The events that we are celebrating tonight—the events that happened in the Judean hill country in the distant past–recall for me events in an even more remote past. I refer to those during the time of the prophet Elijah, about the 9th century before Christ. The connection between the two may not seem immediately obvious. But hopefully it will become clear in due course.
Elijah was a fierce prophet. He stood up against the false prophets of the god Baal, proving himself a defender of the true God of Israel. On one occasion, he had a face-off with the false prophets. He’d built an altar and challenged them to summon their god Baal. If Baal appeared, then he would be the god Israel worshipped. When they failed to summon him, Elijah called down fire from heaven, which consumed the offerings on the altar. Elijah then had the false prophets arrested and brought down to the Kishon valley, where he had them killed by the sword.
Elijah should have done a victory dance. But that’s not what happened. You see, Jezebel, the evil queen, who’d sided with the prophets of Baal, threatened Elijah’s life. The prophet lost his nerve and fled from her. After traveling forty days and nights, he arrived at Mount Horeb, the mountain of God. Finding shelter in a cave, he poured out his heart to God. He’d had enough. He couldn’t keep up the fight any longer.
The Lord visited Elijah that day. There was a violent wind that tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks, but the Lord was not in the wind. Then came a powerful earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a blazing fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. Finally, there came to him in the gentleness of the evening breeze a still, small whisper. Elijah pulled up his cloak around his face and stood at the mouth of the cave. He was in the presence of the Lord.
These events teach us how our God desires to be with us. They point to how our God wants to make himself present to us. God comes to us not in an overpowering display of glory, majesty and power, which would only crush and destroy. Rather, God comes to us in a still, small whisper, in the gentleness of an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
Reflecting on this mystery, spiritual writer and Benedictine monk Anselm Gruen writes: “There is no one—no matter how hardened—who would not be affected by the sight of a child, who would not let his hardened face break into a smile. God’s heart and tenderness are revealed to us all in this gentle child.”
In the tranquility of this manger scene, God reveals that he comes to us in peace. God’s desire for us, a sinful race, who are at war with him, with one another, and within ourselves, is peace. Jesus is the true Savior and Lord. It is he who brings true peace, not Caesar Augustus, who had been celebrated by his court poet Virgil as the emperor of peace (A. Gruen).
That is why the birth of this child is good news of great joy for all peoples. Last Sunday we saw that the good news of God’s salvation produces a joy that cannot be contained. It animates the body and moves the tongue. This applies as much to angels as it does to us. An angel of the Lord is the first to proclaim the good news on this holy night. The shepherds are the first to receive it. And they cannot stand still. They have to go and see for themselves. And once they do, they “go tell it on the mountains that Jesus Christ is born,” in the words of the well-known Christmas hymn.
The angels and shepherd scene is important to Luke. We say this because the gospel writer devotes the greater part of his narrative to it. It has significance for us too, because the Christmas message that the angel announces is addressed not only to the shepherds, but also to us. And we in turn should emulate the shepherds.
That means, among other things, that we should keep the night watch, so that we are not lulled into complacency and sleep away our lives. And we should endure our own night and be open to good news, even in those moments of black despair when good news strikes us as a cruel joke. If we do remain open, then our night becomes not a dark night but rather a holy night—a Christmas night, in the words of Anselm Gruen. Then God’s glory, which shone around the shepherds, will shine in our hearts, turning our darkness into light.
When our hearts are open to the good news, we are prepared to go in search of Jesus. “You will search for me and find me if you search with all your heart.” This is the gracious promise that God made to the exiles in Babylon through the prophet Jeremiah. That promise is extended to the shepherds on this night. “They went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger.”
And that is why we are here tonight. We too have come to this place of worship to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us through his Word and his Spirit, who opens our eyes to see it and our hearts to receive it.
When they find Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger, they stay long enough to behold him, to contemplate him in wonder and amazement. They recall the words of the angel and make known to the parents what they’ve been told.
We too should behold him. We’ve come to this place of worship to contemplate him in wonder and amazement, reflecting on all that we’ve been told in God’s word about him.
Mary’s heart is open to receive all that the shepherds have to tell her. And she “treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” This is congruent with what we saw in Mary last Sunday. St. Augustine is surely right when he says that Mary was more pleased to bear Christ in her heart than to bear him in her body.
The two verbs that Luke uses to describe Mary’s experience are rich in nuance, helping us to grasp better what must have been going on inside her.
The first suggests that Mary understands the words that she heard together with the events in the manger and those in her own life. That is to say, she sees how they relate to her own life, her own experience.
Here again Mary shows us how she is the model of the Christian, just as we saw last Sunday. For this is our task too. We need to bring together everything that we have heard and seen at Christmas with our own lives, so that we may live out those truths in our daily routines, in our relationships with others.
The second suggests that Mary let these words move between her head and heart. She not only wants to ponder them in her mind, but also to feel in her heart what has happened to her and what is taking shape in her life as a result.
This too offers a lesson for us. We should let the story penetrate head and heart so that we can participate with our whole selves in God’s love, which has entered into history and appeared to us all.
The events that we are celebrating tonight—the events that happened in the Judean hill country in the distant past become present to us in their celebration. We participate tonight in what Luke has described to us. We become eyewitnesses to what has happened and spectators of the divine drama (A. Gruen). The good news the angel announces to the shepherds extends to us too, as we have already mentioned.
My hope is that all here have accepted this good news. If we have, then let us confess that through the birth of Jesus, heaven and earth are reconciled. God’s glory appears on high, and God’s peace appears below on earth (A. Gruen). God delights in the human race, on whom his favor rests. We have reason to join together with the shepherds and the angels in a chorus of praise.
And as we do, we look forward to that day when all will join us. For the significance of this day is made known today to us the church, but it remains hidden from the world because of unbelief.
And yet this infant grows to be a king on whose shoulders God’s government rests. And of the increase of this government and peace there shall be no end. He will reign upon the throne of his father David and will order and establish it with judgement and justice from here to all eternity (Isaiah 9:2-7). To God be the glory forever and ever.
May the love brought to each and every one of you this night by the Child in the manger, fill your minds and your hearts with hope this Christmastide and throughout the new year that lies ahead. Amen.