Taxes, Angels and a Baby

Sermon given by the Rev. Christine Gowdy-Jaehnig on 24 December 2022

All Years : Christmas Eve

Isaiah 9:2-7 * Psalm 96 * Titus 2:11-14 * Luke 2:1-20

Luke begins his narrative by placing the story of the good news in its historic and political context, naming the Roman Emperor (Augustus), the governor (Quirinius) and, in the first chapter, the client king of Judea (Herod the Great). These are the big movers and shakers whose plans and decisions flow outward and downward, dispatching soldiers, moving people, and changing borders. Carpenter Joseph and his pregnant wife Mary are two of the tiniest pieces in the Empire’s schemes, of no interest to the powerful except as hatch-marks on their census tally sheet and check-marks on their list of taxpayers. The agendas of the leaders move them to the tiny town of Bethlehem, an inconvenient if not onerous trip. The bigwigs of the ancient world all think the story --the important story-- is about them: their daring deeds and victories, their accomplishments and wise or cunning decisions. But they are wrong.

Something is happening on a cold hillside near Bethlehem. A brilliant but terrifying messenger appears to a group of shepherds, scattering heavenly light that overwhelms their campfire. The angel makes a startling announcement: a baby has been born into the house of David, a Savior, the Anointed One. The messenger urges the shepherds to seek out and witness this baby’s arrival. It is then joined by thongs of others who have brought their rejoicing to earth for this unprecedented occasion. Luke writes that they say their praises, but I (and so many hymn writers) imagine angelic voices singing. Yes, words alone can adorn and celebrate important events, but add music and our hearts thrill or weep.

The shepherds hurry into town, and find Joseph and Mary, who has given birth to the baby. They have named him Jesus, as instructed by God, for Jesus is Aramaic for the Hebrew name Joshua, which means, “God saves.” Ordinary, humble and lowly are words that been applied to Mary and Joseph’s station in life and current situation in Bethlehem. And yet those who lived with and learned from the man that baby grew to be saw world-altering significance in his birth and life. The appearance of the angels with their heavenly glory, the message to the shepherds, all attest to the importance of this birth.

The messenger brings good news: a baby is born. Christmas has at its heart a birth story, the arrival of a new and healthy child into the world. Christmas joy overlaps with one of the most common of humanity’s joys. The baby lying in the manger, object of the shepherds’ intense and hopeful gaze, is not an ordinary baby. As Isaiah foretold it, this is the child who will bring to fruition God’s intention for all of Creation: everlasting peace, founded upon justice and righteousness. God’s will is made flesh in the weakest of human creatures –a little baby! More stunningly, this baby is “God with us,” a rejection of the belief that the world’s Creator sits aloof and transcendent.

The messenger announces good news to all people. It is God’s intention that all people stumbling in darkness see the Light kindled in Bethlehem. It is God’s hope that all welcome the good news joyously. It is God’s dream that we all live together with Him in endless peace. We may put up barriers against those of whom we are afraid and demonize those whom we detest; we may turn our backs on those who hunger and have no home; we may ignore the oppressed and imprisoned; but that is not God’s way. This baby reveals the steadfast love God has for all.

The messenger says that the good news is a cause for joy. C. S. Lewis wrote that the serious business of heaven is JOY. Heaven could not hold all the joy of this occasion and so it spilled out, producing the hillside anthem. Our joy partakes of heavenly joy; it does not come from the outside but from deep within us –like an alpine lake that is fed not by a river but by springs that well up in its depths. Joy is born from the mysterious actions of God in our hearts. This helps us understand how we can be joyful when we have read the newspaper, or the tweets and memes making the rounds. This joy is not a betrayal of those who suffer and sorrow. God is very much aware of the injustice and the malice, the messes and muddles, the wounds of the world; the birth of Jesus is integral to God’s work of setting things right and drawing all to himself. Then, as Wendell Berry wrote, let us, “Be joyful though [we] … have considered all the facts.”

A young man and his wife were expecting a baby. All during his wife’s pregnancy, he worried about many things, including climate change and what kind of a future humanity had on earth. After the child’s birth, when he held the small bundle in his arms, he felt a new hope he could not explain; all would be well. The Christmas message pushes against the atmosphere of despair and fear with the promise of renewal and fresh starts.

Suzanne Guthrie wrote: “[At my childhood Christmases] the excessive mound[s] of presents on Christmas morning disturbed me, without my understanding why. But because of Advent, the messages on the little doors of the [Advent] calendar and the hymns we sang, I knew this was not what I was waiting for.” The Christmas message draws us away from the exhausting orgy of consumerism into which our culture has turned Christmas, towards awe and wonder.

One December evening, Pastor Mark Ralls encountered a man in his church parking lot after an AA meeting. Mark invited him to the Christmas service and the man launched into the story of his life, which contained the regrets and loss that accompany addiction. It was his way of explaining why he couldn’t come; he wasn’t “good enough” to come with the shepherds and knee before the baby. The Christmas message reaches through the guilt and shame that holds us back, deep into our hearts. It insists that God meets where we are, as we are.

God comes to us incarnate, in flesh like ours, born in a humble dwelling in Judea. This baby comes as Savior, as the answer to our fervent prayers: “Help me, save me, fix things,” but he also comes as Emmanuel, the answer to our deepest prayers, “Love me, be with me, don’t leave me.” Rejoice!

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A Glimpse of Forever in our Now

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Joseph: Royal, yet so human