Christmas Eve Sermon at First UMC East Greenbush

 

Luke 2:1-20, 12/24/25 “A Great Light”

          I’ve been thinking about Trick or Treating … wait … do I have the wrong holiday?  Actually, I have been thinking about when I took my son trick or treating and when it got dark, I reminded him that the way to tell which house you could go to was whether or not their front porch light was on. The light on meant you were welcome there and a light off meant, don’t go that way. But it isn’t just trick or treating, we use lights to signify welcome in a lot of different ways. If the vacancy sign is lit that means there is room at the hotel, if the lights are on at the store it means it is still open and a lit walkway says “welcome … here is the path.” A light in the dark says a lot. The bright beams breaking through the darkness to illuminate the path before you, the warm soft glow on a dark cold night to say “here is a place of comfort and care.”

 

          The reading from Isaiah talks about light: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light …” And then in the reading from Luke, we see that great light. It comes upon shepherds in the night. It says an angel comes and “the glory of the Lord shone around them.” The glory of the Lord is a light shining. And soon there is “a multitude of the heavenly host.” That’s a lot of light way out in those dark fields with those shepherds. It says the shepherds were “keeping watch over their flock by night” these are people who know the dangers that come in the darkness. These are people who know the darkness well. When the world sleeps, they remain awake, vigilant, waiting for dawn to reveal the safety of their flocks. This is where the glory of the Lord shines … around those watching for danger, those sitting in the dark. A warm and brilliant light shining welcome, here is the path, here is safety.

          What’s so amazing about this light is that it is like an illuminated “open” sign, showing that the door between heaven and earth is open. The light shines upon an opening into heaven, where God is poured out here onto earth. Later, Jesus will ascend back on that same path, and here we see the light is on, the heavens have opened and here is the way.

 

          Some people call these thin places. Those times, moments or locations where the veil between heaven and earth feels thin, or maybe even nonexistent. As a hospital chaplain, I am honored to be able to sit in these thin spaces with people. Sometimes when someone takes their last breath and then falls into the arms of God and sometimes when a new life takes their first breath in the arms of their mother.

          About once a week I make the rounds through the post-partum unit. Unlike most others at the hospital, the people I meet here are not sick, but rather standing at the edge of a brand new chapter of their lives. And it is beautiful, and joyful and amazing, but also … terrifying. When the angel comes to the shepherds it says they are “terrified” and the first thing the angel says is “do not be afraid.” These thin places, these in-breakings of the Holy Spirit can be terrifying. And I often see that on the faces of brand new parents. They just had an overwhelming experience and now are sitting there with a new life that wasn’t there before. They are figuring out feeding schedules and paperwork and phone calls right after this unbelievable life-changing event. I remember, after I had my first son, when people would say he was beautiful, I would widen my eyes and say “I know right!” Saying thank you felt strange as I held that little miracle, I was in awe of this new tiny person. It felt like a gift from God and something amazing to behold and not something I would take credit for.

          When I see all those tiny new lives in the post partum unit on the day of their birth, I feel like I am walking along a thin space. There is a light and a beauty that shines around their tender skin and wrinkled toes and I often find myself wiping a tear as I pray for them, it is a moving experience to be in that place.

 

          But it can also be a hard experience. As I go from room to room it is abundantly and starkly clear that not every baby gets the same starting point in life. Some start their lives with loving parents putting so much thought and care into getting everything just right for them- with a home stocked with fresh diapers, new onesies and photo frames just waiting to be filled with happy memories. But that isn’t the story for all of them. Some are born into different circumstances and that is hard to see.

 

          Jesus was one of those babies born into different circumstances. He was born to a young couple without a roof over their heads. He was born sharing space with stinky animals. Biblical scholar Luke Timothy Johnson writes, “However we construe the manger and the lodge and the wrapping bands put on the baby and the visit by shepherds, there is no doubt concerning Luke’s portrayal of the economic or social level of Jesus’ first companions … [the shepherds] are certainly among the lowest-esteemed laborers. Mary and Joseph, in turn, are transients … people who lack adequate shelter.” It’s quite the scene … a wild scene really … and entirely unexpected. Who would imagine that here, in these circumstances, God chooses to dwell with humanity? That here in this darkness, in these circumstances, comes a great light.

          The vacancy light shines through a bright star saying, “here is room,” even though the inn may be full, here we find abundance and a message of love shining bright enough for the whole world to bask in.

           I have this really clear memory from when I was little. We lived down the street from the high school and we were walking home after my older sister’s band concert. It was cold and snowy in northeast Ohio and I must have been no older than 8 years old and yet I can see it so vividly. There in the cold, dark ordinary night I looked up and saw the big bright multi-colored bulbs hanging on the front porch of our house and I remember feeling so warm inside. There was home and it was Christmas time, and the joy was intense and warm and filled my heart and the lights were so bright against the dark sky.

          I think of that every year at Christmas, that way in which a child’s heart can truly capture the joy of Christmas. The indescribable, warm and welcoming joy knowing that God is with us, God has come. Just as promised.

           This is the great light Isaiah spoke of.  The great light of God’s love shining here on earth to say, “here is the path, this is the way, you are welcome here” the same light that warmed the shepherds flows into the soft candlelight that will soon fill this space. A welcome light.

Wherever you are on your journey, whatever darkness you may find yourself in, see this light on, see this welcome and know that God is here, with a light that can never be extinguished. Merry Christmas.