Christmas Stories

The Rev. Whitworth Ferguson III
The First Presbyterian Church
Washingtonville, New York
December 11, 2005
The Third Sunday in Advent

Christmas Stories
Luke 1:26-38
Matthew 1:18-25

“Perhaps you’d care to hear my side of the story?
Here I am…banished upstairs to my bedroom on Christmas Day,
and no one even gave me the chance to explain.
But it was not my fault!
After all, I didn’t know the cat was supposed to be kept
locked up in the bathroom;
and how was I to know that just when I let the cat out,
Aunt Mabelline would be carrying the cranberry eggnog punch
into the living room?
And who would put punch in a glass bowl
that could break like that?
And how come we’re always told not to bring food
into the living room,
but Aunt Mabelline, who drops everything, was allowed to?
And why didn’t someone tell me she was afraid of cats?”
(adapted from “The True Story of Christmas” by Anne Fine)

This is not a Christmas story from my youth.
But it probably sounds familiar:
a Christmas story that could have happened in any home
to any family, on any Christmas.

We all have our Christmas stories.
Every time I get together with my sisters,
we talk about the time
we were at my grandparents’ house in Buffalo
and cousin Steve locked himself in the bathroom,
the spooky bathroom that was in the basement.
Grandpa had to cut a hole in the door to let him out.
Grandpa was not at all amused,
but we all thought it was great fun.
Of course it is simply not true
that we let my cousin stay locked in the bathroom
for more than an hour before we told anyone;
and there is no truth to the story
that I stood outside the door and told my cousin
that we were going to leave him there,
but that someone would probably find him
in a week or so…

Christmas and stories go together
as families gather around Christmas trees and dinner tables.
There is something about the season that brings out
the story teller in all of us.
And over time, our stories inevitably become embellished;
we are all like the fisherman whose fish
grows by an inch and a pound
with every recounting of the story.

Our celebration is grounded of course in the Christmas story,
the story that we hear anew each year:
the story of baby Jesus born in Bethlehem,
born in a stable, laid so gently in a manger,
the glow of candlelight shining on Mary’s face,
with cattle and sheep standing watch
as shepherds kneel and
Wise Men, with their heads bowed, offer their gifts
of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

The problem is that this story,
the one that we all have in our minds
is not the real story of Christmas.
The story of Jesus’ birth as it comes to us from the Bible
in the two gospels from Matthew and Luke are quite different.

Luke’s version is the one we are more familiar with:
the angel Gabriel came to Mary to tell her
that she was going to become the Mother of God.
This young woman, unmarried,
probably no more than 13 or 14,
was told she was going to have a child.
This was a terrifying prospect:
in those days, conceiving outside of marriage
was considered to be adultery and punishable by death.
But Mary responded calmly to the news,
with words of powerful faithfulness:
“Here am I, the servant of the Lord;
let it be with me according to your word.”
(Luke 1:38)

Matthew’s version is quite different from Luke’s.
Where Luke focused on Mary, Matthew focused on Joseph.
The angel came to bring news of the birth to Joseph.
He spoke to Joseph in a dream as Joseph slept.
Joseph did not respond in words,
but he too responded with powerful faithfulness,
as he did everything the angel told him to do.

In Luke’s version, the couple journey to Bethlehem,
but can you find any description in the gospel
of Mary riding on the back of a donkey –
that image we all have in our minds?
Matthew sets his story with Joseph and Mary already in Bethlehem,
with no mention of censuses or taxes, inns or stables or mangers.
Mary gives birth to Jesus and
Matthew then jumps ahead in time to tell us of visitors:
The Wise Men: those unnamed and unnumbered
astrologers from the east.
Matthew tells us that they found Jesus and Mary in a house:
not a stable, but a house,
as though they had been living in Bethlehem all along.
There are no shepherds abiding in the fields, tending their flocks.
There is no heavenly host singing “Glory to God in the highest.”
We have to look to Luke to find them.
But there are no Wise men in Luke’s version
no gifts of gold, frankincense or myrrh.
No star rising in the east.

Luke tells us that Mary and Joseph found no room at the Inn,
but does not tell us what their accommodations were.
They may have found shelter in a stable,
but some non-biblical stories from that era
suggest that they actually found shelter in a cave.
In that part of the world, many people did.

What we have done over the centuries is taken the various bits
and pieces of the birth stores and squeezed them together.
We have made the Christmas stories into a Christmas story.

We run some risks when we do this.
First, we risk not being faithful to the Bible.
Second, we risk turning the birth of Jesus into a sentimental tale,
a glowing story to be read by firelight.
We risk focusing more on the who and what,
and overlooking the why of Jesus birth.
Most important, we risk missing God’s radical act
in sending his Son to be born of human flesh,
to walk among us as our Emmanuel.

