This sermon was preached at Glenwood and Canoe Ridge Lutheran Churches, Decorah, Iowa on December 24, 2019. It’s based on Isaiah 9:2-7 and Luke 2:1-20. If you’d prefer to listen to it, find it at https://soundcloud.com/stacey-nalean-carlson/.
Isaiah 9:2-7
2 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. 3You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder. 4For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. 5For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. 6For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.
Luke 2:1-20
1In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3All went to their own towns to be registered. 4Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
8 In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12This will be a sign for you: you will find a
child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another,
“Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has
made known to us.” 16So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.
GIVEN
Beloved of God, grace and peace to you from the Christ child, born this night for you. Amen.
We began this journey to the manger on the first Sunday of Advent, when I stood here and asked you, How are you? How are you really? What do you need?
Tonight, as we kneel at the manger to worship the Savior given to us, what has the Advent journey awakened in you? What have the angels said to you? Where has the star led you? And what do you need now? On this night?
Sometimes I’m not sure we even know what we need. What will bring us the peace for which we yearn? What will rest the thoughts that race through our heads? What will spark the joy we long to experience?
As we began our journey to the manger, I could not have told you what I would need each day. But God knew.
As we’ve walked this road together, I’ve been invited to live in hope, to be alert to God’s redeeming presence even in the midst of suffering and injustice. I’ve been drawn toward singing and sighing, laughter and lament. I’ve been invited to rest securely in the loving care of my Shepherd, to hear God’s word of forgiveness for me.
I’ve been led, over and over again, to pray with the psalms (Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer) and to find God’s blessing in the joy and in the grief. God has found me in light streaming through a stained glass window and in the youngest among us ringing their bells and telling the Christmas story anew.
I’ve dreamed of a world where hope grows and love wins. I’ve lived with regret and with grace. I’ve heard all creation singing of the peace that’s always near, of the joy that calms all fear.
And what do I need now? On this night?
What do you need on this Christmas Eve?
What does the world need this night and every night to come?
I had a beautiful conversation with my mom over the weekend. She told me she feels like part of her gift to each person is the time she spends thinking about them, envisioning the world they wake up to every morning, imagining what they might most need and appreciate, and then finding a gift that’s just right.
It seems to me that this is how God operates. God looks on the world with love and gives us just what we need.
Could we ever have guessed that we needed God to show up in a vulnerable baby, that the long-awaited Messiah would be a child, placed in a manger because there was no place for him and his family?
Could we ever have guessed the world would be turned upside down—the oppressed set free, the hungry fed, the rich sent away empty—not by power and privilege but by reliance on God alone?
Could we ever have guessed that we needed a Savior who would be a servant, kneeling to wash the feet of his friends?
Could we ever have guessed that we needed a King who would go not to war against his enemies, but to the cross to offer them radical forgiveness?
Could we ever have guessed that the love put to death on that cross would rise again and that in that rising we would have all we need to live in hope?
The child born for us, the son given to us, is all we need this night and every night to come.
With water and the Word, we’re united with Christ so that we might rise with Christ.
In bread and wine, we become Christ—his very body alive and loving this world into life.
Empowered by his Spirit, we go into the world to make known the good news of great joy for all people: to you is born this day a Savior. Do not be afraid.
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in the baby born this night. And this baby, the Christ child, responds, in his life and in his death, to every single hope to which we cling and every single fear we lay at his feet. And when fear threatens to devour us, to render us immobile, to steal away our hopes and our dreams, the angel’s word becomes Christ’s own: Do not be afraid.
You, terrified, perplexed, tired, thrilled, weak, strong, sad, eager…
You, wondering, waiting, frightened, doubting…
You, asking how. You, asking why.
You, unsatisfied with the answers you’ve been given…
You, frustrated with silence and inaction…
You, who do not even know what you need anymore…
God knows.
And what you need is here: in water and the Word, in bread and wine, in the church–in heaven and on earth–gathered to share in the joy of all creation this night.
Your Savior is here, beloved, given to you. Amen.