Christmas Eve Sermon
2014
Isaiah 9:2-7
Isaiah 9:2-7
“Light”
In a season of dimness, when
the nights are long and the sunshine is rare, we come to you in hope of
brighter days. When shadows lengthen in our hearts and souls, we come for the
warmth and sunshine of your spirit filling our lives, as it filled the life of
Mary, as it rose in the life of the nation of Israel, as it filled the life of
Jesus, spilling out into his world and into our own. May the words of my mouth
and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our rock
and our redeemer. Amen.
Often by the time that
Christmas Eve rolls around, we have gotten a little tired of the endless cheer,
bright lights, and glittering tinsel of the season, if we haven’t come to a
place where those have little to do with our preparation for the coming Christ
in any way. Most of us enjoy a little glitz and sparkle, but somewhere in the
middle of it, I get a little overwhelmed and realize that beyond the sparkle,
there’s not much substance to offer. In spite of the appearance of gold, the
shining foil is just that.
It is then when I begin to
seek out the meaning of God’s incarnation in my life yet again. I might ask
questions.
God, where are you this year?
Are you looking to be welcomed?
Jesus, how can we serve you
now and into the next year?
Where can I find your light
when my own feels dim—and all the sparkle in the world isn’t going to change
that?
How can we discern between
the joy of your presence and the giddy, momentary, and materialistic wants and
desires that fill our moments?
Hearing ancient words of
faith and hope can bring us to a place where we can gently and hopefully seek
out the genuine sources of light in our lives. Light that illuminates and warms
and doesn't just glare blindingly, hiding from us the beauty that is still in
the darkness and mystery—the things just beyond what we can know. The light we
seek doesn't remove darkness, we seek the light that defines and clarifies the
mysteries of our lives. I won’t say it’s always comforting or comfortable—the
light of Christ will illuminate the words, thoughts, and actions we’d rather
hide—instead I’d say that the light of Christ moves us toward wholeness,
revealing the hidden that needs to be seen and nurtured into health or changed
from the evil to the good.
Sometimes we are afraid to
lose darkness, afraid to let go and embrace the light God has placed within
us—in Christ and through the very life that we contain. “We were born to make
manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's
in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other
people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our
presence automatically liberates others.”[1]
It is in this time of year
that we realize the partnership between the darkness and the light. The
definition that each gives the others. The bright shining hope that carries us
forward is a partner with the quiet, dark, hope that most of us need in times
of rest. In this time of year, when the earth is darker here in the northern hemisphere,
we are reminded to seek out the light—the light of Christ, born into a work
dark like our own. We are reminded to see the depths of this night and
experience the joy, deeper than cheer, let us experience the light of Christ,
brighter than the brightest gem.
CHRISTMAS hath darkness
Brighter than the blazing
noon,
Christmas hath a chillness
Warmer than the heat of June,
Christmas hath a beauty
Lovelier than the world can
show:
For Christmas bringeth Jesus,
Brought for us so low.
Earth, strike up your music,
Birds that sing and bells
that ring;
Heaven hath answering music
For all Angels soon to sing:
Earth, put on your whitest
Bridal robe of spotless snow:
For Christmas bringeth Jesus,
Brought for us so low.[2]
To the glory of God, born as
we all were: naked and cold and full of light. Amen.
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