It feels really dark these days. Not only is it really dark,
we just passed the longest night, but it seems like so much of our cultural
speech and actions are so dark, mean even. And Isaiah tells us, the people
walking in darkness have seen a great light. On those living in a pitch-dark
land, light has dawned. I am reminded that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr said,
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive
out hate; only love can do that.” That is really the thing. In a world of
darkness, light shines; in a world of hate, love is born.
That is what we are doing right here, right now. We are
making room in the darkness for the light. We are making room in our hearts for
the love. We are making room in our church for all those who need this good
news of light and love and inclusion. The light, the love, the space, is Jesus.
Don’t be afraid, I bring good news, your savior is born today.
The Divine Love Story begins again. God so loves the world,
that God is born into our world to be with us. Emmanuel, God with us. No matter
how many times I come to this place, this celebration, each time I am awestruck
at the Love that wins.
God, who is the baby born in a barn, the King on a bed of
straw, Jesus, enters our world, our lives, our hearts, because God, the creator
of all that is seen and unseen, loves us. God, the creator of the universe, interrupts
history, to show us the way to mercy and compassion and justice. In this night/morning,
all of creation, the sheep and shepherds, the angels, Mary and Joseph, join
together singing the love song of the ages, Holy, Holy, Holy.
We prepare for this birth each year, we wait in the quiet,
we are illuminated by the increasing light, and we come to this night/morning,
so that we remember who we are. We remember we are God's beloved, we remember
Emmanuel, God with us. We look ahead with hope, trusting that our brokenness
will be healed.
Love breaks through, love will not be contained, sometimes
painfully, sometimes dangerously. This night/day changes things. This birth
changes the world. Jesus, born in the muck and the mess of a stable walks with
us, not to take away our humanity, but to fulfill our humanity. Jesus, born to
ordinary people, Mary and Joseph, walks with us, not to take away the pain and
suffering of this life, but to be with us in the midst of the messiness. Jesus,
born in an obscure corner of the earth, walks with us so that the fragments of
our lives may be made whole. Jesus is born to set us free.
Incarnation. Inconceivable, incarnation. Unreasonable,
inconceivable, incarnation.
This birth means no more business as usual, signified by the
events of that night and the circumstances of this birth. They were waiting for
a King and all those kingly things, and here was a child born in a barn with
shepherds in attendance. They were looking for the Messiah, the one who
would rescue them, and they received a boy, who brought his father's message,
Love one another, as you have been loved first.
For us that means that even our lives, sometimes filled by
regret and disappointment, sometimes colored by cynicism, sometimes fueled by
revenge, are transformed by this birth. It means that God even comes into our
deepest sadness and pain and bears it for us, so that we may begin again.
This birth calls us to change, to transformation. And change
can be scary, but thrilling at the same time. This birth, this life that will
not be contained, speaks to a place deep down inside each of us that wants
something more, something more than a better job or higher income, something
more than a more comfortable home or enjoyable retirement. These things may all
be good, but they don't satisfy for long. We desperately want a sense of
meaning and purpose, we desire to believe that there is more to this life than
meets the eye, we need to hold onto the hope that despite all appearances we
are worthy of love. This birth is about that love, this birth shows us that
Love wins, every time.
And so God comes into the muck and the mess that is this
barn, and that is our lives, to speak quietly but firmly through the blood,
sweat, and tears of the labor pains of a young mother and cry of her infant
that God is absolutely for us, joined to our ups and down, our hopes and fears,
and committed to giving us not just more of the same, but something more.
Christ comes, that is, not just to give us more of the life we know, but new
and abundant life altogether. For in Christ we have the promise that God will
not stop until each and all of us have been embraced and caught up in God's
tremendous love.
This incarnation, this unreasonable, inconceivable,
incarnation, this birth, is about this God who creates us, who loves us so very
much, this God comes be with us, delivered into our world 2000 years ago as a
baby just like us, crashing into our world as the miracle of birth. This God
comes to us as a still small voice that we may only be able to hear at the most
desperate times in our lives, when we fall to our knees and give it all over.
This God comes to us in the indescribable words of prayer. This God comes to us
crying in the voice of those who continue to be hungry and thirsty. This God
comes to us singing in the voice of the child. This God comes to us in the multitude
of voices calling for reason in unreasonable time. This God comes to us in the
unfamiliar voice of the immigrant, looking for a better way. This God comes to
us in the howling voice of the wind and the rain, redrawing the landscape of
our lives. This God comes to us in the voice of the one who cries, remember me,
when you come into your kingdom.
This is the God who loves you so very much, unreasonably so,
not because of what you've done or not done, not because of who you are or what
you're worth. Not because of anything, other than you are a wonderfully and
fearfully created child of God. And it is this love that wins, it is this love
that transforms your heart, and your mind and your soul. It is this love that
grows in you, that gives you reason to live fully and completely alive. It is
this love that doesn't judge whether you have enough, are enough, or even give
enough. Indeed, it is this love that makes dead people alive.
And this is the God who says to us, love one another, as I
have first loved you. This is the God that gives us the spirit so that when we
see fear and pain and need around us, we head toward it and enter into it
freely, risking ourselves to bring hope and healing into the world.
So we were made for times such as these, these dark times,
these times in which the truth of love is vital. So we were made for times such
as these, these dark times, these times in which the truth of justice is
necessary, these times in which our words do indeed matter. We were made for
times such as these, these dark times, these times in which our love for one
another, our community, will be our hope.
Unto us a child is born, come, let us adore him.
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