Finding the Extraordinary; Sermon, Christmas Eve, 2017

Isaiah 9:2-4, 6-7

Luke 2:1-20

It is nice to see so many faces of people returning home for the holidays.  Christmas is a time when we often do our best to visit with people we aren’t able to be with throughout the year, sometimes returning to our childhood home. 

But while we are traveling home, Mary and Joseph are traveling away, as ordinary people, far from the home where they are comfortable, into the dark wilderness of the countryside.

The Christmas story through the eyes of Luke, our Gospel writer, is a contrast between what is ordinary or secretly extraordinary.  Our story, as told by Luke, shows a great many ways that Joseph, and Mary, and this birth were merely ‘ordinary’.  And yet, at each turn, it is augmented by the extraordinary – in secret.

It begins before our reading today with a priest, Zechariah, receiving a terrifying message from an angel of an unlikely birth – not of Jesus, but of John the Baptist by his aging wife Elizabeth.  This is nothing short of a miracle, seeing as Elizabeth had been childless for quite some time.  But Zechariah was struck speechless by the encounter and could tell no one.  The extraordinary is concealed.

Months later, when Zechariah’s wife is in her 6^th month of pregnancy, the Angel Gabriel comes to the faithful maiden named Mary, announcing a yet more remarkable birth.  This child will be the Son of the Most High, and will create a kingdom that will reign forever.  He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace.  But Mary tells only Elizabeth, and the world is none the wiser. These ordinary, faithful women know that life will be radically changed, but they are in the minority.  For now.

A decree is issued for all to be counted.  Bethlehem is the birthplace of King David. Joseph, being of the line of David, must return to that city to be counted. By being born in this famous city, Jesus acquires ‘messianic credentials’.  But this ordinary couple is pushed to the margins, relegated to the mercy of Innkeepers for shelter.  Extraordinary credentials, ordinary activity.

In a world ruled by the towering military power of Rome, the Empire of Caesar Augustine and the extraordinary wealth created by taxes and colonization, Luke shows us that despite that, God comes to dwell with a humble, unimportant couple who are still at the whim of Caesar. Even though God will be with them, even though they are in a precarious situation, they must still travel to be counted in the Census.  Just like ordinary citizens.  Even though heavy with child, Mary is afforded no luxury.  Just like ordinary immigrants. Even though Mary knows this child will be different, she does everything necessary to birth a healthy child.  Just like ordinary mothers.

Mary and Joseph have everything auspicious in their favor.  They have received messages from God, have experienced and impossible pregnancy, they are in a Royal city and having a virgin birth. But rather than be heralded in a Temple or a Palace or a House made of Cedar, they are out in the hinterlands in a stable.  They are housed with animals, in the everyday space of devoted people of lowly status like shepherds in the field.

God chooses to dwell in the ordinary, in human form, not as a king or a child to royalty, but as an infant born to a vulnerable couple, out of wedlock, in the animal’s quarters. Not in the temple walls or that of a palace, but in hay within mud walls of a stable.

And then, a Star. 

For a year now, in scripture lesson after scripture lesson, for sermon after sermon your pastor keeps reminding you of the importance of the Temple to the Jews in Jesus’ time. The Temple was where God resided, where God was honored, where God was experienced.  Isn’t it odd, then, that God comes to dwell among humanity far, far from the Temple?  Isn’t it conspicuous that God leaves the walls of God’s house to dwell within something else? Rather than adhere to the human idea of where God lives, the Divine shows up in the fields. Rather than reveal the extraordinary, God comes to surprise us with the ordinary miracle of the fate of this child.  

After all, it is the shepherd engaged in the very ordinary work of “watching over their flocks by night” that the extraordinary message is given.  It is to us – ordinary people – that a son is born.  He is finally born, on this very evening, to we who have been waiting for the Messiah to come and change the world.

He is just a baby, susceptible to the whims of the world, to a government census, to an overcrowded city, to a cold night, and to doting parents.  The only clue to the majesty of this child is a star, a few bewildered visitors, and angels singing into the dark and quiet, ordinary night – about the extraordinary world to come.  Making clear, once and for all, that no one is inconspicuous in the eyes of God.

