Christmas Eve, A Draft

Good news; but if you ask me what it is, I know not;
It is a track of feet in the snow,
It is a lantern showing a path,
It is a door set open.

-G.K. Chesterton    1874-1936

Christmas Eve Sermon, 2018

As I prepared for tonight, I stumbled upon a Christmas poem written by poet, theologian and wit, G.K. Chesterton.

“Good news; but if you ask me what it is, I know not;
It is a track of feet in the snow,
It is a lantern showing a path,
It is a door set open.”

I puzzled over his words, and initially passed them over, but then I remembered something.

I remembered, how I once got lost in the woods.

I remembered, the deer trail I had followed assuming it was the path.

I remembered, how afraid I felt upon realizing that I had no idea which way to go.

I remembered, the immense sense of relief I had when I heard a noise that sounded like cars in the distance.

I remembered, the joy I felt when I finally found my way home.

I had found my way. I was safe. I was lost no longer.

And, so his words,

“Good news; but if you ask me what it is, I know not;
It is a track of feet in the snow,
It is a lantern showing a path,
It is a door set open.”

Good news indeed! Because, what a relief, what a relief, to find a way out of the wilderness!

But not simply a way out, a way towards. A way towards a place where we shall all find a welcome, a welcome in the midst of the ineffable, all-encompassing love of God.

Held this night, in discrete human form.

And, so tonight guided by the light of the heavens, we will follow the shepherds to the One who will lead us all--lead us out of the wilderness and into that new creation where all shall be welcome.

And, what a night it is! To find ourselves, once again, welcomed into that great and holy mystery which is the Word made flesh for the love of all.

The path is clear, the door is open, and you are welcome!

You are welcomed, just as you are, to be part of this night in this place and to experience the relief that comes when we have been found!

So welcome!

Welcome, you who are lost.

You who are weary.

You who are lonely. Welcome!

You who are joyful.

You who are grieving.

You who are fearful. Welcome

Welcome!

Because this is your night, the night when all of our hopes and all of our fears converge into one infant breath. Tonight, we have been shown a way--a way out of the wilderness and into the life to which God has called us.

Glory to God in the highest, indeed! We have been given a way! A way to live, a way to be, a way upon which we can find ourselves part and parcel of God’s hope for all creation.

So, let us rejoice, because God in human flesh has transcended the heavens so that we might know the way of love. We have been given a way on this holy night when the stars guide us, once again, to a baby. A baby born into one small family, in a small room, in a small town—a baby whose size belies the earth shattering, heaven quacking difference that his birth has made.

On this night, our greatest fears give way to the greatest of hopes.  

“For the grace of God has appeared”

And, in the face of such grace, we fall to our knees.

We fall to our knees to worship, in truth, the good news that has been born anew.

Born anew on this night of exultation.

This night that changes everything.

This night, when the long wait has come to an end and a new life has begun.

Begun in the dark of a stable, where a woman wonders at the baby upon her breast.

Newly made, a mother.

Newly made, a child.

Hush, be still.

Peace, be still.

“to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord”

The Messiah fusses to be held. The Savior roots in his sleep.

Hush, be still.

Peace, be still.

Nothing will ever be the same.

And together we shall find our way.

Amen.