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Sermon Archive - December 24 & 25, 1998
Pastor Danielson
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Luke 2:1-20
More than twenty Christmases ago, scientists in the United States sent a
message to unknown recipients in outer space. The communication, to whoever-
might-be-out-there, was a brief three-minute transmission in a mathematical
code, describing the make-up of our solar system, the inhabitants of Earth and
the present population of this world. The target of this signal was a cluster
of some 300,000 stars located on the remote fringe of the Milky Way, a cluster
called Messier 13.
That Christmas signal from planet Earth, traveling at the speed of light,
186,000 miles per second, will not reach the star cluster for 25,000 Earth-
years! If anyone is listening and cares to answer it, it will take at least as
long to reply! Nonetheless, the scientists requested a response to this
greeting by Christmas of the year 51974 A.D."
Christmas is the celebration of that moment in history when God sent us a
message. Unlike the Christmas 1974 message sent by scientists to the outer
limits of the Milky Way, God's message was not mathematically coded, but made
clear and understandable.
"The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. Emmanuel, God is with
us! We are not alone!"
Year in and year out, a concern of every conscientious Christian preacher, is
not who will be listening to that message in 50,000 years, but who will be
listening 5 years from now! And not only, whether there will be many or few
listeners, but "What will they be listening for, about God?" and, "What will
they be hearing and, will it matter?
Every year we read newspaper articles about how Christmas observances in
public schools have all but disappeared. In terms of actual pageants, with
nativity scenes, I would agree that such productions are best left to
churches. I do wish, however, that school administrations and the courts would
work harder at resolving issues surrounding the presentation of seasonal,
sacred music.
I recall an article, by a Tribune columnist, which described what had become
of the Christmas program at his son's school. To avoid offending anybody the
school called it the "Winter program," dropped sacred music altogether, and
started singing about the weather---including songs like Winter Wonderland,
Frosty the Snowman and Suzy Snowflake. "A visitor from another planet, trying
to connect that program with other observances of the Season, whether Ramadon,
Hanukkah, or Christmas, could assume, the columnist wrote, that the children
of that school belonged to the Church of Meteorology."
Perhaps I am not as well informed as I should be about seasonal school
programs, what is permissible and what is not permissible, given the
constitutional provisions for the separation of Church and State; never the
less I am concerned about. . .
- What future generations will be listening for, about God?
- What they will be hearing and whether it will even matter?
Will and Arial Durant, prolific writers about the history of civilization,
tell of when their daughter was a small girl. One day she came to her mother
and said, "Mama, what is God like?" Not knowing exactly how to answer, Ariel
Durant said, "Why don't you ask your father?" Instead, the little girl asked
her teacher; not getting a satisfactory answer from her, she finally did ask
her father, "Daddy, what is God like?" Will Durant, always very busy, passed-
over the question. One day soon after, when Mrs. Durant was cleaning her
daughter's room, she found a bit of blank verse, which the child had written.
It went like this:
- I asked my Mommy what God is like. But she didn't know.
- I asked my teacher what God is like. And she didn't know.
- I asked my Daddy, who knows more than anyone else in all the world, what God
is like. He didn't know.
- I think when I am as old as my Mama and Daddy I will know something about
God.
I believe future generations will be listening for something about God,
and that they will care about what they will be hearing!
Call me a wide-eyed-optimist but, I also believe future generations will want
to hear about a Savior who is as personal as our Savior has been for believers
since the Bethlehem manger of that first Christmas.
Human beings want their relationship with such "holiness" to be as personal as
it can possibly be ---as close as their relationships with family members,
their best friends, good neighbors, or with their pastors. Even more so! I
know! In my first, last and only other pastorate before coming to St. James I
developed close, warm relationships with many families and individuals and,
with one person in particular. Hilda Kaufman was the oldest member of Lord of
Life. She lived with her niece, Audrey Prafke, served on the Altar Guild,
provided "home-baked-bread" for every single Service of Holy Communion, and
was as supportive of my very inexperienced ministry as any human being could
be.
