Sermon Delivered at Church of the Good Shepherd
Fort Lee, New Jersey
Sunday, December 24, 2021, at 7:00 p.m.
By the Rev. Stephen C. Galleher
It’s Always About the Light
“O God, you have caused this holy night to shine with the brightness of the true Light: Grant that we, who have known the mystery of that Light on earth, may also enjoy him perfectly in heaven.”
(Collect for Christmas Eve)
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shine.” (Isaiah 9:2)
“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all.” (Titus 2:11)
“And the glory of the Lord shone around them” (Luke 2:9)
[Play song of the blackbird]
Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
It’s always about the light.
The COVID-19 pandemic still rages, in part because of the random and irritating course of nature, in part because of our social reluctance to work in solidarity to end it. We miss proximity to one another. Enough is enough, we complain; yet Coved and Delta and Omicron rage on. Our world climates worsen in terrifyingly unpredictable ways, creating anxiety about our future on this planet. Our political divides are so deep that we back away from civil discussion and hiss and lob curses at one another.
Light indeed? World affairs, human affairs seem so fouled up that we are apt to lapse into pessimism and despair and wonder if the Christmas proclamation is just so much tinsel town and unfulfilled promises.
But the Christmas message—whether proclaimed loudly by a chorus from Handel’s “Messiah” or quietly as the verse from “O Little Town of Bethlehem” has it—continues to sound. Light will prevail. Happiness will spring forth. Love will triumph. It’s always about the light.
Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the of the dark black night. (John Lennon and Paul McCartney)
Advent has been preparing us by asking us to watch and to pay attention to our world and our lives closely and patiently enough to see that there are tons of good in it. Not to despair. To keep looking to see all the people reaching out, smiling, touching one another. So, now, on this most solemn night, we welcome the one who will make all the difference, who will proclaim what we have suspected all along, that life is good, that human beings are good, and grace and love prevail.
So all the jingles and doggerel of the season are worth it. When I see tacky decorations in storefront windows or on my neighbors’ lawns, I rejoice. Better tacky that dreary, better cheer than gloom.
When calm is the night and the stars shine bright,
The sleigh glides smooth and cheerily;
And mirth and jest abound,
While all is still around,
Save the horses trampling sound,
And the horse-bells tinkling merrily.
But when the drifting snow in the traveler’s face shall blow,
And hail is driving drearily,
And the wind is shrill and loud,
Then no sleigh shall stir abroad,
Nor along the beaten road
Shall the horse-bells tinkle merrily.
But to-night the skies are clear, and we have not to fear
That the time should linger wearily;
For good-humor has a charm
Even winter to disarm,
And our cloaks shall wrap us warm,
And the bells shall tinkle merrily.
It’s always and everywhere and completely and forever about the light! Light: not just the magical, mysterious thing that illuminates us all, but the new perspective, the new vistas, the new understanding that light gives when it is turned on. Poof, out of darkness and incomprehension—and then light, insight, clarity, and amazement.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free
This is what Christmas does. It turns on the light. It helps us see, perhaps as we have never seen before. Our old, sometimes dreary world takes on a color and a sparkle unseen by our cynical eyes but staring us square in the face by our open hearts.
I repeat a story first heard at a Christmas Eve service some years ago:
One Christmas Day, a woman, her husband, and their year-old son had driven a long way before they found an open diner by the side of the road. It was quiet and almost empty, and they were waiting gratefully for their food when the little boy began waving from his high chair and calling, “Hi there!” to someone behind them. To the mother’s surprise, it was a wreck of a man, unshaven and unwashed, obviously a homeless drunk. Now he was waving back at her little boy and calling, “Hi there, baby, hi there, big boy . . . I see ya, buster.”
The woman and her husband looked at each other, and the other customers in the diner were throwing disapproving glances their way.
And the old guy went on, even after their food came. “Do you know patty-cake? Attaboy . . . Do you know peekaboo? Hey, look, he knows peekaboo.”
The mother tried turning the high chair around, but the boy shrieked and twisted to face his new buddy. Finally, giving up on their meal, her husband got up to pay the
bill, and the mother took the baby in her arms, praying that she could quickly get past the old drunk, who was seated by the door. But as they approached, her son reached out with both arms—his pick-me-up signal—and propelled himself into the man’s open arms.
But now the mother could see tears in the man’s eyes as her son laid his head on his shoulder. He gently held and rocked the boy, and then he looked straight into her eyes.
“You take care of this baby,” he said firmly. And as he slowly handed him back, “God bless you, ma’am. You’ve given me my Christmas gift.”
She must have mumbled something in return, but as she rushed to the car, tears streaming down her face, she could only think, “My God, my God, forgive me.”
Let us not this season ask God to forgive us for the love we withhold, but to be grateful to God for the love we can give. For there is an awful lot of it to be given.
Let us pray:
I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.