Oh the weather outside is frightful,
but the fire is so delightful,
and since we’ve no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
To be honest, I’m devastated that we are not gathering together at Cochrane Street United Church this evening. The thought of not being together as a congregation on a night like this, to celebrate this most wondrous story is frankly, unthinkable to me. It is, however, a reminder that we often take such things for granted, things like a Christmas Eve service or the birth of Jesus Christ, born in a manger in Bethlehem so many years ago. Situations like this help us to remember that such things are perhaps more complicated, more entangled; messier than we initially assume.
When we contemplate, reflect upon, and commemorate Jesus’ birth it is easy to romanticize that night in Bethlehem. We sing carols that speak of silent nights, telling us “little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes” – we think of the nativity in idealized terms, softened and censored. But that is not the reality of the story, the real story of Christmas is much more complex, much messier than we would like to admit.
“In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph 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. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And 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” (Luke 2:1-7, NRSV).
There are a lot of details missing from this story: a lot of crying, screaming, pushing – a lot of literal blood, sweat, and tears are missing from this story. The incarnation and nativity of Jesus Christ is raw, it is messy, it is human.
When we talk about our own Christmases, we often try to idealize our own situations as well. We do not talk about the grief and sadness many of us experience at this time of year, we do not speak of awkward and challenging family dynamics that we may have to encounter. Instead we take the messiness of our lives and try and hide it, opting to become picture perfect like a Hallmark Christmas movie, rather than come face to face with the reality of the situation.
On a messy evening such as this, with snow and ice and wind, I take great comfort in knowing that the very first Christmas happened in such less than ideal circumstances, it was not picture perfect, and the circumstances were not the making of a Hallmark movie.
It is the story of long journey to partake in a census ordered by a tyrant. It is the story of an inn with no vacancies. It is the story of a young and scared girl giving birth to her son with no midwife or other medical personnel to be seen. It is the story of a birth among animals with nothing but a feeding trough to act as a crib for the child. And yet, this is the birth of God. This is the birth of Jesus Christ in less than perfect circumstances. There is nothing more human than for God, who could have come to earth with power, might, and authority, to instead be born as a helpless child, to a young woman in poverty, among animals and laid in a manger.
At Christmas, we celebrate that Jesus Christ was born into this world fully human and fully divine – and that means he is born to fully experience what that means – both celebration and sorrow, both tears of joy and tears of sadness, experiencing all that human life has to offer, both the good and the bad.
At Christmas it is easy for us to focus on making sure that everything is perfect: we seek to make our homes perfect, to do all of this baking, decorate to the nines, purchase extravagant gifts, to present our lives as “picture perfect,” but the hope of Christmas is that Christ will still be born, even in less than ideal circumstances. Even if all of our Christmas preparation doesn’t get finished, Christ will still be born. Actually, as much as it pains me to say, even if do not gather together in our Church on this the holiest of nights, Christ will still be born. Christ is born in less than ideal circumstances, no matter if nothing is done to prepare for Christmas, Christ will be born again and again, regardless of if our homes are ready and regardless of whether we have a Christmas Ever service or not. Jesus Christ will be born again and again in our hearts and in our world, today and everyday, because God is in the business of taking the less than ideal, the messy, the disastrous even; and turning it into something wonderful, something magical, something so special that language fails to do it justice.
Jesus Christ is in the business of being human, along with all of the messiness that entails. Jesus Christ comes into the world, complete with the literal blood, sweat, and tears with which we all enter this world. And Jesus Christ cries the holiest of tears as Joseph wipes the amniotic fluid from his body as he hands her to Mary and she smiles despite her exhaustion. And in the midst of that holy mess, Christmas happens. In the midst of the messes that our lives can be, Christmas happens. In the midst of this messy and stormy night, Christmas happens.
And so we remember that this messy night is a holy night; just as God intended – it is a night of messes, a night of surprises, a night that is very human. It is a night that does not go the way that we expect it to, it is a night that challenges us and inspires us, all at the same time. This night, this holiest of nights, is a reminder that God’s love will always find a way to break through in our lives, despite the wind and the snow, the messiness that we encounter, even (or perhaps, especially) when things do not work out perfectly. God doesn’t deal with perfect, God deals with messes and storms and snow and babies born to young mothers in stables -- and from those things God creates holiness, hope, peace, joy, and love where those things seem impossible.
This night, this Christmas night, let us take comfort in the knowledge that God is with us in the midst of imperfection, creating everything out of nothing, making hope radiate from stables, seeing the perfectness in imperfection turning it into wonderful, majestic, and magical possibilities.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not, will not, cannot, overcome it. For that good news, thanks be to God! Alleluia! Amen.
Oliver Dingwell
Tuesday, December 24, 2019