On Christmas Eve, we will have our traditional
service of Lessons and Carols
Our final lesson will not come from the gospel of Luke or Matthew,
Our final lesson does not come from a birth narrative.
No, our final lesson comes from the gospel of John:
John, who begins his story of the life of Jesus
with his baptism.
In John’s lesson, we hear,
“In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God
and the Word was God.
He was in the beginning with God.
All things came into being through him,
and without him not one thing came into being.
What has come into being in him was life,
and the life was the light of all people.
The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:1-5)

In these first five verses of John, we hear the Christmas story,
In these verses we hear the why of Jesus’ birth:
That God sent his Son to walk among us
because we preferred to walk in darkness,
which is not what our loving Father in Heaven wants for us.
Isaiah spoke to this in the prophecy
we also hear on Christmas Eve:
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness,
on them light has shined.” (Isaiah 9:2)

John weaves us more thoroughly into the story as he continues:
“He was in the world,
and the world come into being through him,
yet the world did not know him.
He came to what was his own
and his own people did not accept him.” (John 1:10)

This is so much more than the story of the birth of a baby.
This is God coming into the world,
the world that God created for us,
a world that we constantly darken through our own actions.
This is such a radical act!

In her beautiful song of faithfulness
that we now call the Magnificat,
Mary tells us what we should expect in the birth of her Son:
It is not a song of warm sentimentality;
rather, it is a song that suggests that the birth of Jesus
will turn the world upside down.
She sings, “He has scattered the proud
in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.” (Luke 1:51-53)
Mary’s song echoes the Song of Hannah,
who sang joyfully more than a 1,000 years earlier
when she learned that she was going to give birth to the child
who would be known as Samuel,
the great prophet of the Lord God:
“The bows of the mighty are broken,
and the feeble gird on strength
Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry are fat with spoil.
The Lord… brings low
and he also exalts,
He raises up the poor from the dust;
and he lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes… (1 Sam. 2:4ff)

These are songs of righteousness in an unrighteous world;
These are songs of justice in an unjust world;
these are songs of mercy in a merciless world;
As much as we might love “Silent Night",
these are the songs of Jesus’ birth
and Jesus’ life.

The birth of Jesus makes a wonderful story,
but it is much more than that: it is a call to action,
a call for each of us to look at ourselves
and acknowledge that we spend too much of our lives
walking in darkness.
Jesus’ birth is a call for us to walk in the light
and to be light, bright beacons.
Where we see the darkness of hunger,
we are to bring the light of food;
Where we see the darkness of grief and hopelessness,
we are to bring the light of love and hope;
Where we see the darkness of war and violence,
we are to bring the light of peace and reconciliation;
Where we see the darkness of injustice,
of inequality, of poverty,
we are to shine the light of Christ,
bring the light of Christ,
be the light of Christ.

This year, when you come to our Christmas Eve service,
listen to the words,
the words in the lessons, the words in the carols.
Listen especially to the words in the final lesson,
in John’s gospel.
That is where you will find the heart of the Christmas story
the true meaning of Christmas.
the story that will fill you with joy
long after the last carol is sung
and the Christmas decorations are put away:
“But to all who received him,
who believed in his name,
he gave power to become children of God.
And the Word became flesh
and lived among us,
and we have seen his glory,
the glory as of a father’s only son,
full of grace and truth. …
[And] from his fullness,
we – you and I -- have received grace upon grace.
This is the story of Christmas.
AMEN

Presents Under the Tree

The Rev. Whitworth Ferguson III
The First Presbyterian Church
Washingtonville, New York
December 4, 2005
The Second Sunday in Advent

Presents Under the Tree
Mark 1:1-8
Isaiah 40:1-11

She said it as only an older sister could:
The tone was imperious;
It was neither a suggestion nor a request:
it was a command.
“I am not buying you a Christmas present this year.
I am not buying anyone a Christmas present this year.
I do not want you to buy me a present this year.
I don’t want anyone to buy me a present this year.”

Before my other sisters and I could react, she explained:
“For your Christmas presents this year
I am going to make donations in your names to charity.”
That’s what I am going to do for everyone
for Christmas from now on.”

My three sisters and I had been buying one another presents
for Christmas and birthdays for more years than we cared to count.
Over the seasons we had done it all:
We’d given presents we bought at stores,
presents we had made,
services offered, such as a car wash, or a prepared meal;
On rare occasions, when ideas failed us,
we’d given gift certificates, and even cash.

But we had always looked forward to the hunt
for the perfect present.
There is something special when you watch a person’s face
as they tear the wrappings off a present
and realize that you'd got them the perfect gift.
So my sister’s edict did not go down well
with my other two sisters or me.
We all had the same reaction:
“Fine: she doesn’t have to buy me a present,
but if I want to get her something, she’s not going to stop me!”

