Pastor
Rick Warren, the author of the bestseller The
Purpose-Driven Life, has become the go-to guy for a clear message about
Christmas. His book The Purpose of
Christmas sums up this glorious event in three short sentences:
· Christmas
is a time for celebration.
· Christmas
is a time for salvation.
· Christmas
is a time for reconciliation.
He
says “Regardless of your background, religion, problems, or circumstances,
Christmas really is the best news you could get. Beneath all the visible sights
and sounds of Christmas are some simple yet profound truths that can transform
your life for the better here on earth and for forever in eternity.”
But
those words—and those truths—still need to be unpacked on this Christmas
morning. We could say that the gift needs to be unwrapped.
I
wasn’t sure where to start. But then I came across something the Archbishop of
Canterbury said when retired in 2012. Dr. Rowan Williams predicted that his
successor will need to preach “with a Bible in one hand and a newspaper in the
other.”
Well,
that’s what I’m doing this Christmas. In my left hand I have the Lectionary
with these glorious readings about the birth of Christ.
And
in my right hand, I have the Saturday edition of The Globe and Mail.
Somehow
or other several stories and photos in the Globe—a very secular paper—made me
think about the purpose and message of Christmas, in different ways.
First, there was a picture of five gowned youngsters
from the choir of Salisbury Cathedral in England. The caption noted that Christmas has been
celebrated in that cathedral for more than 750 years—a welcome reminder of the
beauty of our Christmas traditions, of the joy of listening to choirs singing,
and indeed the joy of just being in church.
Isn’t
it great to be here this morning? Too
many of us connect church with obligation, when the right word is celebration. That’s
one of the joys of Christmas Mass—almost no one comes out of obligation: we’re
drawn here by a celebration.
There
was also a story about immigrants to Canada and the strength they find by going
to church. Newcomers from China are becoming Christians at the same time as
Christians are giving up on church. Some
of the most growing congregations—Protestant and Catholic—are Asian.
The
article quotes a twenty-one year old woman attending Simon Fraser who has found
“strength, commitment, and faith within the rapidly-growing student club at the
university.” Many of us have heard
stories from Catholic Christian Outreach about campus converts, more than a few
of them immigrants.
And
there are also many such stories right here in our parish. Strength, commitment
and faith are nurtured in this community as we gather each week to worship.
Elsewhere
in the paper I read the story of an Edmonton man who leapt on to subway tracks
in the face of an oncoming train to save a man who’d fallen off the platform. The article described him as “a humble hero—just
what the world needs right about now.”
Certainly
we need all the heroes we can get, but as I read the story I kept thinking that
a Christian society wouldn’t be quite so astonished by self-sacrifice. A secular newspaper dared not mention the
example of the one “who gave Himself for us,” as St. Paul described Christ in
our second reading, but that’s who I thought of.
The
central fact of Christmas is the gift of our salvation. The headline in the paper read “A humble hero
breaks through the compassion deficit.”
That’s a mouthful but it almost describes what Jesus did. He gave Himself up for us in the supreme act
of compassion that we call salvation or redemption. In our first reading, the prophet
Isaiah describes that as shining a light into the darkest corners of human
life.
A
couple of pages later the paper tells the story of the tragic deaths of a
Toronto couple who were known for their philanthropy. But some details of their lives seemed almost
as tragic as their deaths; fabulously wealthy people who foreclose on the
family homes of relatives can’t have been very happy. The deceased man is quoted as saying “Everything
comes down to ego.”
One
of the messages of Christmas is that ego is far from everything; indeed it is
close to nothing and never brings joy. None of us is the center of attention
this morning—we’re focused on a helpless child, come to save the world and to
reconcile us to Himself, and one another.
Celebration
and salvation lead to reconciliation. The Opinion section of the paper contains
a full-page discussion of forgiveness by two people. One of them writes about the man who murdered
her father when she was eleven years old. The other is a man who spent four
months in a notorious prison in Iran. It’s
a dramatic discussion, but there’s no clue as to whether printing it now was
connected to this season.
