Christmas Eve 2008                                                            

I don’t remember the exact date but it was in early December.
It was at the end of one of those busy days, one of those days when it seemed like I was moving all day long. Maybe it was a Wednesday evening after confirmation classes. Or, maybe it was after the Advent Festival. Regardless of the exact day, it was late and it was dark and I was leaving church and I just happened to look up in the sky, the southwest sky, and my eyes caught a magnificent sight—it was a crescent moon with the stars Venus and Jupiter all aligned and shining brightly. For a moment or two I just stood there in the cold looking up in the sky, not remembering if I had ever seen any thing like that before. And then I got cold and I climbed in my van and drove home.

It is on occasions like this that I find myself wondering—had I been present on that cold starry night in Bethlehem some 2000 plus years ago—would I have noticed the amazing events taking place? I have to admit, it is one of those questions that haunts me from time to time. Would I have heard the choirs of angles singing or simply the sound of barnyard animals shifting around in the night? Would I have seen the star in the sky that night and would I have noticed Mary and Joseph or would I have simply passed them off as two poor and freighted travelers looking for a place to sleep amidst a busy city? Would I have understood the hushed silence of the divine presence, or simply the chill of a cold east wind? Would I have understood the message of Emmanuel, God with us, or would the cosmic implications of that evening have passed me by?

I am convinced that had two people been there that night in Bethlehem it is quite possible that they could have heard and seen two entirely different scenes. I believe this is because all of life is this way. God never presents himself in revelation in a manner in which we are forced to believe.
We are always left with an option, for this is God’s way. Thus, one person can say, “it’s a miracle”, while another says, “it’s a coincidence.”

I believe it is safe to say that very few people in Palestine saw and heard and understood what took place that night. The choirs of angles singing were drowned out by the haggling and trading going on in the Jerusalem bazaar much like the cacophony of noise experienced in the St. Cloud Mall or the Mall of America. 

There was a bright star in the sky but the only ones apparently paying attention and taking notice were three pagan astrologers from the East. 

If anyone did see Mary and Joseph on that fateful night, they were too preoccupied with their own problems to offer any assistance.

At the risk of exposing and admitting my age, I am reminded of an episode of “All in the Family”. For those of you who are not baby boomers, this was a satirical sitcom that pushed the envelope and addressed issues like politics, race, religion and a host of other issues not normally touch on prime time TV at that time.

In this particular episode Edith and Archie Bunker are attending Edith’s high school class reunion. Edith encounters an old classmate by the name of Buck who, unlike his earlier years, had now become excessively obese. Edith and Buck have a delightful conversation about old times and the things they did together, but remarkably, Edith doesn’t seem to notice how extremely heavy Buck has become. Later when Edith and Archie are talking, she says in her whiny voice, “Archie, ain’t Buck a beautiful person?”

Archie looks at her with a disgusted expression and says, “Edith, you dingbat! You and I look at the same guy and you see a beautiful person and I see a blimp.” Edith gets a puzzled expression on her face and sys something unknowingly profound, “Yeah, ain’t it too bad.”

Perhaps you too have discovered that what we see and what we hear in life depends not upon the events, but rather who we are as people. It’s not what is out there, but what is inside of us.

Many of you have possible seen again this year, Charles Dickens’s play, “The Christmas Carol.” 
There is one scene that has always fascinated me. The spirit of Christmas Past has just paid a very discomforting visit to Ebenezer Scrooge. Clearly the old miser is shaken by the entire ordeal.
But when he awakes from his sleep, does he take the message to heart? No, he simply dismisses it by saying: “Bah, humbug! It wasn’t real. Just a bit of last night’s undigested beef.”
A vision to be taken to heart or simple indigestion? You tell me?

It would be tempting for each of us to say with great sincerity, “Had I been there at Bethlehem that night I would have seen the star. I would have understood.” Would you? Really? 
There is one way of knowing. Ask yourself what you saw this in the days and weeks leading up to Christmas. When you watched the evening news did you see chaos and strife, or did you see sheep with out a shepherd?

When you went out to do your shopping did you see only hordes of people in the stores or did you notice the worried expressions on some of their faces? Worried because they are facing this Christmas without employment and they don’t know how they are going to make ends meet.

When you read about the apartment fire in Burnsville did you think to yourself, “Boy I’m glad that’s not me!” or did you ponder, “I wonder how I might be of some help?”

And ask yourself what you hear this Christmas? Did you hear only the blasts of music and carols in the shopping malls or did you hear the silent sighs of the lonely and the bereaved who may be dreading Christmas because it accentuates their loneliness?

And in the midst of the sound of honking horns and people arguing over parking places, did you hear the faint sound of laughter coming from a child who benefited from your generosity in giving to one of the many Christmas gift programs?

Perhaps you have noticed it as well, that is, our tendency that often what we see and what we hear is not dependant upon the event but upon ourselves. If you did in fact hear the cry from the lonely, the laughter of the child who might not have otherwise received a gift this Christmas, if you saw the sheep without a shepherd, then you might just have seen the events that took place in Bethlehem that night.

If on the other hand, you lacked that spiritual sense of seeing and hearing -- then you probably would have been with the remaining 99% who were present but who saw or heard nothing out the ordinary.

Christmas has traditionally been a time of giving gifts. Perhaps this year, maybe even this evening, you might want to ask God to bless you with the gift of faith, either renewed faith, or a fresh faith, but specifically, faith filled eyes and faith-filled ears—that allow you to see and hear those sights and sounds that so many in the world glosses over and ignores and are in the end poorer because of it.

Perhaps this Christmas, the story of the Christ child in Bethlehem will cause you to look at the world in a different light, with new eyes opened. And as a result the world will never be the same; you will never be the same. And the Christ child’s birth, life, death and resurrection will not be in vain.

In the end, perhaps one of our Christmas carols says it best in the words…
”No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin. Where meek souls shall receive him still, the dear Christ Child enters in.”

As we take to time to celebrate and reflect this afternoon/evening I offer this simple prayer…
May God bring each of you:
Love in times of hate.
Hope in times of despair.
Light in times of darkness.
Faith in times of doubt.
Contentment in times of uncertainty.
Joy in times of sadness.
Peace in times of terror.
Trust in times of fear.
May each of you have a blessed Christmas. Amen

Pastor Stephen P. Blenkush
Zion Lutheran Church
Milaca, MN

(Sermon Archive)