Christmas Eve
Isaiah 9:2-7 • Psalm 96 • Titus 2:11-14 • Luke 2:1-20
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!" When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us." So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.
Sometimes even worship bloopers—improvisations on familiar worship actions—can speak profound truths about the message God speaks to us in worship.
A few months ago Marlo Thomas, a folk artist from the seventies, was giving an interview on the radio about growing up, and she was talking about being raised in the church. She loved to play practical jokes on her priest. One day she and her friend decided to try their most daring stunt yet. Now some background about Roman Catholicism helps set the stage here. Roman Catholics believe that during holy communion, when the priest blesses the elements of bread and wine, these elements actually become Jesus’ very flesh and blood. And often in Roman Catholic churches, right after the words of institution, the ringing of bells signifies this transformation. Well Marlo, with her friend, decided to steal those bells from the altar, so their priest could not ring them at this very pious, holy moment in worship. So during mass they sat there, trying not to giggle, and when the priest finished raising up the bread, “Do this in remembrance of me”, he knelt down and reached for the little set of bell chimes that were usually within reach. Only they were not there! What was he going to do? What would happen if the bells weren’t rung? Would that mean Jesus would not become present in this meal? He would not let that happen! SO what does he do? “Ding-a-ling-a-ling! Ding-a-ling-a-ling!” the priest shouted. Marlo and her friend could barely contain themselves with laughter. And again the priest raises up the cup and says “Do this in remembrance of me.” The priest knelt down. “Ding-a-ling-a-ling! Ding-a-ling-a-ling!” Marlo and her friend of course gave themselves away as the culprits by their shrieking and howling with laughter, proud that they had provoked the priest’s improvisation.
We Lutherans have a slightly different belief in Holy Communion: the bread and wine, we believe, still remain bread and wine after the pastor’s blessing, but they do contain the true presence of Jesus “in, with and under” these earthly signs that are means of Jesus’ forgiving grace. We do not have a “ding-a-ling-a-ling” sound at that moment in the liturgy…but we do yearn and pray for Jesus to be truly present, given to us in his meal…a yearning that we preface with the highest words of praise in our whole worship service, words that echo a song sun on the night of Jesus’ birth—the thunderous song of the angels that appear in the cold night air to the shepherds: “Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of your glory. ‘Hosanna in the highest.’ (Lk 2:14) Blessed is the one who comes in your name.”
These words are our “ringing of the bells”, our “ding-a-ling-a-ling”, a song sung song with those angels on a night like this, a song of anticipation and praise of God’s work in the world in Christ. And as that song rings with anticipation, just before the blessing of the elements, it reminds us of another set of bells that ring in each of our homes, a sound that speaks of similar kind of anticipation that our threshold is wanting to be crossed. Doorbells, the sound indicating a guest has arrived—a sound guests make from outside as they push a button, clamoring to enter through the door and into safety—this bell is the sound of expectation, of arrival, of the end of waiting and the end of a long journey.
Tonight the angels’ song announcing good news of great joy rings as a door bell announcing throughout the whole world that God has heard our ringing of the door bells for protection, for comfort, for forgiveness, for salvation. In Jesus’ birth, God opens the doorway to a Savior for us, waiting to receive us. The cosmic doorway between God and humanity has been forever opened and Jesus will never let it be shut. The song of the angels rings as a heavenly doorbell, announcing the arrival of the will of God revealed for the world, and Jesus’ birth does not signal a closed door, where God does not answer, where no one is at home, but his birth hails God’s open door policy with us—God’s open door of loving-kindness, peace and fidelity to us.
As the shepherds receive this good news from an angel, Luke says the shepherds “were terrified.” (2:9) They were overwhelmed with fear, wonder and amazement at the appearance of a messenger of God. They were astounded by the piercing light that poured out of from the normally empty and dark night sky. But the angel’s message to them , “do not be afraid”, can also be translated, “stop reverencing me”, as in, “do not get lost in awe of me and the singing of this holy, holy, holy hymn of praise…listen to the message itself: the Messiah is born this day!” As lost as we can get in our love of the ringing of the door bell—the sound of music that announces the good news of Jesus’ birth—the angels’ words speak to us as well, asking us to stop and hear these messengers’ message: a message that God embraces us…in a most unconventional way, not by coming in a high and mighty palace, but in a lowly manger, born of peasant parents in a barn.
This message of God’s embrace of our weakness, a message that hums underneath the events of the story of Jesus’ birth, puts to silence the powers of death that try to keep the angels’ song from ringing in our ears. No matter how silent our human frailty may make us, no matter how powerful death may seem to be at silencing us…the song of God’s love in Christ cannot be kept silent. As much as Jesus cannot stay locked in a silent grave, as much as a pastor cannot keep from shouting the ringing of the communion bells, as much as we cannot help but cry Joy to the World, the Lord is come this Christmas Eve…even more so…God cannot withhold God’s love for the world.
This song is a song that rings on in the shepherds as they flock to see this thing that has happened, and it rings on in us this night. These very bells of our church that now ring could very well be ringing on their last Christmas Eve. These bells may be coming down in a few months’ time due to the necessary dismantling of our bell tower. Each bell is inscribed in Norwegian with the good news of the angels: “Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace among those whom God favors!” (2:14) But even if these bells are silenced, God’s song cannot be withheld from ringing loud and clear in us. Children often say “every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings”; well this night the bells are ringing and we all receive our wings to become God’s messengers of good news to the world. Go, dear angels, and sing it out, ring it out, ring the all doorbells of the neighborhood! We have a message to tell; good news to share: God’s doorway has opened forever with the embrace of Jesus. Amen.
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