All over our country these days there are young children, Sunday school boys and girls, trying to memorize the piece that they will say at some Christmas pageant or Sunday school program at the church. You know how hard that is—words which they cannot pronounce. Parents encourage them and threaten them and somehow they get out there for the pageant. On one such terrorizing occasion, after I had blurted out my verse, on my way back to my seat I said, (I thought it was under my breath, but evidently it was loud enough for everyone to hear it) "I'm glad that's over."
My favorite story about memorizing is from a five-year—old boy named Kyle. Entranced with the Christmas story as Luke told it, he read it often enough that he memorized it. One night his mother and father suggested that Kyle recite what he had learned to guests who had come to visit. He started out, launched into it and did beautifully until he got to the part where the angels appeared to the shepherds and said to them, "Glory to God in the highest," and then his mind went blank. He froze and couldn't say anything. His mother encouraged him to start again so he started again and got to the same place, "Glory to God in the Highest." Nothing. Finally it came to him, "And I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in." 1
Luke's story, not Kyle's version but the original, was an unusual story compared to the traditional way of composing history. Luke's approach to history was articulated many years later by a pair of historians, Will and Ariel Durant, who were husband and wife for sixty-eight years, and historians together. Their greatest work was an eleven-volume work entitled "The Story of Civilization."
Will Durant saw history differently from the other historians of his day, more than governments and wars. He said, "Civilization is like a river with banks, and the river is sometimes filled with blood and violence, fighting, stealing and shouting, all the things that historians like to record. While on the banks, unnoticed, people build houses and make love and raise children and write music and poetry and even whittle statues. The story of civilization, the real story, is the story of what's happening on the banks of the river."2
Luke wants us to understand that. He mentions Caesar Agustus and Herod and Quirinius, all the political leaders of the day whom historians would be interested in, those who are seemingly calling the shots which will insure the Roman Empire for ever and ever. But Luke is more interested in what's going on in the life on the banks, in the backwaters, in the hill country of Judea, in Bethlehem.
For example, consider the story of Mary… she is of peasant stock. Of course historians would not have noticed her; their eyes were on Jerusalem, the center of power and wealth and influence. But Luke reminds us that God does not depend on the political, economic or cultural centers of power. Mary was a teenager, pregnant out of wedlock. If she had lived today we might have said she was a troubled girl. A girl in trouble.
In the encounter between Elizabeth and Mary, which is in our scripture, we find a significant and provocative sentence. In the 45th verse of the first chapter Elizabeth says of Mary, "Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord."
Luke wants us to focus on this woman, Mary, unnoticed by historians. Blessed is she, blessed is she, blessed is she who believed that God would do what God had promised. It's astounding that Luke would say something like this in a patriarchal culture.
Someone has said that Mary is the first disciple because she is a model of discipleship, living what God wants all of us to do by trusting our lives into God's keeping, God's grace; to live day by day and experience by experience with the trust that God will bring what God has promised. God has the power to keep the promise.
These contemporaries say that the first disciple was not Peter, but the first disciple was really Mary because she believed completely, whole—heartedly, that God would deliver. She trusted God even when she was perplexed. She trusted God when she knelt at the foot of the cross while her son was dying. She trusted God when she felt rejected.
Christmas is not a happy time for some. There are those who are lonely because they find themselves estranged and in difficult places. There are those who are torn by separation from those whom they love very much, either in terms of space, or by death, or by alienation. Yet they are held by the belief that the promise of God will come true. God will bring us home. God will bring justice to the world. God will bring reconciliation and healing.
We've had some difficult times this year in the life of our congregation. The murder of one of our church's youth, the accusation of her brother, the pain and the agony of their family have been wrenching and heartbreaking. Your pastors and lay leaders have tried to minister to this family and to our congregation with the love and the caring of Jesus. In the months that we have been buffeted by this tragedy we've struggled with the forces of fear, anger, disappointment, and yes, God's grace. Through it all we are held by the promise that God will bring justice, reconciliation and healing.
These are dark and tumultuous times in the life of our nation. Our President has been impeached. Our political representatives are engaged in a take-no-prisoner's civil war which will forever change the way politics are practiced in our nation. If there was ever a time to pray for God's spirit to move upon the savage impulses which have been set loose, to bring forgiveness and reconciliation to a battered people, this is the time.
