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.
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