Christmas Eve

One of the best parts of being a pastor is the privilege we have of getting into people's homes and sharing their life with them: their joys, sorrows, frustrations, fears and hopes. Especially at this time of the year, it's wonderful to hear the stories people have to tell - often involving remembrances of Christmases past. My fear is always that I will overstay my welcome - that I will ask for too much.

I'd like to start tonight with a story - one of the first stories I heard, as a young pastor, from one of my parishioners. It's not a Christmas story, but it does get right to the heart of the Christmas message.

I was visiting a woman - a shut-in - in my first congregation, sitting in her living room, and she began sharing how her niece, who lived with her, was trying to teach her daughter, who was only about three at the time, the Lord's Prayer. The little girl, with all the intentionality and earnestness that a young child can muster, slowly repeated the words she thought her mother had said: "Our Father, who art in heaven . . . how did you know my name?"

It is said that children have a wisdom all their own. Sometimes a child's simple prayer can teach the wisest person. Tonight, as we gather for Christmas Eve, I ask you: "Isn't that little girl's prayer the question our hearts raise to God with every prayer, every thought we have of Him? "How do you know my name?" Isn't that the question we also ask tonight, as we gather to celebrate His presence with us?

What is Christmas about anyway? What is so special about it? What is it that holds us, enamored by its power? I know what it is - and you do too. In the daily grind of everyday life there is so little magic, so little mystery. We are usually so focused in on our own little world that we miss seeing the vastness, the enormity of the big picture. And, if by chance we were to pause, to contemplate the miracle, the wonder, the enormity of it all - well, perhaps it is better that we don't look up too often, that we don't attempt to place ourselves in the context, the perspective of the whole created order. Because when we do, we see that our world is no more than a grain of sand upon an endless beach. And we, ourselves, are not even a speck on that grain of sand. It is no wonder, is it, that those who have to face that reality day in and day out, the scientists and the philosophers, laugh at the proposition that the God who created the vast reaches of the universe could have even a passing interest in humankind. We are but a speck on a speck, the atom on the grain of sand. It is no wonder that the Psalmist says: "When I look at thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast established; what is man that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man, that thou dost care for him?" (Psalm 8:3,4)

How presumptuous of us to declare that the creator of the universe could care for such pitiful creatures as us! That one with such glory and power at his disposal would desire to have a relationship with such a ridiculous, paltry creature as humankind? Or that He could be seriously disturbed if one of these creatures did not adore Him? If our whole galaxy were to blow up, it would hardly be missed in the vast domain of the Milky Way, like a handful of sand thrown into the sea. And there are a billion more galaxies out there! doesn't it take a great deal of audacity, of sheer gall to declare that not only does such a God care about the handful of dust, but also every grain? And that, beyond that, that He cares infinitely about the hearts of those who inhabit that grain, that he shares their joys and sorrows, that He bears their burdens upon the same shoulders that uphold the whole of this vast creation, and calls these pitiable creatures His children? In the face of the clear light of reason and reality, isn't that a bit too much to believe? Isn't it absurd? Dear God, how can you possibly know my name?

Yet we have this testimony running throughout the Bible - a heavenly voice talking to Jeremiah, saying, "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you." We hear the words of the Psalmist, "My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book, before one of them came to be." The writer of Hebrews says, "He will never leave you nor forsake you." Paul says that the Spirit of God carries to the throne of grace the very thoughts of our hearts, our unutterable prayers. That He knows us better than we know ourselves! But can we believe it? It flies in the face of reason, of any kind of logic! God knows my name? How can He?

God doesn't answer the question of why He loves us as He does, why He wants a relationship with us, why He wants us, of all His wonderful creation, to be called His children. Perhaps it has something to do with the irrational nature of love. We don't know. It is all locked up in the mystery of that wondrous eternal heart. The Father does not explain it all to us, He doesn't try to influence us with reasoning or logic. The only answer He gave to us was in the form of a baby, born in the filth of a stable in a rough wooden manger, in the midst of the stink and smell of a room full of sweaty animals. A small baby, born into a world that didn't know his name - that had no room for him.

God concentrated the enormity of His splendor, His magnificence, his tremendous power and eternal love, and poured it into this one tiny infant, born into a hopeless situation, born into the most miserable of circumstances, born into a mean little town in a petty little world that cared more for its own pleasures and intrigues than for the needs of a crying infant, born to a teenage mother. The world was ready to sacrifice this child in an instant, without a second thought, in favor of its own interests and comfort. Yet into this little lamb, God poured all that He is and sent it into this slaughterhouse of a world, to show His great love for us - to show us the way back to our Father's heart, to our true home, and to establish His rule in our hearts!

"Dear Father - Almighty God! Out there in the vast expanses of Your heavens! Transcending all the aeons of time. Larger than both space and eternity - how did you know my name?"

He knows us because He sent Himself to us a a Christmas gift, as our little child, our own little brother, one of the family that cares so much for us - so much so that one day he will give up his life to pay the penalty for our not loving enough! Praise God for this child! He loves us so! Praise God for a Father whose love is so broad and so deep! Praise God for this wonderful gift! It is His Christmas present to you tonight! Merry Christmas!