As Christians who live in the shadow of the manger of the Lord of love we believe that God's promised grace will bring us deliverance from the darkness.
Sam was three years old and attended The Little School of Seattle which met in the basement of a church and kept its general supplies in the foyer of the women's restroom. Sam discovered this treasure trove one morning late in November. Therein was a king-sized canister full of red glitter. Upside-down, over his head, all over the restroom, down the hall, around the corner, into the director's office. Before anyone could reprimand Sam, he sang out, laughter on his face, "You know what? You know what? There's Christmas in the bathroom." There's Christmas in the bathroom.
As Robert Fulghum, who tells the story, goes on to say, "Christmas is and ever will be found where it's looked for… hidden away in the cupboards of our lives waiting to be rediscovered in a rebirth of wonder. Waiting to be dumped over our heads like blessing oil. Waiting to be scattered like red glitter on the walls and hallways of dark December. Christmas will be found in closeted memories, visions, hopes, fears, half forgotten songs and muddled stories of a child of long ago, and in the story of a child named Sam. Christmas will be found…by those who know how to see."3
Blessed is she who believed that God has the power to fulfill the promise of love, forgiveness and reconciliation. And blessed are you if you believe that too.
Amen.
2. Thanks to Rev. Mark Trotter.
Gracious God, giver of life, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, you have cared for your human family across every generation. You care for us. You know us and call out to us, children lost in the dark evening shadows as we play at hide and seek, not even realizing we have wandered so far and lost our way. In your word is the light and warmth of home, a place waiting for us, welcoming arms, a gentle voice that comforts, the hope and promise of life spent in meaningful work, and holy love. Yet each year, Lord, as we wait through this Advent time we discover anew that we can grow further still, we have still not returned to you the love which you have given. Our anticipation of Christmas reminds us that there are still places in our lives where the light of Christ has not penetrated and where we still hide in the shadows rather than step forward, ready to know and be known. Help us to affirm in our minds what our hearts cry out to say: "Come Holy Spirit, Come Child of Bethlehem and make us your own today."
Lord, as we prepare for Christmas we remember that it was into troubled times that Jesus came. We also live in a troubled time and, though we do not all share the same hardships of life known to Mary and to Joseph, we know that deep within our human hearts the heavy loads of other generations are not far from us. We offer thanks for the wonders of the age in which we live; wonders of medicine, communication, and technology. Gifts of representative government and the freedom to worship. These blessings have lifted so many burdens from us. Yet we still must pray for peace on earth, and for good will among your people. We still must pray for the very gifts your angel messengers offered to the shepherds so long ago. 0 God, who has given us these gifts in Jesus, help us to receive them.
And so we pray for peace, knowing you have offered us peace and we pray for good will, knowing that you have already given us the means to have it. The long wait for these blessings to come is yours, not ours Lord. We know that, so help us to help our nation and our world. We pray for our President and his family. We pray for our Congress. We pray for those who have committed themselves to the nation's defense, especially those who are in places of conflict and danger, those who wait, ready to serve. Yet we know we cannot pray for these alone, but for all who need you. Our prayers reach out to all in need of redemption, all who are in danger, all who struggle with hard and momentous decision. Learning from Jesus, we pray even for those we characterize as our enemies, for they too belong to you. We pray for ourselves, as we may share in the shaping of the world to come, for we know that such matters rest finally in your hands, and we ask for faith enough to follow you. Thus we add prayers for our church among those we offer for great and weighty matters. For here is the community founded by your son, to be his living body in the world. Guide us to be bold and faithful, and loving in our exercise of our discipleship.
In the spirit of Christ, we pray then, in love for each one of your children. We pray for those who are sick or in crisis. We pray for those who grieve, or whose memories of grief arise unhealed in this time of year. We pray for those who suffer want or need. We pray too, for those who hope, especially for those whose hope we may confirm by being good and faithful stewards of our own lives. Lord the names we hold in our hearts are planted there by your spirit. Let that spirit lead us to act and care as is needful and in keeping with the love shown us in Jesus. These things we ask in the name of him who taught us to pray… Our Father…