SERMONS

Genesis 1:1-5; John 1:1-5; Micah 5:2-5, Luke 2 and Matthew 2

The Reverend Angela L. Ying
Bethany United Church of Christ
Christmas Eve, 2009

In the beginning, God created.

Heavens. Earth. You name it. God could create it.

First words out of God’s mouth, recorded in the Scriptures: Let there be light.

And lo and behold, there was light.

Guess we weren’t the only ones scared of the dark.

God saw that the light was good, so God gave it a new name, Day and the dark that had been there before, God renamed Night.

That was the first evening and the first morning.

God thought of a Sky and of the waters; God made Seas and

God made Earth.

And God saw that it was good. You wouldn’t expect otherwise, but it is reassuring that what God creates is good.

For many of the things created now by humans cannot be called good. Things that do not last—things that are made not to last—things made to intentionally break down. How strange is that? But what God made. God saw that it was good.

God put up the Sun and the Moon to get a better perspective of things. God placed stars all over to twinkle, twirl and dance across the sky.

Then God went all out and created sea monsters and living creatures of every kind.

Didn’t forget one! Not one! And God saw that it was good. One would think that God would have known when to quit when God was ahead, but that’s not who God is. God isn’t into success and being successful.

God created human beings—in God’s image, male and female, God created them.

Don’t know what God was thinking! God blessed, God made fruitful, God gave every plant, every tree, every beast, every bird and everything thing that creeps on the earth—even the creepy crawlies that give us the hee bee gee bees—God created them!

And God saw everything that God made, and indeed, it was good.

In other words, God looked at you. God looked at me. God held us up, checked us out, breathed upon us and somehow could still call what God saw—Good. Called us Good! Gave us a better evaluation than we often give ourselves.

And then, God did something really unheard of.

God came down.

Left God’s high and holy heavens and came right on down to earth.

What was God thinking? Had God lost God’s mind. And yet, I remember—let God be God!

God thinks and acts differently. Unlike Emperor Caesar Augustus, God isn’t into power and privilege.

Unlike King Herod, God isn’t into who is in and keeping who is out, out by means of genocide. Unlike Governor Quirinius, God doesn’t need to use force and manipulation for all of the people to be counted. For God who came down is God of the oppressed. God who came down is a suffering God who can heal all things. Ever wonder what this cosmic, global God is doing in the local village of Bethlehem just south of the great city of Jerusalem?

What is God doing in the little town of Bethlehem, where even the bus driver or taxi cab on graveyard shift would have no clue exactly how to get there?

That God would bother to be at a place so insignificant the only way to get there was by starlight—and even then—that would take faith.

When God came down, who was there to hear it?—but some every day workers looking out for others late at night.

Why would God come down in such a way? God could do anything—anytime, anywhere, anyhow.

This cosmic, global God could create anything God wanted.

So, why would God do it this way? No fanfare.

No fuss.

No federal mandate. I don’t know. But this I believe. God came.

And for those who could hear it as good news of a great joy—knew it was not just for you and for me, but for all the people.

For any group of people who mistakenly thought this was exclusively for them, the angels repeat their words “Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace to all the people.” Hearing this news as good news, the shepherds go and head to the south end—it is the south end—to see what has taken place, which God makes known to them. And when they had seen Christ, they spread the word and returned rejoicing—glorifying and praising God. Not so for King Herod. Everyone at the time knew who the ruler was and it was King Herod, who also had been given the title “King of the Jews” by the Roman Empire.

“Herod knew how power worked. He connected with Julius Caesar until Caesar was killed, then convinced Mark Antony that he was on Antony’s side. When emperor Caesar Augustus overthrew Mark Antony, Herod said he had really

been Caesar Augustus’ guy all along.” No, not everyone saw God’s coming as good news even when it was meant for all the people. Herod was disturbed and became fearful. In short, he is threatened and he will stop at almost nothing to remain the ruler and the one in power. In the Scriptures, it states clearly that it was not just King Herod who was disturbed and became fearful, it was Herod “and all Jerusalem with him.”

This was not a one man act, but the collaboration, approval and inner workings of an entire city. An entire city backed Herod, or so they said.

All the chief priests or Pharisees are called together by Herod.

They recall the prophet Micah’s words that “You, Bethlehem are by no means least among the rulers of Judah. For out of you, out of this tiny village, will come a ruler who will be the shepherd of God’s people.”

Of all the places to come down, it is not the biggest city of Jerusalem, but the humble town of Bethlehem that God comes.

If this is to happen in the tiny village of Bethlehem south of the great city of Jerusalem, why didn’t Herod just brush it off? Forget about it.

Herod knew it was just the south end. Perhaps, it is the fact that foreigners—foreigners, of all people —-with not just intellect but with means, were following this star—was very troubling. Not just the working class shepherds in the fields, but also the highly educated foreigners with gifts to share—were the ones seeking the Messiah, in Beth-lehem. And the last thing a ruling ruler wants—is for people of different races and classes to come together and worship God and their Savior!

For things would surely change when Grace comes to the least.

When the One who comes is good news to the poor.

When God comes down, God wants to know not how big the community is, but rather how forgiving, how just, and how generous—the people in the community are, which is much often immeasurable.

When God comes down, God wants to know not how successful an individual or community is, but rather whether we as church are being faithful and authentic.

And that means we cease to measure ourselves and each other by the standards of Caesar—enjoying his approval.

Paradoxically, the more powerless the church becomes, the more it can become God’s Church. For this cosmic, global God goes completely local—with a powerless, penniless, Jewish peasant girl, Mary who dares to say “Yes” to God and with Joseph, a humble carpenter and his carpenter’s shop.

Our Global God chooses to be in a local carpenter’s shop

in a local community of faith Here is where God chooses to be. For here is where God can shepherd the people and the people still look up for guidance and hope. Here is where God can lead foreigners to face Herod and expose the Herods of the world for who they are, by finding another way.

Here is where God has placed God’s hopes and fears—in God’s local carpenter’s shop, called the church.

Trusting:

That 600 families looking for food each week here at this very corner won’t be turned away. That refugees and immigrants seeking assistance will be welcomed and find there is room. That children whose parents are out of work or who work two jobs and speak another language can get a Headstart on education.

That a teenage boy in the community whose father risks deportation on unjust grounds can still sing and play “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”

Here, where a Benevolent Fund, no matter how humble, can be used in its own community for the redistribution of wealth instead of just hand outs.

Right here, where the word Bible and the word Justice can be spoken in the same sentence in God’s church! For some, Christmas and the coming of Christ is not good news at all.

The thought of God of the oppressed.

The idea of God of the Exodus.

The belief in God of the suffering, struggling, and surviving—is too much to take. And yet, if we look at Scripture—that is who God is.

Don’t underestimate heaven as local communities that live out the faith here on this earth. For then you and I can look in the eyes of another human being—and instead of turning away in fear, see God in him, in her, in you, in the Other.

But be forewarned this Christmas. For when Jesus, the son of a working class carpenter and a carpenter himself LOVED, HEALED, LIBERATED AND FORGAVE —-

There were still some whose prejudice was so deep, whose fear was so large that when the miracle came—when the impossible became possible—when God came —they dismissed it saying:

“What good can come from Jesus—isn’t he the local carpenter’s son?”

They insist on missing the gift the cosmic God brings.

They will not receive it. It is too hard to believe.

Too uncomfortable to withstand the suffering from a carpenter’s shop to the cross. Too different to include. Too real to face. Ah, but if Christmas is Christmas and God is God—you and I would believe that the universal, cosmic, global God who could create anything out of a void would come to God’s local carpenter’s shop for all the people—wouldn’t we?