God does not adhere to our human expectations of the extraordinary. While we might be looking for trumpets, or a military brigade, or fireworks, God shows up with a newborn’s cry in the dark night.  But with that quite ordinary cry, we can recognize that God, Emanuel, is truly here to dwell among us.  God’s commitment to enter into humanity, to see through our eyes and feel through our skin and see humanity as no one else would is extraordinary in its very ordinary-ness. 

God augments the ordinary to make everyday happenings of the life of a humble couple extraordinary.  With God, we can see the extraordinary in our everyday lives, in the small miracles and the unexpected revelations.  And truly, that is the surprise of Christmas.  May God help you see the extraordinary this Christmas, too.

Impractical Gifts; Sermon, December 24, 2017

2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16

Luke 1:26-38

There is a joke going around on Facebook about gifts for the Christ-Child… specifically gifts brought by the 3 Wise Men.   As the joke goes, if it was 3 wise women instead of three wise men… Three wise woman would have asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, and brought practical gifts, rather than frankincense and myrrh.  You know, like maybe a crib. 

Practical gifts.  Ugh, who wants ‘em? 

‘Tis is the season of gift-giving.   And it’s not always easy to find the right gift.  (Teenage daughters seem particularly difficult to buy for, from what I hear.)  Did you ever give a very well-intentioned gift, only to find out it was not at all what was wanted?

Maybe you bought something that you thought, ‘of course my brother or mother or friend will want this, because I would. Who wouldn’t?’  Only to find out you were quite unique in your taste?  Last year I discovered a machine that makes soft serve ice cream out of frozen bananas.  It’s amazing. It is an ice cream substitute that’s cold and sweet and completely healthy!  So I gave one to every household in my family…  and I never heard another word about it.  I imagine they are all collecting dust in their basements or taking up space in their cupboards.

Maybe you were thinking about someone’s own good, but which doesn’t fare well in the light of day… many years ago I was working for someone running for Congress, and I had some anxiety about my manners – or lack thereof – and that my social instincts were no match for the fancy fundraisers, elected officials and wealthy people we rubbed elbows with.  That year for Christmas, under our tree my friend and roommate gave me a book on etiquette, so I could learn what I did wrong.  It was well-intentioned… but it certainly didn’t feel much like a gift!

And then there are those super practical gifts, like tires or a vacuum cleaner.  Your loved one knows it is really important and helpful and maybe even expensive, but still looks at you with a bit of disbelief when they open it on Christmas morning…

Today in our reading, God was about to get a misguided gift from King David in the Old Testament.  1^st Samuel feels like an odd scripture, to be sure, to be included in our Advent season.  What does King David building a house for God have anything to do with the Christ-child that we are eagerly awaiting?  I mean, come on… I don’t remember any Christmas songs in this season of music that relate that story! What is it doing here in Advent?

The story in Samuel brings together the threads that hold our history together – it’s the linchpin between the old stories in the Old Testament and the coming of the Christ child.  It is both reflecting on the promises of God from Abraham and also pointing to the arrival of the anointed one, God’s son, who will come from the line of David.  It reaches way back into our history, in the very beginning, when God made a covenant with Abraham.  In return for Abraham’s faithful service, God would lead him to a promised land and make sure his descendants numbered like the stars.  But it doesn’t happen within one or even several generations…   we have Exodus, and Leviticus, and Deuteronomy, and several prophets and the 12 tribes become 2 kingdoms and, eventually, David is called to be King.  And after years of war, and roaming through the desert with the tabernacle – that is, the tent where God resides - and finally settling in a land, winning peace and crafting stability – Here we are.  God’s people have been faithful, more or less, and have multiplied and completed their journey and settled comfortably in their land.  Their time of struggle appears to be over and David breathes a sigh of relief. 

And then King David does a classic gift blunder.  In his gratitude, determines he would like to do something nice for God.  Having finally come into his own and having a minute to breath a sigh of relief, David feels that it’s only appropriate to build something beautiful to honor God, who has been with them through all this struggle.  And it is probably with this sense of gratitude that David imagines a comfortable residence with the most prized building materials – cedar – probably something appropriately beautiful and majestic to honor such an amazing God.  Why should such a God reside in a tent when God deserves a mansion? 

