This sermon came to me in a dream--a vision of words clearly from God intended for this congregation--a proclamation of eternal truth presented in the form of angel voice and celestial vision--a word for the people of God gathered at Lutheran Church of the Holy Spirit on this 23rd day of December--only days before Christmas 2001. If that were only true
I did dream about this sermon for a couple nights recently but it was more nightmare than vision It is possible to have a dream--a vision--a word from God for those who believe. But more often what I have I suspect is as Ebenezer Scrooge suggests in Charles Dicken's Christmas Carol, "A slight disorder of the stomach, an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato." More gravy than grave to the vision, whatever it may have been. For some--the promise of a dream or vision shared contains the promise of great possibility--a possible glimpse into the spiritual insight long sought and hoped for. For others--any introduction that begins with the suggestion that the remarks were conceived while asleep probably means that you will soon be attempting to approximate the same state of mind--a dream induced sermon surely will induce a similar state in those who hear it--numbed by words that will be surely more removed from the realities of life than anything so far in the worship service. Yet dream--vision--hope--this is the stuff of which our lessons for today are made--and so also we encounter a centering point for our final preparations for Christmas. Today we are asked to look again at the familiar--the too common--and discover something extraordinary. What most of us have been doing for these four weeks of Advent leading up to Christmas is taking the ordinary and making something special. A tree--a card--a sock or stocking--even a need or want or desire--common forms are now becoming uncommon-special--vehicles through which we express or discover emotions we might otherwise have suppressed or overlooked.
Most of us have spent enormous amounts of time, energy, thought and even money trying to find the right words or the right gift. The gospel lesson for today is the other Christmas story we find in the New Testament--Tomorrow night most of us will encounter the traditional Christmas story told by Luke with shepherds and angel choirs--but Matthew gives us a vision in a dream to a troubled man and a prophet's words--the ordinary trials of every day transformed into the hope for all humanity. Joseph had a tough decision to make--his anticipated marriage to Mary was definitely not going according to plans--in fact, he had resolved to call the whole thing off when he had the dream--an angelic dream-with the promise that as bad as things looked--something truly wonderful was about to happen. Every year as Christmas closes in on us there is a temptation to resolve to call the whole thing off. The popular book by John Grisham entitled "Skipping Christmas" probably says it all--the advertising--the commercialism--the tinsel and the busy-ness threaten to overwhelm us. But there is the vision--maybe it is the voice of the angel--maybe it is the moral and spiritual compass of decades of faith journeying. Every once in a while I find myself recognizing in the shopping and blinking Christmas lights--the eggnog and fruit cake--the jingle bells and Santa Claus and Rudolph and Bing Crosby the indirect reflection of parts of the Christmas story--parts that have become infused into even the most secular aspects of a general cultural festival--that is now celebrated around the world. My eyes of faith know what I see--and I take joy and yet feel a certain sadness in the distorted refractions of the divine in Christmas trees become holiday sprouts and holy lights transformed into patriotic colors.
On this fourth Advent--in the final count down to Christmas--it is wonderful to again discover the many ways in which something ordinary becomes special. What is sad is how easily we have come to be able to take that which is extraordinary and make it common and empty of meaning or value. There was a time when the world was thought to be enchanted with supernatural forces and spirits that burst into life and sometimes turned things upside down. A virgin birth--astrological events predicting the birth of a king--heavenly choirs singing to shepherds and angels speaking in dreams were all part of God's creation--It wasn't magic--that is a misguided interpretation of something far more wonderful and complex It was--it is--God's active presence in the world. The ordinary made holy--the setting apart of a time--a place--a feeling. Unpacking the ornaments to put them on the Christmas tree--and there in the box discovering a child crafted shape that is quite honestly ugly--yet crafted by one of the boys years ago--an ornament that means more than all the store bought silver and gold--the ordinary made special-holy. You unwrap the gift--and it is so perfect--so right--not because of what it is but because of who chose it. You unwrap the gift and discover it is something he made for you. You could easily buy something better but it would not be like this. Holy--set apart--a holy night--If you miss it--the time is gone--never to return--Keeping Christmas--even the most secular find themselves humming the tunes--An event that has inspired more art--more music--more giving and sharing then any other event in history.--For all the division and evil our human hearts have wrought in the name of religions--there is no denying that this moment--this Christmas--transcends the divisions. An ordinary birth in an ordinary time to two very ordinary parents becomes a holy moment. Dreams--visions--angels--the meaning of it all is felt more than known. But the extra-ordinary becomes too common. We drain the wonder by looking for a scientific explanation--or we fear the darkness of suffering and death so we abandon faith. For decades--centuries--millennia--this has been our too human condition. The year now ending has once again brought us to the brink of terror and despair--the world has been there many times before. Some 750 years before the birth of Christ the Middle East was in about the same shape as it is today--conspiracies and alliances abounded--militarily powerful nations threatened smaller nations with demands that they support the larger nation's interests or face obliteration. Economic stability was maintained at the expense of the lesser and more easily exploited people of the world. King Ahaz of Judah had tried to make every deal he could but nothing seemed to work--and it was then that the prophet Isaiah came to him.
Now if the prophet's words had been left in the 8th century B.C. we would probably have long since forgotten them--but the Gospel writer of Matthew found in Isaiah's words something truly extraordinary. "A virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him emmanuel," which means, "God is with us." What the prophet told the King to do was trust--trust in the promise--trust in the people--trust in your God. That is not the way of the world--we build our international alliances--we develop our security defense systems--When a stranger walks through the doors asking for assistance we are immediately suspicious--We like to define where and when we will find our God. But the story of Christmas is not about convenience or practicality--Joseph had certainly not planned to begin his life with Mary in the manner described by the writer of Matthew--In fact, their relationship appeared to be over even before it began--and then came the dream. On the brink of a personal and too human tragedy--a collapsing marriage relationship while still only engaged--a word from God transforms judgment and condemnation into the grace to discover a new life-a child--born of an unwed mother--a child embraced by a love that made a family where there was none The miracle of the incarnation--of God coming into our world--is the miracle of grace and love that transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary--the common becomes special--special beyond any expectation--anticipation--or explanation. A dream-a vision--the important thing about dreams is not that we dream them but that we remember them and live differently because of the vision we have had.
Isaiah pointed to the birth of a child as proof of God's promise and presence. The Gospel writer takes us one step closer to reality by declaring that the child is not only God with us but God incarnate. To believe that God has indeed become one with us challenges us to discover our unity with all that surrounds us. The faith that proclaims Christ in the world does so not as a confession of a past historical event--God is not bound by our time or our history--the Christ who entered the world once continues to enter the world--enter our world. We now know that God was not just concerned about our sin--Christ entered into a sinful world to reveal a better way--God did not just give us over in our sinfulness to death--but Christ revealed a way to new life-eternal life. Incarnation--God with us--means that we also are called to live as incarnations of this Christ--of God with others--so we do not just express concern for the homeless but we make the food and give of ourselves sitting-talking-caring--watching through the night that the homeless may sleep in peace at the PADS shelter. We do not just feel sadness for those who suffer the death of a loved one--we touch--listen--are present in the midst of grief and celebrate the life lived and the life to come. This is no Christmas dream that is offered on this fourth Advent--this is a vision of God with us. God with us as we try to understand a world where innocent die and evil still lives on--God with us as we discover our gifts--our resources and blessings given that we might give of ourselves to others even as Christ game himself for us. God with us in the quiet--and the noise--of a holiday season--God with us in the crowds and as we walk alone--God with us as we make the final preparations to discover in an ordinary December night the miracle once again--the great promise of Emmanuel--God with us.
Amen.
