So I bet by now you’re thinking...wow...I should have gone to the earlier service. Where is she going with all this fear stuff? I thought it was Christmas.
Well friends, there is good news! Our gospel story for tonight is also situated in a time and place that was ruled by fear...and yet, God breaks in and changes everthing.
In the story from Luke, the gospel writer tells us that Mary & Joseph are on their way to Bethlehem for the census. They have to be accounted for by the government. Now, this isn’t a friendly neighborhood census kind of thing...you know like the form that we get in the mail every so many years. This is a taxation and representation kind of census headed up by the Roman officials who are occupying and oppressing the Jewish community. And here are Mary & Joseph traveling about 100 miles by foot and donkey to be counted. Can you even imagine?
When they arrive in Bethlehem, they are told there’s no room for them in the inn. And Mary is about to give birth. Fear is palpable in this moment.
I was talking to a friend of mine who is an expert in the economics of the this particular time period in Luke, and I asked him what his take was on this “no room at the inn” business. And this is what he told me: there are two things that the gospel writer is trying to convey--one is that if there’s no room at the inn, it means that someone more important was in town and two that no one offered hospitality to a couple in a fragile and precarious situation, which would not have been normative practice in these days. In other words, Mary & Joseph were looked down upon by this community. The doors were shut. There was no hope.
And yet! See this is what I love about Luke’s gospel, there’s always an “and yet” moment. And yet! The couple finds shelter “in a manager”--in other words, they find shelter in a barn or cave or some place where the animals were kept. This is part of the good news of this story...God breaks in at the most unexpected times and places! With God there is an “and yet!” hopefulness.
So while all of this is happening (and of course, Luke leaves out the chaos of the birthing experience, which is another sermon for another day), there are shepherds tending their flocks in the hill country. Now when we hear this part of the story, chances are we imagine these young men gently guiding fluffy white sheep through a pastoral setting of green hills and little creeks. But these men (and sometimes women) were the basically what we would consider “the working poor.” Their feet would have been dirty, their clothing perhaps tattered and worn, and they would have smelled...well, probably, like sheep...and not the cute, fluffy white sheep that we would like to imagine…
And it is to these people that the angels of God appear and announce “Do not be afraid! The Messiah has been born! Go and see!” Here again, Luke gives us another “and yet” moment. Those who were at the lowest in the economic system of the community are the first ones to be given the good news! And it’s not simple stuff, but the good news that the Kingdom of God is happening right now, in their midst, and they should go check it out. This is big stuff! These shepherds become the first witnesses of the incarnation of God made human.
Then they go and tell other people on their way and the gospel writer says that the people were amazed. Amazed! Can you imagine hearing something this incredible and believing it?! They were AMAZED! They were excited! Don’t you see...in the midst of fear, of occupation, of war, of hunger, God broke into the world in the form of a baby to people who had been rejected because someone MORE IMPORTANT was in town, and the “everyday” people--the shepherds and those they told--were excited and amazed. Something different was happening. It was an “and yet” moment that we still talk about and celebrate...even some 2000 years later.
The last couple of weeks the Bible study group and I have been studying the artwork of John August Swanson’s nativity paintings. If you haven’t heard of him, please google him...you won’t be disappointed, I promise. Anyway, in his painting of the announcement to the shepherds, he has all the shepherds and even the sheep looking up into the night sky as the chorus of angels give their pronouncement. And the angels are big and beautiful and smiling and singing and you just know that this is a wonderfully exciting moment. But then, if you look closely, you’ll notice that one shepherd has manage to sleep through the whole thing. He’s turned his back to the angels, his eyes are closed, and he is oblivious to what’s going on around him.
And that got me thinking...how often am I oblivious to the in-breaking of God? How often have my eyes been closed to the good news? How often?
I think in our “modern world” we are simultaneously more aware and more unaware of the world around us. Thanks to social media and 24 hour news stations, we are more aware and connected to the world around us than we have ever been. So it means that we are inundated by moments of great tragedy and fear unlike never before. And we become almost numb about it. So often we just roll over, close our eyes, and go to sleep---choosing to be oblivious. As a result, we miss those “and yet” moments. We miss the announcement of angels to not be afraid that good things are happening. We miss those moments of amazement. We miss the powerful moments when God shows up in the least expected places.
But tonight, we have a choice. Tonight we can wake up, look up, and listen for the good news. Tonight we can be AMAZED that God chose to come and be among us. Not as a powerful military ruler, but a baby born in a feeding trough in a town where his parents were unwelcome and shepherds were the first to celebrate.
Let us pray:
Almighty God, we confess that we have not been open to all that you have revealed to us in the nativity of your Son. You sent Christ to be born as a helpless child to a family that could find no room, but a stable. You sent your angels to announce his birth to lowly shepherds in fields at night. And yet, you invite us and free us for joyful compassion, that we may know Christ in serving others, welcoming the stranger and being amazed at good news. Amen.