Christmas Eve

Called to Joy

Readings: Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-21

As Christians living in a secular world, we worry about keeping Christ in Christmas.  Christmas is celebrated amid tinsel, flashy decorations and mountains of wrapping paper.  It seems to have lost all religious significance.  But there is no doubt in anyone's mind that this is a time for joyous celebration. 

Nobody really discusses the matter.  There are many homes in Canada where no prayers are offered at Christmas, no carols are sung, no nativity stories are told.  But there can be few homes where Christmas is not seen as a time for celebration.  People like the feelings of joy and happiness surrounding Christmas.  They appreciate the warm ‘fuzzies’.  They greet each other in a different way.  They see it as a time to give and to receive gifts.  It is a time of outreach to the poor and to those in need.  Our world becomes transformed, a better place.  The celebration is everywhere.  One cannot miss it.  

As Christians, that can leave us at a loss somehow.  Our holy day is eroded, taken over, and somehow demeaned.  While the secular world celebrates and even becomes a better place, there is no place for Christ.  In our politically correct world we don’t even celebrate Christmas; we celebrate the holiday season. 

It is also difficult for those who are suffering a sense of loss for whatever reason.  The bereaved often feel a sense of alienation at Christmas time.  They feel as if they are out of step with the rest of society.  The whirlwind of parties and frivolity, the joyous festivities, everything reminds them of how much they have lost. 

It sets me to pondering, to pondering about the first Christmas, to remembering the Christmases of my childhood, to considering what is an authentic way to celebrate this holy season. 

The Christmas story is a poignant one.  Mary was pregnant out of wedlock.  Joseph was an apparent cuckold.  As if that was not enough, with Mary almost full term, they had to start out on a long and tedious journey.  It would have taken Mary and Joseph several days to walk from their hometown in Nazareth to Bethlehem.  They would have needed to find shelter during the cold nights.  There would have been few wayside inns even if they had enough money to pay for such a luxury.  And then once they arrived in Bethlehem along with all of the other people responding to the census, they faced the impossibility of finding a place to stay.  Jesus was born homeless, and in poverty. 

And yet the first Christmas was a time of great celebration.  Love was given and received and celebrated.  The message of the angels rang out on that holy night summoning the shepherds.  They got the message.  They hurried to the stable.  They praised and glorified the Lord while the rest of the world was absent. 

I can look back on many wonderful Christmases.  As children growing up in a rectory Christmas was a wonderful celebration.  There was midnight mass with all of its pageantry.  There was the quiet service on Christmas morning when we were allowed to take a toy to be blessed.  There were carols and decorations.  Santa always left a stocking, filled with toys and candy, a beautiful big orange stuffed in the toe.  There were always many presents under the tree.  I can conger up the wonderful odours of my mother’s mince tarts and Christmas pudding mingled with the aroma of turkey and stuffing.  Our ‘little mother’ as she was affectionately called was a truly amazing cook. 

While those memories of Christmas are wonderful, they do not represent my most authentic Christmas.  I spent some time teaching in a Residential School in Fort George on James Bay about two hundred air miles north of Moosonee.  Later a friend went there as the priest of the little Anglican Church in the village.  A mutual friend decided that, given my connection to Fort George, we should travel up there and spend Christmas with Donovan.  I reminded him that given the conditions at that time of the year we could very well run into difficulties.  He was determined that we should go, and so we made all the necessary arrangements.  We travelled by car to Cochrane, and then took the Polar Bear Express up to Moosonee.  We stayed overnight in Moosonee and then were to fly up the coast the following day.  Morning dawned completely overcast, and by the time we were to take off it was completely socked in.  We waited around for the whole day, but it became obvious that no planes would be able to travel before Christmas.  So the following morning, Christmas Eve we got back on the train and headed for home.  We got into Cochrane late that night only to find that there were no hotel rooms available.  The only thing we could do was to start driving.  We drove for several hours before we found anywhere to stay.  By then it was too late to go to church. 

The following morning we started to drive again.  I hoped that we would find a church to go to, but we were not able to.  We were also unable to find any restaurants that were open.  Our Christmas dinner was a hot dog in a gas station that fortunately was open.  We arrived home late on Christmas Day, hungry and tired and disappointed.  And yet those may have been the most authentically Christmas feelings that I have ever had, or will have.   All the joy and celebration and gift receiving in the Gospel nativity took place in a context of incomprehension and absurdity.  Great love was given and received and celebrated.  And behind the story of the manger is a far greater event, that of the cross.  It is an event that casts a constant shadow on the celebration. 

And so we come together this holy night to celebrate the wonder of it all, Emmanuel, God-with-us, the light that has come into the world.  It is a time of peace and joy as we recall the angelic message.  Their message of peace rings out on a world wearied by terrorism and conflict. We look back on a year that began with the loss of thousands of lives in a Tsunami.  It was a year of terrible storms.  It was a year too of unprecedented violence in our society.  The angels’ message of peace needs to permeate our lives as we consider all of that.  We are the shepherds.  We have heard the angels’ message of peace ring out.  We have left our occupations for a short while.  We have hurried to the stable.  There we worship, we sing, we celebrate, we pray. 

So often we celebrate Christmas as if it were a dream world of tinsel, and sugar, and twinkling lights.  We forget that for those involved it meant long journeys, homelessness, poverty and sorrow.  It also meant God-with-us, presents, songs and joy. 

We are called to a sense of joy at Christmas, a joy that comes from the depth of our being.  It is not a joy that comes from feasting or getting exactly what you wanted for Christmas.  It does not even have anything to do with being happy or in tune with the rest of the world.  It is a joy that rises from our personal trust in God and from the sense that Emmanuel has come.  God is with us.  God’s glory on this holy night shines around each one of us.  May all the blessings of the Christ Child be born in you this night! May all the wonder of the season be born in us this day!  May we celebrate and know that God is present with us!  May it be a season of great joy and peace on earth!  Amen!