Luke 2:1-20
Holy One, we gather in the darkness of this night to remember the sacred story: The baby that has been born. We offer our deep gratitude. We look ahead with anticipation. We place our world, communities, loved ones, and ourselves in your tender care. For the desperate, we pray for hope. For the fearful, we pray for peace. For the heartbroken, we pray for joy. For all people, on this holy night, we pray love. Let us know your powerful and intimate presence with us as we celebrate the birth of your son, Jesus. Amen.
I think I was eight or ten years old the first time I was in a Christmas pageant. Because I had a good memory and projecting voice, I was always the narrator of the Christmas story into my late teens. That was my privilege and honor.
Luke tells us the most familiar Christmas story, and he does an excellent job setting the whole stage for the story. He begins with the headline of the day:
“In those days, a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.” (Luke 2:1)
If there had been newspapers in the ancient Mediterranean world, this would have been the front-page headline on every one of them. In Athens, Ephesus, Damascus, Alexandria, and Jerusalem alike, the big news was this decree from the Roman emperor. It would have been the lead story on every news broadcast and the hot topic of each roundtable discussion. It set people in motion throughout the Empire, including a newly married couple from Nazareth.
But, I call Christmas “God’s sneak attack” because the Baby Jesus didn’t come marching into the world through the front door. He didn’t come with power or prominence, with influence or importance. He didn’t enter into the spotlight. God came into the world through the back door; he snuck in. He came practically unnoticed by the world to an obscure and unimportant place and unknown and insignificant people. And that continues to be his Christmas strategy. He continues to sneak into our world, into our lives, at Christmas time.
Christmas was — and continues to be — God’s sneak attack. He sneaks in through songs, traditions, and sentiment. He sneaks in through the season’s generosity, goodwill, and festivities. He sneaks in through the excitement children feel at Christmas.
Christmas gives us a glimpse of what God is like and what he continues to do. God didn’t come marching in through the front door, flexing his muscles, and demanding the spotlight. He could have, but he did not. The movie star may arrive with their entourage. The sports team trots onto the court or field with fanfare, cheers, and applause. The big-name performer receives a standing ovation. And the President, Prime Minister, and Queen are all welcomed by bands, red carpets, and protocol. But the King of Kings arrived in swaddling clothes, mostly ignored by the world. And, still today, the Lord does not barge into our lives. Instead, he stands at the door, knocks (Revelation 3:20), and waits for us to welcome him. [1]
Look at that familiar nativity scene and the elements there: Joseph and Mary, the little town of Bethlehem, a stable, and a manger. At Christmas, Jesus came into the lives of insignificant, ordinary people. That’s good news for you and me; he willingly comes into our lives, too. At Christmas, God came into a place that seemed small and unimportant. I’m glad my life and home are small and inconsequential. At Christmas, He went into a place that was dirty and unworthy of him. And that’s good news for me, for my heart is dirty and unworthy, yet God comes to reside there.
Philips Brooks’ Christmas carol sums up Jesus’ entry into the world:
“How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given; so God imparts to human hearts the blessings of his heaven. No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin, where meek souls will receive him; still the dear Christ enters in.”
Some people of Jesus’ time expected the Messiah to be an influential and powerful man who would free the Jewish nation from under Roman rule. But the Savior of the world, whose life, death, and resurrection would have eternal impact, was born into lowly circumstances. Neither Joseph nor Mary had a position or power, and even Jesus’ birth city of Bethlehem was politically unimportant. Those who kept vigil for a Messiah with worldly status no doubt missed the Savior when He came.
Here is a God who is marvelously willing and able. He is ready to come backstage, and then he can steal the show. I have seen the Christmas story repeatedly played out in individual lives. It is the story of this God who could come bursting in but does not. It is the story of this God who comes in gently and unassumingly, perhaps even unnoticed at first. And it is the story of this God who, bit by gracious bit, moves into the spotlight of our lives. He moves toward the center of our stage. And the God who comes into your life and mine backstage, by his mercy, becomes the star of our show.
I was eight or ten when I first narrated a Christmas pageant on Christmas Eve, which was my privilege. But it is today, my most incredible honor- and yours, too – to be a year-round nativity scene: a life that depicts how God comes and reigns.
Theologian and African-American, 
Howard Thuman penned these words:
On this Christmas Eve, as Baby Jesus was the light of the world:
“I will light candles this Christmas.
Candles of joy, despite all the sadness.
Candles of hope where despair keeps watch.
Candles of courage where fear is ever present.
Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days.
Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens.
Candles of love to inspire all of my living.
Candles that will burn all the year long. “[2]
Let us pray:
Jesus, the Light of the World, as we celebrate your birth, may we begin to see the world in the light of the understanding you give us. As you chose the lowly, the outcasts, and the poor to receive the most significant news the world had ever known, so may we worship you in the humility of heart. May we also remember our brothers and sisters less fortunate than ourselves in this season of giving.
Christmas Eve Benediction
As you leave this time of worship, may you carry with you the wonders of the sacred Christmas story: the unconventional hospitality of the manger, the painful joy of new birth, the fearful awe of encountering angels, the surprising presence of God in the swaddled Christ child. Go now in the hope of God, the peace of Christ, and the joy of the Spirit. Know that Divine Love always goes with you on this holy night and ever more.
Amen.
(starts 4:19-15:14)
Delivered at Ohio Living Westminster Thurber Tower and Westminster Terrace, Columbus, OH; 24 December 2023
[1] Adapted from David J. Kalas, Sermons on the Gospel Readings, Cycle C, CSS Publishing Company
[2] Howard Thurman, The Mood of Christmas & Other Celebrations
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