The Work of Christmas

Propers: The First Sunday of Christmas, AD 2021 C

Homily:

Lord, we pray for the preacher, for You know his sins are great.

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Good morning all, and merry Christmas. I hope your celebrations have been blessed. I hope that even though no holiday is perfect, you nonetheless welcomed Christ into your hearts and homes, amongst family and friends, in peace and in joy. And if not, well, there’s still plenty of time to get to those traditions that you might not quite have managed to fit in as yet, what with all that you’ve had on your plate.

For it is still Christmas, you know: the second day, St Stephen’s Day, and first Sunday of our 12-day Christmas season. And in some ways, this right here is the best part. Now that the frenzy might abate a bit, now that the presents have been gifted, the gifts presented, the dinners cooked, the sweets enjoyed, and the mulled wine has perhaps cooled—now we can calm down and know Christmas for what it is.

It’s not the presents. It’s not the food. It’s not our favorite books or films. It’s not even the eggnog, for which I’ve rather developed a fondness. Christmas is the presence of God in our midst: as a Child in a manger, as a Fire in the hearth, as a sacred Tree of Life sprouting up annually, evergreen, in the middle of our living rooms.  In the Incarnation, in the birth of God as one of us, the divisions between Creator and Creation, the holy and the humble, the sacred and the profane, are dissolved—torn asunder with the veil of the Temple, or the sky over the Baptism of our Lord.

Jesus is Emmanuel, “God-With-Us,” among us, within us; so that together we are Jesus now, His Church, His Bride, His Body; and individually we are each a Mary. To paraphrase John Chrysostom—at least, I think it was him—it does us no good to believe that Christ was born of Mary then, if He is not born of us today, born through us into our own culture and our own time.

Christmas is a miracle, but Pentecost! Pentecost cracks the miracle open, sends it out to live among us, to live within us, so that our homes are the homes to which Jesus Christ is now born; our families become the one family, the holy family, by which God enters our world now anew. Such is always the call to the Church: to be Jesus for a world in need of Him; to be filled with His Spirit, His Body, His Blood, so that together we become Him, we all become the Son of God. And we are sent out to bring Jesus to all of God’s people.

And how do we do that, exactly? How do sinners like us, ever in need of forgiveness, ever in need of new beginnings, go out to be Jesus for others, for everyone? Well, thankfully Paul lays it all out for us this morning in his epistle to the Colossians.

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you must also forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.

Now, to be honest, that sounds like a pretty tall order, doesn’t it? In fact, it sounds to Lutheran ears like a word of the Law: as though Paul were setting us up to fail, in order to show us our need for Jesus, our need for grace. But it’s more than that. On the one hand, we can’t just dismiss this as too high of a bar; while on the other hand, we mustn’t think of it as something that we have to do in order to earn God’s grace, earn God’s love—which indeed is freely given to us in Christ Jesus.

To clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, meekness, patience, ever forgiving, ever binding all things together in the harmony of love, isn’t what we have to do in order to get free. Rather, this is what freedom looks like. This is how Jesus lives. And for most of us this won’t be some sort of presto-changeo, bolt-from-the-blue, instant conversion experience. It takes a lifetime of spiritual effort: of dwelling in God’s Word, of confessing our sins, of praying without ceasing, of getting up again.

Yet that’s what love is. Love is effort. Love is choice. Love is a labor of the will, the hard work of putting the good of others even before our own. And that hurts. But cures often do! Most everything worthwhile is difficult, including Christianity. See, if you’re like I am, then you look at Paul’s list here and think, “Compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience? Brother, that just ain’t me. I ain’t wired like that.” But no-one is, really. I mean, maybe a few. But for most of us these aren’t simply emotions or dispositions. They’re goals, hard goals.

But that doesn’t mean that we fake it. That’s always the easy way out, is it not? We’ve all encountered Christians or churches or even religious supply stores where folks are so obviously disingenuous: where the smiles are fake and the language is smarmy. That’s not what Paul’s getting at. Love must be honest—not just nice, not just pretending. There is no love without truth, after all, and no truth without love. It can be hard to be humble, in a narcissistic world. It can be hard to forgive, in a culture that has Twitter.

Forgiveness, mind you, doesn’t mean forgive-and-forget. It doesn’t mean pretending that something didn’t happen. That’s the easy way out again, and it’s a lie. Forgiveness means being honest, about our own sin as well as that of others. And it means going forward together—not as we were. Relationships may need to change in the wake of certain things. Sometimes going forward together means saying goodbye: but without rancor, and for the right reasons, out of honesty and love.

So the question still remains: How do we do this? How do we manage it, when we are so weak, and love must be so strong? Again, St Paul has us covered:

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

See, it isn’t really we who do this, but Christ who dwells within us. And that’s classic Paul. “Jesus, take the wheel!” as it were. It’s not our compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, or patience. It’s not our forgiveness, not even our love. It’s Jesus. It’s His love within us, His Spirit within us, His Body around us, of which we all are a part. When in doubt, dwell in Him, turn to Him, that He live through you.

And Paul is very practical about this. Look at all that we have to be thankful for, he says. Turn to the Word of God, not lightly but richly. Embrace education and learning; teach one another. Visit many books but live within the Bible. And sing! Turn to music, to hymns, to psalms, to songs; to the richness and joy and the beauty of art. Fill yourself up with all that is beautiful, good, and true—for such things are not simply of God, but are God, who is the Good, the True, and the Beautiful.

Immerse yourself in prayer, in community, in wisdom, in service. Be honest, but never cruel. Stay wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Love God with all you are and all you have, and love your neighbor as yourself: not more than yourself, not less than yourself, but as yourself. That is how Christ dwells within us, that we may each be as refreshing and transparent as a cool, clear glass of water.

And this is not a Word of Law! This isn’t about earning anything. This is grace, pure grace. God has given to us His very self, His Breath and Blood and Body, to sustain us throughout this life. And He has given us all these innumerable opportunities, each and every day, to be Jesus for each other, to be Jesus for the world. What greater honor could there be? What greater joy could we obtain? What greater goal could life afford us than to live as Christ the Lord?

And there is no expiration date, no limited number of tries. What, must God forgive us even seven times? No, I tell you, but seventy times seven! That’s the joy of resurrection. We fail, we fall, we sin, we despair, and God says to us: “Okay. Here’s a whole new day. Here’s a bright clean slate. You are My beloved child. I will never let you go, I will never stop forgiving you, and I will never give up on you, ever. I have gone to hell and back for you. Now go out there and do My work.”

And behold, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.

The sun came up this morning, and it is Christmas. Now go, my beloved, in joy and in peace, for Christ is with you, always. Make it Christmas wheresoever you may roam. For through you, and through your brothers and your sisters, Jesus Christ is even now saving all of this world in His love.

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