Christmas Eve Sermon

It’s Monday at 3:00pm.  The kids come home at 4:30pm.  Thursday is Christmas Eve.  And daycare is closed on Wednesday.  Which means I have about an hour left today, plus daycare hours tomorrow to get ready for Christmas.  No pressure, though.

Seriously.  I try to take deep breaths and not put too much pressure on myself.  But this is Christmas Eve!  One of the church’s most beautiful nights!  And a night on which more people will be packed into our pews than on any other occasion, except, of course, maybe Easter.  As a pastor it’s easy to fall into feeling a little cynical about all those unfamiliar faces crossing the church’s threshold on Christmas and taking a spot in a pew.  But I try real hard to see it as more of an opportunity.  It’s a pretty amazing privilege to be given about 10 to 15 minutes to speak to the masses….to have people’s ear and hopefully their attention during worship.  So I want to do well.  No, honestly, I want to do great.  I want to create a worship moment full of beauty.  I want to say something meaningful, and truthful, and hope-filled.  I want to shed a little light into people’s darkness.  And, by the grace of God, I believe that this is possible.  I believe that it is possible for people to experience the Living Word through a pastor’s words….if that pastor has carefully and prayerfully prepared.  So, again, no pressure.  When are my kids coming home??

My primary preaching text for Christmas Eve will be the traditional birth narrative from Luke, Chapter 2: 1-20.  I focused on Isaiah 9:2-7 last year and had fun playing with the dark / light image of “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”  The year before last, I preached a sermon called “What Mary Knew” and focused on Mary’s Magnificat.  Dan followed the sermon by singing, “Mary, Did you Know?”   I can always count on Dan to do something beautiful musically.   So this year I felt it was time to go back to Luke’s familiar story.

My challenge with Luke, though, is how to find a new angle on an old, familiar story.  I’ve found that in order to get my creative juices flowing, I have to find some new angle on the passage, or a new phrase that pops out at me, or a new image.  This year, Charles L. Campbell in his “Homiletical Perspective” in Feasting on the Word gave me my angle.  He directed me to two phrases in the Luke passage that I hadn’t noticed before.  In his article he discusses the significance of the passage that begins with the phrase, “In those days…”  “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.”   Then, halfway through the passage, and the story, when Jesus is born the angel announces to the shepherds, “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.”  It’s an interesting turn in the passage when Luke takes us from “In those days” to “this day” of Jesus’ birth.

“In those days” clearly marks the days of Roman imperialism and Roman oppression of the people.  In those days all the world was to be registered.  All the world was to pack up their bags, head home to the place of their birth and be registered so they could then be properly (or exorbitantly) taxed.  How inconvenient.  How rude.  How oppressive it must have felt to make such a trip….especially if you were expecting a baby real soon.  The story begins “in those days.” In those days of forced marches back to your hometown and of heavy, burdensome taxes.  “In those days…” “Even the words sound tired and hopeless,” writes Charles Campbell.

Yet, after Jesus has been born, “this day” has arrived.  “This day,” is full of hope, and promise, and new beginnings.  “This day” has the energy of the present, rather than the weariness of the past.  “This day” marks the turning point in the Christmas story, in our Christian history, and in the lives of all those gathered for worship on Christmas Eve.  From here on out it is all about “this day” and how we respond to the promise that “this day” brings.

Using the contrasting phrases, “In those days” and “this day” I am hoping to write a sermon that somewhat poetically can go back and forth between the two, contrasting the hopelessness of “in those days” with the hope of “this day.”

I am also thinking of using Longfellow’s poem / carol, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” that begins pretty hopeless.  “And in despair I bowed my head ‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said, ‘For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.’ But it ends pretty hope-filled, “Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: ‘God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; the wrong shall fail, the right prevail with peace on earth, good will to men.”  And maybe…just maybe we’ll hear some bells pealing at the end?  I need something.  Something creative.  Something beautiful.  Because it is, after all, Christmas Eve.

May the words of my mouth, the meditations of my mind, and the feelings of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.  Amen.