Yet
reconciliation and forgiveness are a big part of Christmas. Isaiah gives us a wonderful string of titles
for the Child who has been born for us, for the son given to us: Wonderful
Counselor, Mighty God, and Everlasting Father.
But none touches our hearts half as much as the name “Prince of Peace.”
A
need to be reconciled—to forgive and be forgiven—robs us of peace. But the
Prince of Peace invites his followers to love even enemies, and to let go of
the hurts we experience, especially in our families.
Maybe
I shouldn’t say Christ invites us to forgive—in fact, he commands it. Isaiah
refers twice to the authority given to this Child and he points out the
connection between obeying that authority and endless peace. The more we respect God’s authority, the more
we will have peace. The more he reigns
the more peaceful will his kingdom be.
An
article written for the Globe by a prominent lawyer is headed “The rule of law
still matters.” The author looks at some
recent criminal trials and concludes that Canadians must become more alert to
the foundations and importance of our criminal justice system.
That’s
true enough. But what matters more is
that Canadians become aware of the foundations and importance of the justice system
that God has established for our lasting good. Natural and divine laws are intended
to increase, not diminish, our joy. God’s authority is a gentle yoke that frees
us from the burden rather than imposing one.
God
appeared among us to bring salvation and reconciliation. But both of these require that we respect his
laws—otherwise what are we doing calling him wonderful, mighty, and
everlasting?
The
grace of salvation, St. Paul says, offers us training in these laws. Training in self-control and in virtuous living. Salvation not only redeems our sin but purifies
us for good works. One of the gifts God
gives us is the guidance we need to live the good life.
The
Gospel today is a more familiar Scripture passage, with its tender images of Mary and
Joseph and their newborn in the manger.
But the Gospel too has a very unsentimental aspect. There was no room for them at the inn, just
as there is no room for so many refugees and migrants today. The family our parish has sponsored to come
to Canada remains stranded in Kenya, twelve of them spending another Christmas
in a two-bedroom house, sharing one meal a day.
Even
the angel’s words are not sentimental.
The angel begins “Do not be afraid.” Why? Because the shepherds are
terrified. How many of us are afraid of
one thing or another?
Fear
is not conquered by sentiment or by the pretty pictures on a Christmas card. Fear is conquered by faith—by believing that
a great light has shone into the darkness of our world and of our hearts. The child who has been born for us is called
Jesus, because that means ‘saviour.’ Only
he saves us from our fears and failings.
Rick
Warren’s three-word summary is worth memorizing: Christmas is a time for
celebration. A time for salvation. And a time for reconciliation. Celebration.
Salvation. Reconciliation.
But
we can’t be satisfied with just one of the three. Not even with two. Most of you walked into church this morning
in a spirit of celebration. But we should be sure to walk out carrying the free
gift of salvation. Because that’s what
Christ came to earth to bring.
Nor
should anyone leave burdened by unforgiveness. God forgives us, even when
others won’t. And he gives us the grace to forgive others, even when we think
we can’t.
Amidst
the news of the world’s crises, the Globe and Mail did manage to remind me of
some happy memories before I folded up the paper. There was a full page story
about Stuart McLean, the writer and storyteller who died in February. It talked
about his delightful Christmas stories, which I’ve enjoyed so much over many
years on the CBC.
In
Stuart’s fictional world, the article said, “People are prone to make mistakes,
but destined to be forgiven.
“Community,
friendship and love always have the upper hand.”
But
in the real world that’s not always so. How blessed we are that God always has
the upper hand—that the birth of the Christ Child announces that we are not
only called to forgive but destined to be forgiven.
That’s
the message of salvation and reconciliation that gives the deepest meaning to
our Christmas celebration—and the message of Jesus, who shines light and hope even
in the deepest darkness.
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