The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
December 24, 2020
Christmas Eve
Isaiah 9:2-7
Psalm 96
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-20
Holy Waiting
Merry Christmas, everyone!
This is definitely not the kind of Christmas Eve that any of us really wanted or would have chosen for ourselves, but it is still beautiful to be together even in this distant way.
Despite everything, it is Christmas!
Although this is a working holiday for me, I still look forward to Christmas every year - in a grown up sort of way, of course.
But, when I was a kid, I literally could not wait for Christmas.
I used to get so excited thinking about what presents I might get, really working myself up as I carefully made my list, trying not to be greedy, trying not to go overboard, but also not wanting to sell myself short, either.
Some in my family have even suggested that, in the weeks and days leading up to Christmas, it’s possible that I may have taken a peek or two around the house, looking for a sneak preview of what my parents might have gotten me for Christmas.
I can neither confirm nor deny these claims.
And then early on Christmas morning – so early that it was still dark – so early that it might have been the middle of the night, my sister Karen and I would get up and make our way downstairs, soon joined by my bleary-eyed mom and dad, as we joyfully opened our gifts and started playing with our toys and games.
Maybe some of you were the same way.
Maybe some of your kids or grandchildren are that way now – and you’re looking at very few hours of sleep tonight.
And, actually, in normal times the world literally can’t wait for Christmas – the store decorations go up earlier and earlier – nowadays creating a kind of mash-up with Halloween.
But, this year has been different.
Boy, has this year been different.
In normal times, the season of Advent, the holy time of preparation and waiting gets steamrolled by the world’s Christmas – barely acknowledged except by the churchiest among us.
But, this year, this Advent, we’ve all been forced to wait – forced to wait for a vaccine, forced to wait before we can gather again with many of the people we love, forced to wait for life to get to whatever the new normal is going to be.
Here in church, this Advent we’ve been waiting with John the Baptist who announces that the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit is on the way.
We’ve been waiting with Mary as all that was foretold by the angel begins to unfold, as the holy child grows in her womb.
We’ve been waiting with Joseph as he righteously stands by Mary, at great cost to himself.
This Advent we’ve been forced to wait.
Maybe we have related to Mary and Joseph like we never have before – this couple making their way in an unfamiliar land, doing their best to meet their heavy responsibilities during really tough times - there was no room at the inn, and there were no mothers or grandmothers or neighbors around to midwife their child into the world.
Maybe it’s because of all the suffering, all the loneliness we have experienced these many months, but in my own prayer I keep returning to Mary and Joseph far from home, no one there to help them, relying on their own strength and ingenuity and, of course, on God’s grace.
And then, at last, the wait is over.
The child is born.
The young peasant girl Mary has successfully carried the Son of God into the world – recognized by almost no one, it’s true, just a few shepherds who were tipped off by an angel, and one of these days, there will be some mysterious visitors from the East, following a star, bearing precious gifts.
Tonight, for Mary and Joseph and for us, the waiting – this holy waiting – has come to an end.
It’s Christmas, at last.
But, it’s also true that for Mary and Joseph and for us, the holy waiting will continue.
Like all parents, Mary and Joseph will have to wait to see the child learn about the world, take his first steps, say his first words.
They will have to wait to see what sort of person he will be. Will he be good craftsman like Joseph? Someday will they work side by side in the shop?
And, most important of all, they will have to wait a while before the child learns about God – finally recognizing who he really is.
Mary and Joseph will have to wait to see if what the angel had foretold will really come to pass. Could this helpless infant really be the Son of God? Will he truly inherit David’s throne and rule forever?
And what will this cost him?
How can these things be?
And, come to think of it, God is going to have to wait, too.
Newborn Jesus would have known his mother’s heartbeat and recognized her voice, and maybe Joseph’s voice, too, but that’s about it.
All the rest will take time.
When I was a kid, I literally could not wait for Christmas but, by around 5:30 in the morning, all the gifts had been opened, and Christmas was pretty much done for me.
And, that’s how it is with the world’s Christmas isn’t it?
In just a day or two, the decorations will start to come down, and discarded trees will start to appear on the sidewalk, stripped of their ornaments, ready to be hauled away.
But, for us, Christmas is ongoing – yes, for twelve days, but longer even than that.
Thanks to Mary’s yes, and the righteousness of Joseph, God has entered the world in and through Jesus.
It’s already happened.
And yet, at the same time, we also wait for it to happen.
The priest and writer Henri Nouwen once wrote, “We can only really wait if what we are waiting for has already begun for us. So waiting is never a movement from nothing to something. It is always a movement from something to something more.”
Today, we are the Body of Christ.
Today, we are called to bear Jesus into the world – into a world that is particularly sad and frightened and angry these days – we are called to bear Jesus into a world that so longs for good news, so needs light to shine in the shadows – a sick world that is being forced to wait like it has never waited before.
This is all going to take some time.
But, our waiting is not like an impatient kid waiting for Christmas to finally get here already, so very eager to tear open the presents and then get on to the next thing.
No, our holy waiting is patient, because we know what began on that holy night in Bethlehem – the teaching and the healing, the dying and the rising again.
Our holy waiting is calm, because we know the love of people like my parents, who were unable to see the future but were still willing to give their all for their children, even when they were really, really tired.
Our holy waiting is confident, because we know the faith of our spiritual ancestors, the faith of the people who built two churches in Jersey City, not knowing how it would all turn out, but trusting that God would make good use of their work.
Our holy waiting is faithful, because we know that the angel‘s promise has been fulfilled, is being fulfilled, will be fulfilled.
Yes, there is more holy waiting ahead for us, as we move from something to something more.
But, for now, let’s just sit with an exhausted and overjoyed Mary and Joseph, welcoming the holy child into the world.
Merry Christmas to you all.
Amen.
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