Friday, December 25, 2015

Home Finds Us


St. Paul’s Church in Bergen and Church of the Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
December 24, 2015

Christmas Eve
Isaiah 62:6-12
Psalm 97
Titus 3:4-7
Luke 2:1-20

Home Finds Us
            “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”
            Merry Christmas to you all!
            Maybe you heard about this modern-day Christmas story:
            Back in November a mother left her newborn son (with his umbilical cord still attached) in the crèche of a Roman Catholic church in Queens.
            Fortunately, a church maintenance worker found the baby who was fine and has been placed in a foster home.
            The pastor of the church nicknamed the baby “John the Baptist,” but, as sometimes happens, it turns out that the lay people are better theologians than the clergy. They’ve been calling the baby left in their Nativity scene “Emmanuel” – God with us – which sounds just right to me.
            This story of an obviously distraught and desperate mother searching for a safe place for her baby – searching for a home for her newborn child – has really moved me this past month and maybe it’s touched your hearts, too.
            How could it not, right?
            Of course, that poor mother searching for a home for her baby wasn’t – isn’t – alone.
            No, not at all.
            So many people are searching for home – searching for home where they can love and be loved – searching for home where they can be safe – searching for home where they can be accepted just as they are – searching for home where they can truly find rest.
            Out in the world, we are all aware of the huge wave of refugees fleeing the Middle East and Africa. Here at St. Paul’s we’ve been praying for them week after week – praying for these people forced to flee home because of war, oppression, or economic necessity – praying for these people forced to search for a new home – forced to search for a new home in places where people speak different languages and live different cultures and practice different religions and, as we know only too well, are not always willing to welcome newcomers with open arms.
            So many people are searching for home.
            And, around here at St. Paul’s, we’ve become increasingly aware of our homeless brothers and sisters and those of us who are just one month’s rent away from homelessness.
            We’ve become aware of our homeless brothers and sisters as some of them have become part of our church community, worshiping with us, breaking bread with us, hopefully receiving here some sense of God’s special love for the poor and hungry.
            So many people are searching for home.
            And, among our own St. Paul’s congregation, so many of us are far from home this Christmas – far from the islands, far from Africa, far from wherever it is that we grew up and first celebrated Christmas with our families and neighbors.
            Because of distance or death, so many of us are far from our happiest Christmases – far from those we love and loved – far from our parents, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, and children.
            So many people are searching for home – searching for home where they can love and be loved – searching for home where they can be safe – searching for home where they can be accepted just as they are – searching for home where they can truly find rest.
            And, it would seem that Christmas is all about us searching for home.
            After all, in the gospel lesson I just read, Mary and Joseph, not unlike the distraught woman in Queens, were searching for a temporary home – looking for a safe place to deliver their child into the world.
            They found a place, of course. It wasn’t much - just barely enough.
            Luke tells us, famously, that Mary had to place her newborn son into a manger, which sounds kind of nice until we remember that a manger is just a fancy word for a feeding trough meant for, and used by, animals.
            And, we know later in the story Herod will get wind of the birth of the new king and go on a murderous rampage, slaughtering the innocent children of Bethlehem and forcing Mary and Joseph with their child Jesus to flee to Egypt.
            It would seem that Christmas is all about us searching for home.
            But, actually – and here’s the really good news - it’s just the reverse.
            At Christmas, home finds us.
            At Christmas, home finds us.
            I opened my sermon with a beautiful and true prayer from St. Augustine: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”
            We were made for God and so our true home is not the house or apartment we live in – our true home isn’t the West Indies or Africa or Jersey City or wherever we grew up – our true home isn’t even St. Paul’s or Incarnation or any other church.
            Our true home is God.
            Our true home is God. 
            It’s with God that we love and are loved – it’s with God that we are safe - it’s with God that we can be accepted just as we are – it’s with God that we can truly find rest.
            So, the Good News of Christmas is that we can stop searching for home.
            In the feeding trough in Bethlehem, home finds us.
            In Jesus’ life of love and sacrifice, home finds us.
            And, in Jesus’ giving of himself on the cross and rising on the third day, home finds us.
            God is our home.
            And, starting at Christmas, home finds us.
            Now, that doesn’t mean that the world out there is any less of a mess. Sorry. It is.
            The world remains a hard place where a desperate woman might leave her newborn son in a church – a hard place where refugees are forced to flee their lands into the unknown and the often unwelcoming – a hard place where here in Jersey City so many people lack shelter or are this close to losing the little they have – a hard place where many of us live far from those we love – a hard place filled with anger and fear and disrespect.
            So, yes, we have plenty of work to do to follow the example of Jesus and live lives of love and sacrifice.
            But… we can do that work confidently, courageously, and joyfully because we know that God is our home.
            And, at Christmas, at last, home finds us.
            Merry Christmas!
            “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”
            Home.
            Amen.