December 28, 2003

First Sunday of Christmas

Luke 2:22-35

How Can We Keep from Singing?

     You all know what day this is…why, it’s the fourth day of Christmas!  And what should your true love give you today?…four calling birds!

“On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves,

and a partridge in a pear tree.”

     Then there’s the version I grew up with:

“On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
a simulated alligator wallet,
a calendar book with the name of my insurance man,
green polka-dot pajamas,
and a Japanese transistor radio.”

     The fourth day of Christmas was pretty important to me growing up because Lutherans aren’t really supposed to launch into Christmas before the stroke of midnight on December 24.  Our church avoided Christmas carols and we didn’t have a Christmas tree or very many decorations until the Big Day finally arrived.

There are probably still a lot of Lutherans who hang on all the way through Advent before letting Christmas happen, hanging on through weeks of Christmas hype all the way to the midnight hour of December 24 to sing that first carol, “Silent Night, Holy Night.”

     This year, because Matt and Jon were heading out to sea before Thanksgiving, the Hammett’s celebrated Christmas on November 4 - complete with a Christmas tree, lights, stockings hung on the fireplace, Christmas carols and a holiday feast with all the trimmings - the works.  So much for my Lutheran roots. 

     But I do appreciate those Lutheran roots, especially at this time of year, these twelve days of Christmas.  When so many other people have given up on the holiday, I feel Like I‘m just getting started.  Decorations are coming down and returning to boxes and attics, the first or second set of batteries in the new toys have run down, some are already broken or forgotten and return counters in stores are buzzing.  It’s over!  Pack it up!  Throw it out!  Return it!  Move on to New Year’s and after that, give a big sigh and put another holiday blow-out behind us.

     It was six weeks after the first Big Day, that first Christmas morning when Simeon first laid eyes on the child.  The baby’s mother and father brought him to the temple in Jerusalem for the traditional rite of purification, along with the offering expected of the poor - those two turtledoves.  Simeon evidently spent a lot of time in the temple as he was “righteous and devout.” 

      But even as religious as Simeon was, it seems he missed the angels’ song and didn’t meet any of the shepherds who were at the stable that miraculous night.  It seems he didn’t see the wise men traveling through Jerusalem on their way to Bethlehem, either.  He yearned for the “consolation of Israel”, which means he was waiting for the Messiah to come, but when the Savior finally arrived, born just a few miles down the road, Simeon, of all people, missed it completely.

     But the miracle did not miss him.  Coming to the temple day after day, perhaps oblivious to the outside world, he couldn’t find it on his own.  It had to come to him.  And so it did, in the form of a poor family coming for a purification rite, a simple offering expected of all new parents. 

     But this offering was different somehow, inescapably different.  The humble little family shuffled in through the huge, gold-encrusted temple doors, dwarfed by soaring architecture to meet a priest, make an offering, receive a blessing and be on their way.  But Simeon was drawn to them.  Without a word it seems, they allowed him to take the baby into his arms.  And then he suddenly burst into a song, overjoyed that at long last his dream had come true:

 “Lord, now let thou thy servant depart in peace according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for the glory of your people Israel.“

     The Messiah was right there in Simeon’s arms, cooing, crying, wetting his diaper, who knows, but unmistakably it was HIM!  The couple had come for their purification rite, but this child would purify the world.  The Savior had come!  How could Simeon keep from singing?  His song echoed through the hushed chambers of the great temple.  Onlookers must have thought Simeon was out of his mind, which of course he was for the things he professed were not what a rational mind could conjure up, but the heart, the soul, the often dark and empty places now flush with the unexplainable joy of it all.  Good Lord!  This is the Messiah!

     And that’s the way it works - a young woman and a man engaged but not yet fully married, found to be with a child they hadn’t planned on, shepherds minding their own business dozing off on night watch, astrologers methodically going through the tedium of tracking stars, an old man praying the same prayers day after day.  Suddenly, Christmas caught them by surprise.

     Did it catch you this year?

     It caught me just when I wasn’t expecting it.  At the bereavement service last Sunday at Second Church, Rev. Lee asked me to light the Advent candles.  I picked up the candle lighter and passed the flame from one candle to the next; one, two, three, four.   Suddenly, a feeling of deep peace flooded over me.  I’ve lighted my share of candles over the years, to be sure, but the last time I held a candle lighter and lighted Advent candles during a worship service, was probably thirty or more years ago, in that Lutheran church where I grew up.  And it all came rushing back in, unexpected.  Just as I was thinking there might not be enough wick to complete the job…two candles, three candles…it caught me.  I didn’t start singing, but I sure felt like it.

     I think it’s there for each of us but that so often we get distracted by the rush or stress or maybe just the numbness of the hum-drum of daily living that we don’t give it much of a chance.  I think maybe Christmas is there all the time, if we just had the eyes to see it or the ears to hear it - angel songs, kneeling shepherds, wise men bearing gifts, a holy family, the Christ child, peace on earth, really possible even now. 

     But thanks be to God, the Savior is there for us, comes to us even when we have trouble finding our way to him.  He comes to surprise us in a song that lifts our heart, the gaze of child’s eyes, the lighting of Advent candles.  He breaks in on our sleepy spirits, there to be recognized in a moment that takes us back, recognized in the face of need or the baby in our arms.

     The Savior comes to you.  Watch.  Wait.  Listen.  The birth is not down the road in some distant Bethlehem.  You have not missed it.  The birth is here and now - the Savior‘s birth, your birth.  The Messiah comes in the surprise that warms your heart, stirs your soul, moves you to generosity.  He is there!  The Savior has come!  Christmas never ends!