Bible Text:

Newsweek and Time magazines did it again this year! They tried to analyze the Christmas story for us. They documented meticulous scholarly debates about various elements: whether Bethlehem was the site of Jesus’ birth; whether there really ever was a census when Quirinius was governor of Syria; even the content of the angels’ song came under analysis. Neither journal was disrespectful or irreligious, just analytical. 

It reminds me of the Christmas story about the minister who was driving his family to the Christmas Eve service. His 10-year-old boy said from the back seat, “Dad, are you going to tell us the Christmas story tonight, or are you going to try to explain it?” 

I have no serious problem with scholarly debate. In fact my own faith has grown through thoughtful discussion. More specifically, my faith has thrived and matured by way of such debate. I am a stronger believer tonight because of modern progressive scholarship. There is no doubt in my mind about that.  

But this is not a night for debates or for scholarship or for analysis. This is a night to celebrate the mystery that is Christmas. 

There is a new book out this year by Leonard Sweet. It has an interesting title: Out of the Questions…Into the Mystery. The book sits on my desk right now, waiting a reading sometime in the next few weeks. However, I like the title. And I like it especially tonight. It’s not questions tonight, but profound mystery. 

Don’t you think that’s what Luke describes for us in the text for tonight? After being shunted off to a stable, after the birth of her child, after the shepherds come with an amazing story and after things quiet down—Mary takes time to reflect on the mystery. 

The text tonight is an important one. It’s important for Mary. It was important for Luke (the meticulous historian). It is important for you and me. Mary pondered these things in her heart. Mary kept them to herself, holding them deep within. These were special moments for Mary—the kind we need tonight. Not analysis, but mystery. Not scholarship, but transcendence. 

One writer puts it this way:

When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the Kings and princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flocks,

The work of Christmas begins.

A few years ago we took a survey in this congregation. What is your favorite Christmas carol? Do you remember the winner? It might surprise you. Hands down, the most popular Christmas carol is “O Holy Night.” I think that says something about us. It says something about what we cherish, what we long for. 

Someone describes Christmas Eve appropriately as “stable time”, using the image of the stable in Luke. I think I like those two words. “Stable time” describes those moments of stillness we covet in our lives—a brief time when calm descends upon our world. 

Tonight is stable time for you and me. Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright. Mary took advantage of some precious moments, and so must we. 

Listen to this description by an adult woman talking about an experience of her childhood.

It happened in a large church in New York City where I grew up. During an annual Nativity pageant, the church was especially full. Hushed in darkness, the congregation watched the lighting of the candles. Toward the back, I sat, one timid little girl, with my family. Newly moved to the city after a family separation and trauma, my life had settled down, but I was still overwhelmed and homesick for my grandparents and familiar friends. That night, however, caught up in awe as organ music rolled out from balcony to rafters, I heard a familiar story I loved, and was transported to another time and place. Down the aisle swept a colorful procession as the lights went up, revealing the magnificent manger scene. Travelers, bearded shepherds and finally the three kings bearing gifts advanced majestically. Before anyone knew it, I found myself following them.

The journey down that long aisle was an early spiritual pilgrimage for me, yet it felt like a kind of homecoming. When I reached the manger scene, there were a sleepy donkey, real sheep, and Mary and Joseph beneath an angel with outstretched wings. Above all, there was a light in the manger, enfolding us in its glow. Kneeling in front of it, I had a sense of exaltation, of self-offering as real as any I have ever known since. This was real to me, and I was there. Of course, it didn’t last long. I was lifted to my feet by an usher and carried down the aisle, back to my embarrassed family, and the pageant swept on. I was vaguely aware of subdued smiles, and my parents’ whispered scolding didn’t matter. My discovery was my own, and I had something now that no one could ever take from me. I had been to Bethlehem. I had seen it all for the first time and I would never forget it.[i] 

We need to be “transported” tonight—like a child, following the strange procession. 

Mary pondered these things in her heart. She held them deep within. 

What do you suppose were her thoughts? We can only guess. 

THOUGHTS OF PEACE ON EARTH 

Perhaps her thoughts were those of peace on earth. Perhaps she offered a sigh—a deep sigh. Having heard the message of the shepherds, was her sigh a form of prayer? She knew how troubled the world was in her day. She knew the bitterness of war and hurtful ways. She knew the senseless ruthlessness of Rome. And she may have prayed, “Do I really think there could be peace on earth?” Perhaps she even pondered, “Is my son a sign of peace?” 

And don’t we wonder the same thing at this time each year? Perhaps more so tonight than for a while, with the tribal battles in Afghanistan, the bitter strife in the Sudan of Africa, the cruel hatred for Americans by some in Iraq, where a suicide bomber destroys himself and others in a tent of soldiers sitting down for lunch. We ponder, is this the time? Is this the year? Will peace on earth finally take hold? And we pray, “Make it this Christmas, dear God. Please, this year. Now.” 

THOUGHTS OF THE CHILD IN HER ARMS 

Or maybe Mary’s thoughts were about the child in her arms. He seemed to be the center of it all, the center of attention. What is he about? What will he mean? 

And should we not ponder the same thing? We should not be asking, “What will my gifts be tomorrow?” Not, “What’s for dinner?” Not “Who’s coming for dinner?” But “Who is He for me?” 

A couple of years ago the George Barna group conducted a poll asking Christians what was the most important aspect of Christmas for them. The number 1 answer by a wide margin was the answer, “Family time.” As wonderful as family time may be and will be tomorrow, it is not the most important thing about Christmas. 

“O Holy Child of Bethlehem, descend on us, we pray. Cast out our sin and enter in; be born in us today.” 

THOUGHTS ABOUT A LIFE-DEFINING MOMENT 

Maybe Mary was even thinking about a life-defining moment. This was not an ordinary night. This was not an ordinary birth. This was not an ordinary setting. Rather it was one that defines life for all time. Mary may have felt that this moment was defining or dividing history in a clear way.

Is this not what Christmas should be for us as well? For me, Christmas defines

·         The reality of God

·         The centrality of Jesus

·         The importance of a relationship with God as known in Jesus

·         The need for transformation, both personal and societal 

A tourist in the Holy Land bought a ceramic Nativity set in Bethlehem. As he prepared to leave to board his flight to return to the United States, the security guard asked him to unpack the box. He pulled out the figures of the wise men, the shepherds, Mary, Joseph and the baby. The security guard said, “I’m very sorry, but I will have to check each of these individually through the x-ray. The tourist asked, “Why? It’s a ceramic Nativity set, after all.” To which the security guard replied, “Ah yes. But these figures could contain explosives.”[ii] 

You know what? The security guard was right. This setting is explosive! 

Enjoy some “pondering time” tonight. Celebrate some moments of “stable time.” If your personal circuitry is hovering near overload, you could be on the cusp of an important transformation. God could bring you a deep peace, a life-defining moment, in the face of a tiny child. 

Marcel Proust writes, “The real voyage of discovery lies not in seeking new lands, but in seeing with new eyes.” 

See with new eyes tonight. Ponder the imponderable with Mary. Let all mortal flesh keep silence… to hear and see what God is doing.