Except, King David forgot to inquire whether God wished for a home.  God had other ideas.  “Are YOU to build me a house?  Have I not shepherded YOU and protected YOU for all these years just fine with out a house??  Did I ask for a house?  I have not lived in a house since I brought YOU, Israel, from Egypt and I was plenty HAPPY to be moving in a tent!” 

It’s like trying to tell your mother what’s best for her… You can imagine her saying, “YOU are going to try to pamper ME?  Did I not carry you 9 months and go through 20 hours of labor and suckle you and wipe your tears and bandage your knees and keep a roof over your head and food on the table and whip your butt when you needed it?  And now, you are going to put me in a house in the backyard like a decoration?”  I can almost hear the sarcasm through the scripture when God says, “wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with anyone saying, 'Why have you NOT built me a house of cedar?’”

Oops.

God is God and God will walk where God wishes to walk.  God is the one who gives gifts, not David. However good his intentions, David does not have the stature or the vision or the power to house God.  God will not be domesticated.

But God’s gifts are also… not always what we would expect or hope for.  God does not adhere to our human expectations of what life should be.  And truly, that is the surprise of Christmas.  King David presents God with the plan to build God a home designed to the height of human aspirations - but God says no.  Instead, God makes a home dwelling in humanity, in human form, not as a king or a child to royalty, but as an infant born to a vulnerable couple, out of wedlock, in the animal’s quarters.

God gives Mary quite the impractical and unexpected gift.  God’s commitment to enter into humanity, to see through our eyes and feel through our skin and see humanity as no one else would is not what was expected from a powerful God.  Rather than be boxed in and framed up and defined as humans tend to do, God comes to surprise us with the miracle of our fate, the fate of this child, and God’s fate for us.  And this God child continues to be unexpected, and show us the unexpected, for the rest of his life and death and resurrection.

How did Mary feel about the gift God gave her?  Do you ever wonder that? Did she say, “I’m sorry, you are going to….what?”   Were there moments of doubt, or dread, or feelings like “take this gift back”?  Was there disbelief, or agitation? We know from Mary’s song, from the Magnificat, that Mary comes to be astonished with joy at God’ favor.  Was there an evolution of acceptance, a few moments of bewilderment, in this gift-giving from God, in this experience that elevates her above all others?  How long did it take to sink in?  How long did acceptance take?

On the scale of gifts, the gift of child to Mary was not at all what she expected, nor was it practical.  And certainly not that easy to manage.  Surely, there had to be moments of misgiving during her motherhood of Jesus.  Perhaps, the first time she told Joseph…?  Or, when they couldn’t find a place to stay when she was heavy with child?  What did she think of God’s gift when the people in her town started to talk about his miracles and his teachings?  Or when she followed him as he carried the cross?  

She may have had misgivings.  But, if at any point, she gave into her doubt, surely it was only because, in that moment – she forgot the Angel Gabriel’s message for just a second, or had trouble imagining the value he would be to the world. 

It would be nice if we could always get what we wanted.  It would be nice if God’s gifts to us were as expected, and God answered every prayer as hoped for.  In the twists and turns of life, gifts may be disguised as burdens.  Important experiences feel like detours.  Our casual encounters may hide a redeeming reconciliation for someone else.  Offhand advice may provide a perfect resolution to someone else’s chronic problem.  There are many moments in each of our lives where we may wonder what, if any, purpose lies behind our journey and our fate – but we are looking at our gifts through the windows of the house we try to build for God, forgetting that God works beyond our sight and beyond our vision, and most often in unexpected ways. 

God doesn’t always give us what we want…But the key is, we have no idea what value we will be to others.  The gifts we receive may not be the gifts we choose, the gifts we wish for. You may feel like you have nothing to offer.  But our gifts impact people in ways we never expect.  That is part of God’s intended kingdom.  When we reach out and offer our love, our gifts, ourselves to others, we offer to be open to the unexpected ways God is using us to touch the world.

When Mary launches into song, the beauty of this song is not just that she recognizes the incredible impact this birth will have on her life. It is also that she sees her role as meaningful for others in the world, and that gives her life extra value.  Sometimes our fate is not entirely what we want for ourselves, but the role we play in other peoples’ lives; that which is hidden from our own vision, but viewable in God’s sight. 

To be of meaning to others, very often in unexpected ways, is the real meaning of Christmas, and the real gift God gives us.  May we all come to be servants to each other and trust in God’s gift.

Amen.