CHRISTMAS-B, December 25, 2005

If you and I didn’t know any better, we could probably get away with believing that the Christmas story is a fairy tale. It is a very simple and a very beautiful story, one that tugs at the heartstrings of even the greatest Scrooge among us. It is almost too good to be true. But it is true.

And yet because the Christmas story is so familiar to us, because we can recite the story from memory, it is so easy for us to miss so much of what that story is really saying to us. The Christmas story begins, as all good stories begin, whether those stories are real or simply fairy tales, with the words, “Once upon a time.”

Once upon a time, for it only happened once: that time upon which it happened was over 2000 years ago, when Caesar Augustus was Emperor of the whole known world, when Quirinius was Governor of Syria. Upon that time a man named Joseph and his wife, Mary, along with the rest of the residents of Caesar Augustus’s empire headed to their hometowns to register for the world’s first census. It was a busy and hectic time and Mary was pregnant. And upon that time her first child was due anytime. That was the time, once, long ago.

And once, up on a manger, Mary’s child was born. He was no ordinary baby, mind you, but the baby the whole world had been awaiting since Day One. For since that fateful day when mankind said “no” to others and “yes” to self, we’ve needed someone special to re-right the mess mankind made of the world. So He came, but not with the fanfare one might expect for someone so special. There were no trumpet blasts or clashing cymbals, not even a little drummer boy. Okay, there was a song from some angelic host, but that was it. The only real noise that could be heard, once upon that time, upon that baby, was the moo of a cow and the kicking of a tired donkey. I suspect we might remember this whenever we begin to feel a little self-important. It just might keep us humble.

And once, upon that time, up on a hillside, stood and slept and watched an insignificant group of shepherds. You knew when a shepherd came into your presence. You could smell him coming from a long way off. It came with the job. People did not appreciate shepherds. Oh, they liked the wool that came from the sheep. It kept them warm on cold Judean nights. Roast lamb wasn’t bad either. But by and large, it was best if shepherds just kept to their place up on the hillside. Funny, isn’t it? The first people to be allowed to see the Savior of the world were some smelly shepherds. Imagine that!

And once upon a time, up on a throne, sat a very insecure king. He was insecure because he knew he was doing a lousy job. He was cheating his own people and had sold out to the hated Romans. But did he have the good life: lavish parties, beautiful women, servants galore. Who could ask for anything more? Yet old Herod always felt insecure. Those who know they are guilty of wrong doing always feel that way. But Herod, as soon as heard about the baby born in the barn, suddenly felt supremely threatened. Imagine that. A king feeling threatened by a baby. He must have been some special baby. He was. He was!

And once, upon that time, when the shepherds were up on that hillside wondering what to make of that angelic message, when insecure Herod was up on his throne, up, on camels, came wise men from the east. They were not wise because they had high IQ's and lots of common sense. They had that. No, they were wise because they knew that in knowing what they knew, something was missing. They knew that the world as they knew it just did not make sense. They knew that sometime, somehow, somewhere, someone had to come to make sense out of all this nonsense: nonsense like wars, jealously, corrupt leaders, the mistreatment of the poor and the outcasts – the shepherds of society.

And once upon a time, these wise men somehow knew that this baby born in that smelly barn, lying up on that manger, in that insignificant town of Bethlehem was the one who was going to straighten things out. So they came to see him. Wise as they were, they did not know what kind of gift to bring to this special child. The gifts they brought were wonderful. But if that baby could have spoken, he would have told them that what he wanted most of all was not their presents but their hearts. Imagine that: someone who wants only the gift of our love.

And once upon a Christmas Eve in 2005, you and I come to remember and celebrate and give thanks and sing songs and rejoice. But why are we doing this? Because we always do it on Christmas? Because it just wouldn’t be Christmas if we didn’t? Yes, it probably would not be Christmas for you and for me if we were not here this evening doing what we are doing.

Yet, if the truth were told, tonight might be the very first time since the Pre-Christmas Season began well before Thanksgiving that we have given any thought to the baby born in that barn in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago. And the truth is if we spent as much time reflecting on and living out the real meaning of Christmas as we spend in doing things Christmassy, we would change the world.

Well, it’s Christmas. In fact, it is almost Christmas past. Christmas present goes so fast. But Christmas never goes away. The baby who was born once, upon that time long ago, whose first visitors lived up on a hillside or came riding up on camels, whose first real enemy sat up on a throne not far from where he was born – that baby still lives. He never died, as that other fairytale-like story we believe in, Easter, reminds us. Oh, he died, but he rose to live again forever.

Christmas, like Easter, is not a fairytale. It is very real. But it is only as real as we make it, as we live it in our lives. For as long as there is an Adam or Eve living in us blaming others for our mistakes and refusing to admit we need God’s help and the help of one another to overcome our sinfulness; as long as we continue to treat others as shepherds, as outcasts, because of their race or skin color or whatever; as long as Herod lives in us allowing us to make expediency of any kind an excuse for the way we behave; as long as we think we can buy our way into God’s good graces through gifts of money or even good works and fail to understand that all God wants of us is us – as long as that is true, Christmas will remain only a fairytale that happened once upon a time.

But if we come to understand that Christmas took place once upon a time, if we come to understand that the baby who was born in a barn and slept in a manger calls us to repent of our sins and accept his forgiveness; if we come to understand that he demands we be one with one another and not at odds with others; if we come to understand that he calls us to serve others and not be served; if we come to understand that all he asks of us is to give from the abundance of what we have been blessed – if we come to understand that upon our time, we will discover not only what happened once upon a time on that first Christmas but we will also come to understand what Christmas is all about because we will be living its meaning every day.

May we…and Merry Christmas.