Christmas Eve Early    

December 24, 2013

Matthew 1:18-25; 1 John 4:7-16

In Nomine Jesu

On Christmas night, when all is clad in white, when angels fill the night air, and the unquenchable love of God is about to be born in flesh, in grand mystery, we have a scandal on our hands. Given the customs of the time, Mary was probably just out of puberty—14 or 15 at the most. Like countless other young women, before or since, she had turned up pregnant before the wedding day. The night air now rings with gossip. Was she just curious? Was it a case of adolescent rebellion? Did she just throw herself at the first guy who said, “I love you?” Whatever it was, she had given herself prematurely. Meanwhile, Joseph becomes Bethlehem’s village idiot. How could he not know? How could he be so blind? Perhaps the scales were removed from his eyes and heart by the jeering jokes of other men, the causal thorny lines they say when they have been cheated upon by their wives or fiancées. However the news came, one thing was certain: it hurt.

Joseph was torn. He loved Mary. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Feeling betrayed by his beloved and by God Himself his emotions were running in overdrive. “I can’t believe she has done this to me. Why? I have prayed. I have cried. I have sought a way out, but no exit appears. Maybe she is telling the truth, but only a fool would believe that. I don’t seek to publicly shame her though. I have nothing to gain by doing that. I will spare her the public humiliation. Though I am filled with pain, I will lie down and hope for a restful night. Tomorrow I will quietly send her away.” Here is real flesh trying to make sense of the coming of the Word made flesh. What appears to be outright scandal in the light of man’s heart and will, becomes quite another in the night of silence, in the hearing of an angelic messenger, and in expectant yet jittery Advent waiting. The angel of the Lord interrupted the nightmare visions of brokenness and estrangement that devilishly danced in the theater of Joseph’s dreams. The hope and newness of all the earth takes shape under a scandal. But it’s not the scandal of immorality. The real scandal is that God is enfleshed for us, the scandal of manger, cross, and empty grave. The real scandal is that we have been scandalized by the immense love of God. How could God love so much? How could He give up so much? And for what? For me?   

That God’s love is found in a manger, naked and helpless, crying for poor beggars to take care of Him, that’s a scandal. That God’s love is seen and manifested in the death of God, that’s a scandal. That God’s love conquers death, and yet alive He stands with paradise renewed for all creation, that’s a scandal. After all, we only thought that God was an occasional visitor in this life, if present at all. We only thought that like a puppeteer God pulls the strings of the good and cuts the strings of the naughty. We only thought that He was “up there” beyond the clouds, maybe somewhere in the future, when we die perhaps. Never did we think for a moment, like Mary and Joseph, that He would willingly and physically insert Himself in the menacing messes of manure we call life. Never have we listened to the messengers of God. Nor have we believed that their word is the very Word of God. Never have we loved God. “Human nature,” observes Luther, “is so submerged in sin that it cannot think or feel anything correct about God. It does not love God; it hates Him violently” [AE 27:65]. When all of humanity didn’t believe, didn’t love, didn’t trust, God came with His belief, His love, and His promised fulfilled, His sign revealed, with His flesh anew. Mary became pregnant by the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit. The breath, the life, the love of God dwelt in the womb of Mary. She will bear this life, this love, and Joseph will call this life, this love, Jesus. For love is Jesus and Jesus is love. Beloved, herein is love. Not that we have loved God, but that He has loved us. Here is the love that can be seen, heard, touched, and received. Here is the embodiment of the love of God that feeds, nourishes, and forgives His people. 

The Bethlehem mystery will ever be a scandal to disciples who seek nice, neat, and sterilized presents of love. Love is messy. Love covers and handles sin. Love is shown in ways that man often does not understand, but yet are to him an open door to mercy and life. The infant Jesus was born in crude and bear circumstances. His parents were poor and were of no social status. His chosen welcoming committee was braying asses, mindless oxen, and dirt-poor shepherds. In this weakness and poverty the broken sinners of the world come to know the true impact of the love of God. The lowly and scandalized way in which God comes to earth reminds us that He comes for those who are scandalized, those who are horrified by what their life has become. In the weakness of love you find its greatest strength: to bend low and to bear, to suffer and to extend emotion so as to give the hope and promise of new life.

Sadly, much of Christian piety down through the centuries has often romanticized the Babe of Bethlehem. Christian art has trivialized the divine scandal into gingerbread mangers and the iconic holy family is airbrushed without a care in the world. Christian worship has sentimentalized the smells of the stable into funny and cute pageants. Pious imagination, a longing for the past, and the nostalgic syrupy songs that take us there routinely rob us of the scandal and the love of that first Christmas Eve. But the forlorn, the Mary’s and the Joseph’s, the shamed and the fallen, the penitent and the contrite, they tremble in adoration of the Christ-child. They receive with trembling hands the in breaking of God’s immeasurable love, this tiny bundle of joy to this lifeless world.     

The scandal of this Christmas night is not only that God is with us, but that we have come to worship Him, love divine, greater than all our love. Christmas is not about family and friends, feasts and football, eggnog and cookies, trees and presents, missal toe and warm fuzzies. These things come and they go. They are done and enjoyed by pagans all around the world. Human love, however noble, however highly motivated, falls short. The merry nature of the Christ-mass is the ferocious all-consuming and merciful love of Christ. The intimacy of Christmas is the love of God in human flesh; the God above comes to us below. Not only acquainted with our guilt and shame, but bearing it in His body, a love that handles, covers, and swallows whole the mess of our sin and death. On one of the darkest days of the year, the light of the Son of God made man explodes all around us. Heavens gift slips through the small door of Bethlehem. The hope you were waiting for has come. The love you never thought possible has enveloped you in true body and true blood. Take and eat this flesh/love. Take and drink this blood/love. It’s all for you. This night love is born and it has changed you forevermore. And this, even if you don’t’ feel like it. You are no longer a son of Adam. You are a child of Christ. You are born anew in His ocean wide love. You are the offspring of His redeeming and eternal love. 

              In the Name of the Father and of the Son [+] and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.