this place in way unique to this time of year.
What better place to meet our God.
That is the whole point of our gathering this morning. We have heard the angels sing; we have come as did the shepherds to see this thing that God has done. God has come to us as one of us to be with us in redeeming grace. God meets with us.
Of course, we are quite literally far removed from that meeting. Christ was born 2000 years ago in a remote corner of the world. It was so long ago that we do not even know the precise time that it happened. We set a date and broke the bleak midwinter with a festive celebration, but when it actually happened is no longer known. Sometime between 6 BC and 12 AD, we think. Taking Luke’s hints and running them through Matthew’s filter, it could well have happened, not in bleak midwinter, but in glorious summer sunshine. The distance we experience muddies things and makes them foggy. It is like approaching the mountains. First, we see only the dark, hazy shadows on the horizon. Distance makes them small and fuzzes their ridges. But we know they are mountains. We know they are huge. We know their magnificence.
That is what John wants us to know–the pure magnificence of Christ’s arrival. He came as the first light of God’s new creation–the world as it should be, free of the specter of sin and death, alive with wonder, joy, and peace. John wants us to see the first rays of the new rising sun on the dawn of God’s recreation of the world and us within it.
So we gather in the warmth and embrace of this sanctuary, cloaked in the light of a winter morning. Sitting still, breathing, it washes over us and through us. For some of us, this experience makes Christmas. We relish being here in this light. We want to take in the sanctuary and the poinsettias and the trees and the flying angels overhead. We let the carols waft over us, carrying us to quiet Bethlehem, awakening still weary with the weariness of simply living, but to whom and for whom Christ has come and angels sing. Oh, to be with those shepherds–to see the wonder of it all.
There is a cross before us.
This cross requires our attention.
It is not meant to dampen the warmth of the day, but to enhance it. Through this cross, we find the words of the prophet fulfilled. Here is the source of the wondrous light shining upon us. We come to worship a child, but hear the proclamation of John–as we receive Christ born to us, he gives us–
the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of
the will of the flesh nor of human volition, but of God.
(Jn. 1:12c-13)
In the cross, that claim by God upon each of us is made plainly and clearly and inescapably. Through the cross, Christ meets us face to face, offering redeeming grace in the gift of himself, given without question, without hesitation, given freely to make us free.
For some, this piece clashes with Christmas. It seems an intrusion of darkness in our festival of light.
But, no, nothing could be further from the truth. It is in the cross that the light we celebrate shines most brightly. Here is the reason the child was born–here his purpose is fully revealed for all to see. Here is the great light that shines on those who dwell in darkness. Here is the light of redeeming love. Again and again, John proclaims, not its sadness, but its glory–here is the fiery light of Christ, shattering all despair, hopelessness, and angst–here is the good news!
God chose long ago to intervene. God chose long ago to do so through a child born to us. God chose long ago to call all the world to be with him. So long ago, yet so very present. Here it is before us. Here it is to be taken ahold of and embraced.
Here it is–the first light, the one light, the only light necessary to see our way clear of all that would blind us to hope, comfort, and joy.
So, sit still, take in the light of this place, allow it to warm heart and mind alike. It is good and all is well and all manner of things shall be well.
Amen.
