For Love: a sermon for Christmas Day

Preached on December 25, 2013 at the Church of the Holy Trinity, Manhattan. The Scripture readings this sermon is based on can be found by clicking here. 

Well, you can almost feel the calm returning, can’t you? Unlike the last few days, today will be a quite day throughout most of the city. There will be a lot less traffic. Less coming and going. And that’s because it’s almost over, almost a done deal, this Christmas 2013.

Santa Claus has come on Christmas Eve. There’s just the rest of today to get through, and then it’s time to see a bunch of movies, and get ready for New Year’s Eve. A lot of us will have a day or two off between now and then. Time to put our feet up, try on a new sweater or two, crack the spine on a new book perhaps.

Now, of course, if Christmas day is here and almost gone, the season of Christmas is just beginning, and as is our wont in the Episcopal Church, we’ll celebrate the Incarnation of God in the person of Jesus for the next several days, 12 days in total. But this day… This day is Christmas, the feast of the Nativity, the principle day on which the Incarnation is commemorated. And this day is one that is celebrated all over the world, in a wide variety of ways. Different places and times and cultures, in winter in some places and in summer in others.  There will be fireworks in some places, trips to the beach in others, sleigh rides in yet others.

And for all the breadth of people who celebrate it, and the plurality of ways in which it is celebrated in, what this day is about in essence is a very individual and singular event. For on this day, we celebrate the extraordinary fact that God became human, taking on our very flesh, a body just like yours and mine, and became one of us.

The theologians call this the Scandal of Particularity -- that Almighty God should deign to become human in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. And it is a bit of a scandal when you think of it. By what mechanism, for what reason, should the Eternal and Omnipotent God become a poor Jew, born on the edge of civilization, in a backwater of the Roman Empire, born in a stable, no less. The God who created the heavens and the earth has become a weak, vulnerable babe – mewling, whining, in frequent need of a change of swaddling clothes, no doubt. The majestic God has taken on such ignominious circumstances as our own…

Such a scandalous act, such a strange thing, such a literally wonder-full event. The great and glorious God as a single individual, the carpenter’s son, born of Mary, a young girl from Nazareth, born, as it turns out, while they were out of town, born while they were on the road, poor thing.

Why, for what possible reason, should such a thing come to pass?

For love.

St. John says it best, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son…” 

For love, that’s why God became a human being. For love of us, for love of you, each of you.

God loves you, and the miracle we celebrate today is proof of that fact. God loves you – with your sins and shortcomings, and with the kindnesses you do toward each other. God loves you with your 15 extra pounds, and your overdue library books, and your less than admirable feelings toward your ex. God loves you, who shed a little tear at the coffee commercials at Christmas. 

God loves you, when you keep going though you’re tired and your feet hurt and you want to give up. God loves you when you do give up. God loves you when it all gets you down. And God loves you when you get back up again. 

God loves you enough to give you his son, not a grand potentate, but a poor Jew, who taught a message of love and forgiveness and mercy and service. A carpenter by trade who was willing to undergo the most ignominious of public executions to show you the way past death and unto eternal life. 

After all the hustle and bustle, in the quiet that comes as Christmas Day fades into early evening and night. What is left in the quiet is a quite simple, undeniable reality: God loves you. Merry Christmas.

© The Rev. Mark R. Collins

The Gift of Christmas: A homily for the service of Lessons & Carols on Christmas Eve

Preached on Tuesday, December 24th at the Church of the Holy Trinity, Manhattan. The lectionary readings are here. And a brief explanation of the service of Lessons & Carols is found here. 

The point of a service of Lessons & Carols is that you let the Scripture and the song tell the story. There is really not much more to say, so, here’s your first Christmas gift, I will be brief. You're welcome.

But we do repeat this cycle, and tell this story every year at this time and it is worth a moment’s reflection. And the story, the whole story, is basically this. We were created by a loving God, and with that creation, we were given the freedom to do what we willed with the gift of our world, and the gift of ourselves. 

To no one’s surprise, least of all God’s, we misused that freedom, on some occasions. We did some things, thought some things, said some things, we acted and failed to act, in ways that were not worthy of that awesome gift of life and freedom.

But God did not abandon us. Far from it, God came closer. God became one of us, and in that, again awesome, gift of the Incarnation, God took on our own humanity, and lived out a life just like ours, with all the joys and laughter, and all the temptations and troubles that we face. 

And this person who was God yet one of us, Jesus, faced some trials of his own, figuratively, and then in the end, quite literally. He was a worry to his parents, when he stayed behind in the temple. He knew disappointments, as when his family didn’t understand his ministry, and his friends abandoned him. He lost his temper, as some money-changers in the temple can tell you. 

But also, this Jesus was a person who knew how to have a good time, he went to wedding feasts, and dinner parties, so much so that the partying he did and the party crowd he partied with caused some comment from his critics. If they’re saying you’re having too much fun, then you must be doing something right, right?

Then he ran afoul of the powers that be, but that didn’t stop him speaking his truth. He didn’t shut up really, until it was too late to do him any good. Then he was put to death. But then he rose again, and made our creation even more miraculous. For in that act, Jesus showed us how the gift of our creation, the gift of life was actually the gift of eternal life.

It’s an old story, but a compelling one still. And it’s a familiar story. Not only because we recount it every year, but because we live it. We all know, most of us, times when we’ve used our freedom poorly, when we’ve disappointed others, and when we’ve been disappointed. Sometimes we succumb to despair, but if we hang in there, many of us find a path that leads to a restoration of some kind. It’s as if the matrix of sin, repentance, redemption and resurrection leads us full circle to a point where we remember just how special and beloved of God we are, just how awesome is the gift of life, and we resolve to live in ways that are worthy of that gift. 

And maybe too, we lived in such perfect imitation of Christ that on one occasion or another, we’ve had enough fun to cause ‘em to talk. I hope so.

The gift of Christmas is this. Unlike the gift of creation, our creation, the gift of life and freedom -- all these are gifts from God. The gift of Christmas is the Gift of God, God’s self. It is a gift of what the old hymn calls blessed assurance, because Jesus is mine, and yours, and everyone’s. That’s really the first gift of Christmas, and the last, and the only one that really matters. And it is yours and mine and everyone’s, now and forever. Merry Christmas.