Not long after I came here to St. James, Hilda died of a heart attack. The new
pastor of Lord of Life had only been in place about a month. At the request of
Audrey, Pastor Alspach called and asked if I would return to preach Hilda's
funeral sermon. Since it was a very busy time for me, and because I was
reluctant to return to a congregation whose new pastor was trying very hard to
make his own mark, I asked if I could think about it over night. Pastor
Alspach said, "Of course." After hanging up the phone I sat down to write a
sympathy note to Audrey and her husband Ron. Before I finished the note, I
tore it up and called Pastor Alspach to tell him I would be there.
We returned to Darien, Illinois---in person. Just before the service began,
Sally and I met Audrey, Ron and their two children in the narthex. We hugged
each other and, for a brief moment, we didn't say a word. They knew how much
we loved Aunt Hilda and the entire Lord of Life family of faith. How did they
know that? Because we had not just sent a written message of our love ---we
came, "in the flesh!
This is actually a fairly common response to human need. Think about it! It is
not unique at all! It is pretty much as everyone, gathered here this night,
does whenever they realize that nothing less will do! Whenever possible we go,
"in the flesh," to remember with others, "in the flesh," those who have
departed "in the spirit." We have all done it before and, when and as we are
able, we will do it again and again for we know that, to be there "in the
flesh," makes a gracious difference! It is then, this understanding of the
importance of our "in person comings and goings," that convinces me that:
God's love in sending, in the flesh,
and Christ's coming, in the flesh,
is the kind of personal SAVING, in the flesh,
future generations will be listening for and caring about.
The Story of the Birth of the Christ Child is like the present "space age" in
reverse. It is not a story of earthly beings attempting to invade heavenly
places, rather, it is a story of a Heavenly Being invading the earth. And, in
spite of prophecies, God's grace, freely given in the birth of the Christ
Child, caught the world by surprise. The last place in the world one might
have expected to find the Messiah was in a manger, in a stable, in Bethlehem.
While it may be true that Christ's "coming" by way of a Bethlehem manger
remains unexpected and stunning, when we take Christ out of the manger and
invite him into our hearts, the meaning unfolds and the strangeness vanishes.
Christmas is simply God's way of getting up close and personal.
I pray that this is what future generations will still be listening for,
about God! And, in my heart of hearts, I hope that it is what they will be hearing, And
that they will still care?"
Not too many years ago, while visiting an elderly member of St. James in late
November, she asked if we could spend just a little time preparing for her
funeral ---choosing lessons and hymns. First we selected several scripture
readings and then we turned to the hymns. Interestingly enough, she chose only
one of the old standards ---I believe it was "What A Friend We Have In Jesus."
I then suggested we take a look at some of the Easter hymns which celebrate
our "resurrection faith." She politely agreed to "Jesus Christ Is Risen
Today," and then promptly inquired as to whether there was anything wrong with
selecting a Christmas carol. My first reaction, though silent, was: "What if
she dies in summer?" How silly! And how embarrassing it would have been for me
if I had questioned her wishes aloud, because the carol she chose was Luther's
"From Heaven Above To Earth I Come" and, of the 14 verses printed, the two
she asked be included for certain and which she had committed to memory were
the 4th and 13th. Listen to them and tell me if they are not for all seasons:
The blessings which the Father planned
The Son holds in his infant hand,
That in his kingdom, bright and fair,
You may with us his glory share.
My heart for very joy now leaps;
My voice no longer silence keeps;
I too must join the angel-throng
To sing with joy his cradle-song.
Lillian's death and funeral came in a few short months--- the month of May to
be exact. Four verses of From Heaven Above were sung, verses 4 and 13 by the
congregation and verses 1 and 3 by a soloist. In my eulogy I recalled how, on
the day of our funeral planning, as I prepared to be on my way (all things
having been accomplished), she said in her wise, old-world-way:
"Pastor, I look forward to the day when I can look into the
Father's face and tell him I received, accepted, and loved his Christmas gift."
Once again, on Christmas Eve, we have before us the Christ Child, born for you
and me. Please remember to receive "the gift" in your heart and grow daily in
your love for him. AMEN . . . Please say with me again this "silent night,"
AMEN.
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