The Only Proper Response

St. Paul’s United Methodist Church
Christmas Story, Rev. Marianne Niesen, December 24, 2008

 

As I pondered a message for tonight, I was reminded of a poem I read almost 30 years ago.  Amazingly, I not only remembered the poem, I actually found the book on my shelf!  It is called Sharon’s Christmas Prayer by John Shea.  I have no idea where he is now but at that time, he was a parish priest, serving in my home territory, Chicago.  The poem goes like this . . .

 

She was five,
sure of the facts,
and recited them
with slow solemnity,
convinced every word
was revelation.
She said,
they were so poor
they had only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
to eat
and they went a long way from home
without getting lost. The lady rode
a donkey, the man walked, and the baby
was inside the lady.
They had to stay in a stable
with an ox and an ass. (tee-hee)
but the Three Rich Men found them
because a star lighted the roof.
Shepherds came and you could
pet the sheep but not feed them.
Then the baby was borned.
And do you know who he was?
Her quarter eyes inflated
to silver dollars.
The baby was God.
And she jumped in the air,
whirled round, dove into the sofa
and buried her head under the cushion,
which is the only proper response
to the Good News of the Incarnation.
 

Of course, we adults become more measured in our responses.  After all, we know it probably didn’t happen exactly like it says.   We know that many Christmas tales - like the ones that make themselves into the movies this season - are mostly fantasy.  We also know the end of the story that began on Christmas.  We know that, while Jesus may have started out adored by shepherds and kings alike, his life had a violent end - rejected by kings, shepherds and lots in between.

Yes, we know things.  Many of us have struggled this Christmas in ways we have not struggled before.  Money is tight. And, even if we are not feeling particularly pinched ourselves, we have only to listen to the news or read the papers to be told if we’re not worried, we ought to be!   I’m actually a bit surprised that someone hasn’t told us that the frigid temperatures we have experienced are a direct result of the stock market!  Or that the auto makers did it. Yes, we know things. We know how the world works. We know enough to be suspicious of Christmas mirth.

I don’t want to make light of very real problems.  They indeed exist. We are still at war.  Many of us have loved ones far from home in dangerous places.  Too many have lost their lives in this war.  The future seems a bit shakier for others of us as we look at our retirement portfolios.  Health care is too expensive and access is still too limited.  Just this past week, we remembered the 30+ people in Montana alone who died in 2008 from problems and complications directly related to homelessness.  Homelessness . . . right here in Helena. Life is not easy . . . which is precisely why we need to recover just a bit of little Sharon’s insight to the real power of the Christmas message.

However it happened, Christmas fundamentally means we are not alone.  God is with us. It might sound trite to those of us who know things . . . God - with us?  Look around!  Are you sure?  But, we’re here, gathered in church on a cold winter’s night because, sure or not, we want to believe it.

And our children can help us.  Their wonder, their delight, their faith reminds us that this good news is worth a look!  Indeed, it is jump-in-the-air-twirl-around-and-squeal news. We are not alone. God does not simply look down on us or even watch over us - Christmas says that God joined with us then and joins us still.   Where meek souls will receive him still, the dear Christ enters in.

So we gather here, taking refuge from the cold in a church, surrounded by other seekers.  It helps – doesn’t it?  I love seeing the lights brightening the darkness. I love seeing all of you - many familiar - and some unfamiliar.  I love the carols and the music and the stories.  I love the fact that at a time and place when we are fearful about the future, we still take tags off a giving tree and get gifts for people we don’t know.  I love knowing that halfway around the world, in Angola, there are people (who know more about economic distress than we can imagine) whose lives will be better because of our Christmas offering. I love knowing that   people right in Helena will be touched because we remember Food Share tonight.  Yes, Christmas transforms us despite everything around us that warns be afraid, be very afraid.  There is power in Christmas.  Children – like Sharon – know that.

Let’s let the power and the wonder of the season touch us this year.  Let’s let the excitement of the children get inside us.  And, when we go home tonight, let’s take a moment to look at the nativity scene - on a Christmas card or in a creche - and marvel at the mystery of it all.  God is with us in this world of our which is also God’s.  The problems are real but so is that divine presence.  Just for tonight, let’s let go of our measured response and become children again.  A little later, when no one is looking, try burying your heads in your pillows in sheer amazement at the wonder of it all.  For Christmas reminds us that there is an eternal bail out plan, born in the crib of Bethlehem.  God is with us, thank God!