Thankful Memorial, Chattanooga
December 24, 2019
Year A, Christmas Eve

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

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Listen again to the Christmas story in a nutshell:

“[Joseph] went [to Bethlehem] 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…”

Those three verses from the gospel of Luke total 52 words.  Only 52 words are needed to give us the basics of what happened on this holy night.  And yet, contained in those words is so much more. 

I recently heard an interview with a children’s book illustrator named Laura James.[i]  She talked about getting the poem for a book about a little girl’s hair that she was hired to illustrate.  “There really weren’t that many words,” James said.  “And I was like, OK. So it’s about hair. But, you know, where is this girl? So I had to […] put her in different situations. So she’s in the museum. She’s at the library. […] she’s basically going around the city with different hairdos.”  James went on to say how she drew from her own Caribbean heritage in her illustrations, using lots of bold colors.

Isn’t that the beauty of children’s stories?  The narratives are so simple.  There just aren’t “that many words,” as James says.  And so they leave us with the space between the words to dream up the details, to bring our own stories to this story, to add our colors, share them with others and marvel at the ways in which someone else has colored in those spaces so differently.

“[Joseph] went [to Bethlehem] 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…”

This isn’t a children’s story, but it’s sparse enough in the details to invite us into the spaces between the words.  How might we illustrate this Christmas story?  We can put Mary and Joseph in different situations.  Maybe we can imagine them traveling to Bethlehem as part of a caravan.  Perhaps an older woman there sees heavily-pregnant Mary on a donkey and offers a word of encouragement: oh sister, despite this dust, you’re radiant!  Perhaps they stop for a rest beneath the shade of a tree, pass around the bottle of water, break off bits of pita bread and enjoy each other’s company.  When they get to Bethlehem, Joseph helps Mary off the donkey and when she looks at him with doubt – are you still here?  will you stay with me? – maybe he rubs her aching back in answer.  And when she goes into labor perhaps Joseph runs to the inn nearby and brings back some of the women staying there and they come and help Mary through the last moments, coaching and comforting her among the lowing cattle and chewing camels until the baby, finally, wonderfully, is born.

Here’s how I would color in the spaces between the words of Luke’s gospel: Mary and Joseph took a journey – both physical and spiritual – that required a huge amount of faith, which is to say trust in one another, and trust in God.  It was a journey that required listening for and discerning the will of God in their lives and acting on it.  It was a journey that required a lot of courage in the face of uncertainty and a lot of hard work – in Mary’s case, some very real labor.  But in spite of the enormity of what they were doing, they, like any one of us, could only enact such faith and discernment and courage and labor moment by moment.  Theirs was a journey that could only ever be taken by putting one foot in front of the other, step by step.  The world changing events of the first Christmas took shape through Mary and Joseph’s daily interactions and encounters, the human situations they found themselves in: kind words passed between weary travelers, a moment of rest on a dusty road, a soft touch between husband and wife, a deep breath and a hard push to birth a miraculous baby. 

And, friends, on this Christmas, listen to this: We, too, are invited to move forward on our journeys of faith, step by step, day by day, moment by moment.  We, too, are discerning the will of God for us in the mundane trappings of our lived experience, our regular humanity.  And we, too, are called to face the sorrows and uncertainties, the challenges and the choices in our day-to-day existence with courage and trust.  This is what faith looks like: a kind word passed between strangers, a moment of peace in the midst of our busy lives when we know the presence of God, a hug between friends that reminds another that we are not alone, the work of our hands or our minds to accomplish something good.   

They may seem so minor, so fleeting, but these are the things that lead us to the Christ.  Even more astonishing, these are the ways that God’s Spirit moves within us, enabling us, just like Mary and Joseph, to deliver Christ to the world, to all those who yet walk in darkness, seeking that great light.  We, too, are called to be discerning and courageous, faithful and diligent in our everyday moments so that, amazingly, miraculously, we might also become bearers of God, giving birth to the light of Christ even and especially in the ordinary circumstances of our human existence. 

As you leave here tonight to make the dinner and wash the dishes, to wrap the last few presents, or to enjoy the company of family and friends, remember that you are even now and always, coloring in the spaces of your story as one who brings Christ’s light to the world.  And may we “daily be renewed by [God’s] Holy Spirit, through our Lord Jesus Christ” that we may live fully into this extraordinary, everyday calling with discerning, courageous and faithful hearts.  Amen.  Merry Christmas. 

[i] Interview heard on NPR’s Weekend Edition.  “This Book Teaches Kids The Concept Of ‘Boonoonoonous’ (It’s A Good Thing).”  Dec. 15, 2019.  https://www.npr.org/transcripts/787175624