St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Wesley Chapel, FL
Preacher: The Rev. Adrienne R. Hymes
Christmas Eve (I)/Year C: December 24, 2021
Gospel: Luke 2:1-14 (15-20)
During one of my trips to London, I remember noticing, what seemed to be ancient churches on every main corner. In the midst of ordinary activities, of people walking on the street, drinking coffee, talking, and texting, church bells rang out from multiple churches all at the same time.
The surround-sound bells were very loud, and for a slight moment, interrupted those ordinary activities. At the point of impact from the first tolling of the bells to the conclusion, the sacred music of the church broke into peoples’ everyday lives. Whether or not people realized it, the body of Christ, made manifest in the world as the church, was present, and actively interrupting mundane, human lives on a busy city street.
These holy collisions are happening all around us, if we have eyes to see, ears to hear and hearts to receive. No doubt, many of you have experienced your own moments where the line between the sacred and mundane seemed to blur, even disappear. In those moments, room enough is made for you to be swept up in God’s divine presence, even as the world goes on around you, business as usual.
Now, typically when we hear the word, “collision,” an image of two, or more, moving pieces, that would normally not come together, have done so in an unexpected, often violent and destructive way. I invite us, however, into consider a different perspective on collisions. Tonight, we focus on the unexpected collision between the two realms—the heavenly and the earthly. Tonight, we focus on the incarnation of the divine God in the human person of the infant Jesus. This holy collision did not violently destroy; it was peaceful, creative and restorative. Even so, I intentionally use this word, “collision,” because where a collision has taken place, there is usually a focal point resulting from that impact—proof that the two moving pieces did, in fact, come together in some noticeable way.
We gather tonight to celebrate that focal point resulting from the impact of the coming together of the cosmic and the earthly realms—that focal point is the birth of Jesus Christ. We gather tonight to celebrate God’s inbreaking into human history through this miraculous birth of God’s only Son—a birth that left the irrevocable “birthmark” of Jesus Christ, on and in this created world, and in the souls of all humankind. And, we celebrate the birth of the Christ child this night because, for mere mortals, life eternal with God was made possible through him.
Jesus’ birth narrative in our gospel passage in the second chapter of Luke begins with pretty ordinary stuff. A census was ordered by the Emperor, so all went to their hometowns to be registered. Returning to his hometown to handle some pretty basic citizen’s business could not have been convenient for Joseph and his pregnant fiancée. Since Joseph did not have the option to register for the census online, like we do, He and Mary made the journey from Nazareth to his hometown of Bethlehem—ordinary.
Many people would have been traveling great distances to ensure their registrations. Finding a room at an inn was probably like trying to find a hotel room when our presiding bishop, Michael Curry, comes to town to preach. And yet, God led Joseph and Mary from a place where there was no room to a place where there was room enough. And the lines between the sacred and the mundane began to blur.
Luke uses only two verses to tell us that Mary delivered the baby, wrapped him in cloth and laid him in a manger. The holy collision happened, and if one happened to blink, they would have missed the shift in human history, set in motion when hope was born into this dark and broken world.
There is still yet another clue, for us, that something miraculous has taken place. It strikes me that the manger is a source from which animals are fed. What a fitting image for the infant, Jesus, the bread of life, who is the source from which all of creation is fed. And the blurred lines between the sacred and the mundane disappeared.
The narrative abruptly calls our attention to another ordinary scene, with shepherds on the margins of society. These shepherds were going about their ordinary tasks of tending their flock by night when an angel of the Lord appeared to them announcing the birth of the Christ child, accompanied by a choir of angels singing praises to God. This holy collision between the divine angels and the ordinary shepherds—resulted in a “big bang” which imprinted on the shepherds’ souls, the irrevocable “birthmark” of Jesus Christ. That “big bang” also created evangelists who shared their witness with others so that all who heard it were amazed.
You and I are ordinary human vessels, going about our daily demands of life. And, we are children of Almighty God, whom God has uniquely purposed—and often re-purposed—to tell all people about the good news of God in Christ—that in the birth of Jesus, there was a holy collision that did not destroy human life, but saves life and gives, eternal life with God.
In that ordinary dwelling place for animals—no place fit for a king to be born—we are reminded that through His Son, God provides many dwelling places for the human soul seeking shelter from assaults from the devil; dwelling places where there is nourishment for the starving spirit; and dwelling places where unrestricted healing restores broken spirits.
Like the shepherds, we must be intentional about showing up in this world as Christ incarnate for others—in order to make him known to those who do not yet know him and to remind those, of us, who already do. On this most holy night, let us leave this sacred space committed to making Christ known to all with great enthusiasm.
As we meet ordinary people, doing ordinary things, may God powerfully use us, as divine instruments of His grace, to collide with the mundane, so that all may refocus our gaze on the divine light that has been born into this dark and broken world—the light that is Jesus Christ in the world and Jesus Christ for the World. May it be so. Amen.
