St. Paul's On-the-Hill Episcopal Church

The Rev. Stephen C. Holton, Rector

Christmas Eve, 2007

Isaiah 9:2-7

Luke 2:1-20

GOD COMES AS A BABY INTO THE WORLD

So this is a sign? It is a sign from God that a stinking baby shall be wrapped in stinking cloths in a stinking feed trough surrounded by stinking animals and suspicious parents from out of town?

This is a sign? What about all the other kids born into equal poverty throughout the Roman empire – throughout the world even unto this day?

That's not a sign? That doesn't merit equal treatment?

What's so special about this impoverished child, one of many from that day to this?

You've got me – except the shepherds were out in the fields keeping watch over their flocks by night, all those stinking sheep, and all those angels of the Lord appeared over this commonplace but lovely pastoral scene and told the shepherds what to look for.

Like everyone in that day and in that nation the shepherds knew their Bible and knew the prophecies of the Messiah and his kingly qualities. So, like us, they probably needed to know that the princely one would not appear so princely, but would be born in a stinking stable, and wrapped in stinking cloths and laid in a feed trough between two suspicious, foreign looking parents from out of town.

If they hadn't been told this, they would never have seen the child, never looked for him and – if they had seen him by some miraculous accident, perhaps stopping for shelter in the stable during a storm or something, they would have passed right on by. What's to separate this little kid from a million more impoverished kids just like him?

But no. The angels came. 'Take a look at him,' they said. 'Take special note.'

So they do.

And the kid grows up; and teaches and heals and challenges the mighty Roman empire and dies a shameful death on a cross; as all poor, impoverished, weak people (like us) would do if they challenged mighty empires.

Except the Empire did change in response to his teaching, until at least in our present day love and healing seems like a pretty good idea, even if it doesn't yet rule the roost.

And most of us try to do it.

But most of us don't yet understand – even those of us in little churches and countless congregations and houses of worship around the world don't yet understand – that all it takes is the love of powerless people around the world to change the world.

We still think it takes Wonderful Gods, Mighty Counselors, Princes of Peace.

We still think change comes from thrones and presidents and halls of power.

So God must again point out to us with angels – that you should look instead to stinking feed troughs, and whoever is born in Phelps Hospital or Northern Westchester Hospital tonight, or a thousand or million hospitals tonight, or perhaps also in little huts in some wasteland not unlike that one in Bethlehem back then.

The power of God can come from any one or every one of those places.

The heresy of humans is to believe that true power only comes with importance, and true giftedness only comes with money.

Not so, says God. Look amid the swaddling cloths and in the feed troughs for true power, true giftedness, true love. Look anywhere.

Look to yourself. There's an unlikely spot. Look to yourself. Perhaps God, and Power, and Love, can work through you.

I asked the kids in the Sunday School to draw how they saw God working in the world, how they saw Jesus. And you see the results in the leaflet in the bulletin tonight. I thank them for their work. They see Jesus in many different ways, and I arranged them in order of power, if you will, or in order of transition from Divinity to humanity.

The theme is “God comes to you” - eventually as that stinking child we spoke of. But first Ellie's picture shows Jesus very much as God, God unmasked, God full of power – no armies or angels mind you, but teaching full of joy and power.

Then we turn the page and we see Alex's Jesus, walking along, on the road somewhere. And in Aiden's picture we see where he's headed. He has to stop and teach in a field somewhere – again, not from a throne of majesty. Thrones and majesty and worldly power are not for Jesus – just the power of his voice is enough.

Perhaps the power of your voice is enough to spread your power and love.

Perhaps words of compassion and love are all you need to make the world around you a better place – not all that money and political power we keep lusting after.

Anyway, at some point Jesus needs to take a break. Stretch out the hammock. Take a rest. That must be a friend's house he's taking a nap behind. Jesus didn't have his own home. Perhaps you can be that friend, to lend hospitality to another friend. I guess its Tyler's home, because he drew Jesus in the hammock.

And then there he is again – Charlie's Jesus – teaching I think, or perhaps calling other disciples. Do you know why I think he's calling other disciples? Because there's that little hand down there in that corner. Now Charlie put it there and there must be a reason. I think that's our hand. Put your thumb down there and be that little hand reaching up to Jesus.

“Here, call me. Send me. Tell me. Teach me. Fill me with love.”

So we turn the page and look, there we all are, in that little church of St. Paul's on-the-hill – I put that there – that little chapel on the hill which, most of you know, was a stable like the one with the stinking feed trough that Jesus was born in.

Perhaps the angels are telling us too that we should look in unlikely places, like this one, for the followers of the Prince of Peace – who can pass along peace and love and healing and compassion even though we are as powerless and comparatively impoverished as he was.

Perhaps God's love and power can dwell in our hearts almost as effectively as it did in his.

There's a spot to draw you as you see yourself; or maybe all those people in that little church, touched as they are by him.

So what now? Now, I guess, we take God's word for it, that we don't need all the power in the world to make all the change in the world. We just need all his power in us, and to start – now.

We do start now. We start tomorrow morning. And that is the miracle – that we can show love, not just domination or not just servility.

We are more than slaves or masters, unimportant or important, rich or poor people. We are all simply people. And we can all simply love. And that ability to simply love, and make a small change in the hearts of others, is embodied in that God like thing we do tomorrow, which is to give a gift simply out of love.

Maybe there are angels out there now, to some shepherds or someone saying, 'Guess what, you'll never guess. There are ordinary people in that church now, and in other churches and houses of worship all over this country. There are people of every kind in every ordinary or squalid place in this world. And they are going to give gifts to each other simply out of love. That is a sign from God.'

'Come let us worship.'

Amen