But then the more I got to thinking,
the more I realized that she was right.
What did a new necktie or sweater or a CD
have to do with Christmas?
What the wise men started two thousand years ago in Bethlehem
has turned into month of frenzy beginning with the
ominous-sounding “Black Friday” with its “doorbuster specials”.
So we all jumped on the bandwagon.

We talked to one another
to learn about what charities, what causes,
and what ministries were of interest to one another.
For my older sister, cancer research has been at the top of her list,
so we have made contributions in her name
to the American Cancer Society
and to Roswell Park Cancer Institute, where she works.
For my middle sister, her church in Charlotte is a top priority
so we have made contributions there in her name.
She also loves music, so we have found music programs
and ministries in her community that she loves.
My sisters have made contributions in my name to
Princeton Theological Seminary,
as well as to Scenic Hudson, Riverkeepers,
the World Wildlife Fund,
and other organizations that support a healthy stewardship
of this earth God has entrusted us with.

We’ve learned that many organizations have special memberships
and programs for children, so we expanded our giving to
include nieces and nephews, as well as children of friends.
When they were younger my nephew was thrilled with
his own membership at the zoo, and my niece
with her own membership at the aquarium.
The Heifer project catalog has a number of opportunities
that will help those in need and also delight children.

We keep looking for ways to enlarge
our circle of ministry through giving
as we go through the holidays.
For some years now, Pat and I have bought our Christmas cards
from UNICEF, the United Nations Childrens’ Fund.
It is a small way for us to help provide food and medicine
to children as we share greetings with family and friends.
My sister’s hospital sells beautiful cards made by children
who are cancer patients at the hospital.
There are many worthy organizations that sell cards and paper
year round now.

What we are trying to do, in our own small ways,
is follow the call of Isaiah,
the cry of John the Baptizer:
We are trying to make straight the highway of God:
the roadway that connects our hearts with God
through Jesus Christ.
In each thing we do, we are proclaiming:
proclaiming love, the love we have been given
in Jesus Christ;
the love we are called to share in everything we do.

In each gift we give or card we send
we try to respond more meaningfully to Christmas,
and as we do so, we make the link
between ourselves and Christ more direct,
straighter, less winding and curving,
a road with fewer obstacles, detours and dead-ends.

Alfred Delp, a Jesuit priest who was martyred for his faith
near the end of World War II, wrote shortly before he died,
that if we are paying attention to the call of the prophet,
to the meaning of Advent, then we will “know….what it means
to clear away the rubble and make paths smooth again.
[And we will also understand that]
we will have to… do it for years to come.”
That our work on the roadway is something that is continuous
ongoing, in our every act, our every word.
(from “Watch For the Light”)

Each year there are many who say loudly
that we need to put Christ back in Christmas.
That is not a new complaint;
people have been saying this for decades.
But putting Christ back in Christmas
is not about nativities in town squares
or carols in classrooms, as some would have it.
No, putting Christ in Christmas is a very personal task,
something that is up to each of us individually.
And we do that by working on the highway between ourselves
and Jesus Christ.

The first step to rebuilding your own highway
is to skim off the old top layers:
the layers of selfishness,
of self righteousness,
of judgment,
of pettiness.
Only then can you put down a new layer of forgiveness,
of kindness,
of charity
of mercy
of justice,
of love.

The challenge in Advent is to
to look at each thing you do, each thing you say,
as you buy presents, decorate your home,
send cards, greet family and friends:
does each thing you do,
does every word you say proclaim love,
love for strangers as well as for family?
If you can answer yes,
then you are making straighter the highway
between you and Christ.

The paradox in this is that you will know
that you are doing the right thing
if you find yourself filled not only with a sense of joy
as we go through the holiday season,
but also discomfort:
discomfort that in this time of excess,
there are so many in this world who are hungry.
Discomfort that here in Orange County
there are women and children who will spend the holidays
living in fear of domestic violence.
Discomfort that in this season with its outpouring of warmth,
there are many elderly who are scared
that come January they may have to choose between
food and heat.

Perhaps the presents under your tree might include
a donation in a family member’s name to Safe Homes,
or a workday for the family at Habit for Humanity,
or book of invitations for an elderly neighbor
to come to dinner.

Our Lord Jesus Christ gives us an invitation now:
an invitation to come to this table
to share in this meal which he has prepared for us.
He invites us to come to his table
so that we can be renewed and refreshed in Spirit.
But then he has expectations for us:
that we will go from this table
and serve, making straighter our own highways.

Come to this table and
and then work on making straighter your own highway.
For "from his fullness,
we have all received grace upon grace.”
Amen.