Friday, December 25, 2020

The Light of Christ. Thanks Be To God.



The Church of St. Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
December 25

Christmas Day
Isaiah 52:7-10
Psalm 98
Hebrews 1:1-4
John 1:1-14

The Light of Christ. Thanks Be To God
        Merry Christmas, everyone!
This is not exactly the Christmas we would have chosen for ourselves, but this morning, thanks to the wonder of technology, at least we can see some familiar and much-missed faces. 
As I said in my sermon last night, it has been a year, hasn’t it?
And, you know, if we were to make a list of all the things – all the people – we have missed over these many months of the pandemic, well, we would be here all day, wouldn’t we?
Even if we were to just limit our list to church people and church events, it would still take quite a while.
Think of all those Sundays we’ve missed being together for real, not just looking at Sue, Gail, and me on Facebook.
All of those baptisms and weddings, and, yes, funerals.
Confirmation.
All of those coffee hours!
All of those community suppers, and art shows, and our dinner-dance, the Pentecost picnic, the Liberty Park picnic.
We’ve missed a whole lot.
And it’s been hard to not be together for Christmas, to not see some of our littlest kids dressed as sheep in the Pageant, to not see the church in candlelight at the late service last night.
But, as hard as Christmas has been, for me, it was even more difficult to not gather during Holy Week and Easter – the central days of the Christian life.
And, as I’ve been getting ready for this morning, I’ve been especially thinking of the Great Vigil of Easter, the holiest of all of our services.
If you’ve ever attended the vigil, you may remember that we begin with the church in darkness.
In the rear of the church, we light the Paschal Candle and I have the honor of carrying it up the aisle, inviting others to draw light for their own smaller candles.
At three points I stop and chant,
“The Light of Christ.”
And the people respond,
“Thanks be to God.”
The Light of Christ. Thanks be to God.

Just like every Christmas morning, today we heard the Prologue of the Gospel of John.
John’s Christmas story is very different from the others. He doesn’t know about, or isn’t interested in, Mary and Joseph, the manger or the shepherds, or even the angels singing glory to God in the highest.
No, instead, John looks all the way back to the beginning, offering us a cosmic nativity – the Word who was with God from the start, the Word who is God, has come among us, here on earth.
The light coming into the world.
The light shining in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
The Light of Christ. Thanks be to God.

The early Christian community or communities that produced the Gospel of John, and the other texts in the New Testament attributed to John, had a lot of problems – there were many divisions – people battled over leadership of the community – some people even began to waver in their faith in Jesus.
So, it’s always struck me that a community with so much trouble could still produce a document that absolutely insists that the Light has come into the world for all people - and that this Light could not, will not be overcome, no matter what.
The Light of Christ. Thanks be to God.

But, actually, this terrible year, this Christmas when we are forced to be physically apart, has helped me to understand how John’s community could be so sure that the Light of Christ would not be overcome, no matter what.
Months ago, when I began to realize that the pandemic and our separation might go on far longer than any of us could have expected, I wondered about our church.
Would we be able to stick together?
Would we have the resources to keep going, let alone help other people?
Would our bonds of love be strong enough to keep us close even when we are apart?
But, now, on this Christmas morning, despite some really deep shadows in our world, the Light of Christ shines so bright here at St. Paul and Incarnation.
With God’s help, and thanks to the skill of our “tech support,” we’ve persevered, worshiping every Sunday, and three times each weekday, without fail.
With God’s help, we’ve offered assistance to people in trouble, both our own parishioners and neighbors and friends.
With God’s help, the Triangle Park Community Center has continued to serve hundreds of people every month – just in the past week, 25 of the young guys who spend much of their time hanging out around the park received gift bags of hats and socks and homemade cookies, baked by some of you – and 180 families came to the food pantry last Saturday, waiting in line on a bitterly cold day.
With God’s help, we made Christmas happen for so many local children, and some of our artist friends made beautiful cards for parishioners and neighbors who maybe needed just a little extra cheer this year.
With God’s help, we prayed for each other, called each other, sent out cards and notes, asked after people we hadn’t heard from for a while.
It has definitely not been easy, and we have suffered some heartbreaking losses – and this morning we should especially remember our families who are enduring their first Christmas without some cherished loved ones.
The shadows are real.
But, this Christmas, despite our fears and losses, despite our very real separation, after all we’ve been through, like John’s community long ago, we can be absolutely sure that the Light of Christ has come among us.
The Light of Christ has been shining so bright – and our troubles can never and will never overcome it.
The Light of Christ.
Thanks be to God.
Merry Christmas, everybody.
Amen.