Sermon: “The Waiting Is Over”
A Sermon Delivered by The Rev. John D. Painter at Centenary United Methodist Church Metuchen, New Jersey December 24, 2004 (Christmas Eve)
Text: Luke 2:1-20
Tonight the waiting—the long waiting—is over.
It’s hard to wait for Christmas. Last Sunday morning, as I sat on the steps with the chil-dren holding a brightly wrapped present on my lap, I played straight man and asked them what they were waiting for. “Christmas!” they shouted in unison. Duh! When I asked them what Christmas meant, they all very responsibly answered that it was about Jesus’ birth. Wonderful answer…especially in Church. But I’m realistic enough to believe that there were some other words on the very tips of their tongues which they were doing their best to hold back from say-ing…things like “Santa Claus” or “presents.”
Hey! I was a kid once…as hard as it may be to believe…and so were most of you J…as hard as that may be to believe. As a child I can remember how difficult it was to get to sleep on this night. It was the anticipation, the expectation, the ears-wide-open listening for that “clatter” out on the lawn…and tiny reindeer hooves up on the rooftop. And since we didn’t live in a house with a fireplace till I was nine, worrying how Santa was going to come down our chimney…the one that led directly to the coal furnace.
It’s hard to wait for Christmas. This may be why we’ve been having it for the past three months or more in the malls and stores. “Hallowthankmas” reigns supreme it now seems from right after Labor Day through the opening of the New Year. But it’s even difficult to wait for Christmas in the church, with our shorter four-week Advent interval between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve.
If it’s hard to wait for Christmas, it’s also hard for Christmas to arrive. Maybe part of the problem is overselling the season, some over-expectations about what will happen. We expect peace, joy, goodwill, and the fulfillment of all of our collective dreams. Instead we get a baby in a smelly cow barn in a crowded, dusty little town named Bethlehem.
You know what it’s like. We wait with excitement for nine months for a baby to be born. But then, the baby appears, and the waiting is over. There’s a huge divide between expectancy and delivery, between a baby shower and a baby diaper. Do you hear that difference between “We’re going to have a baby” and “We just had a baby”? You have moved from the hope to the reality, from yearning to fulfillment. Some of you know very well how radical that change can be from anticipation of birth to birth and responsibility.
Well, tonight the long wait is almost over, and we’re going to meet the Truth…Truth that has a face and a name. There he lies in a feed trough, wrapped in swaddling cloths. “The little lord Jesus, no crying he makes…” But as much as we love these Christmas images, we need to remember on this night of nights that this infant grew to be an adult.
Bishop William Willimon writes about it this way: “We get Christmas cards with the baby Jesus on them and words like joy and peace. Imagine a Christmas card from the adult Je-sus!
“‘Go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, then follow me. Merry Christmas.’ [Or] ‘Whoever takes up the sword dies by the sword. Happy Holidays.’”
Sort of puts a little different perspective on it, doesn’t it? Think about it this way, this month is the 100th anniversary of the “birth” of Peter Pan. You know Peter, the boy who remains forever trapped in childhood. “I won’t grow up!” this centenarian still stubbornly declares. How dangerous it would be if we were to prefer Jesus to be the boy who never grew up…to be the baby who stayed in a manger.
“We love the Christ Child in the stable, the shepherds kneeling, the angel chorus singing, the magi worshiping, camels trekking across a midnight desert under the light of a brilliant nova leading the way, the holy family [gathered around the manger]. We love this. We wish it could be this way all year.” It is difficult for us to be reminded that this child will grow up…that this child will leave the crib for the cross.
“Sixty-six years before the birth of Christ, in an aristocratic community of Rome, a very important child was born. As soon as he arrived, a messenger raced into the Roman Senate and announced, ‘The next ruler of the world is born.’ His name was Octavius, and he was destined to become the adopted son of Julius Caesar. He grew up in the palace. He was educated by the fin-est teachers of literature, philosophy and government. And at the age of 33 he was the uncontested ruler of the entire Roman Empire. He just had to give the word and armies would march and ships would sail. He just had to give the word and the world would move for him. The Senate gave him the name Emperor Augustus, meaning the exalted one, who reigned over the golden age of the empire.
“When he was about 66 years old, ‘In those days a degree went out from Emperor Au-gustus that all the world should be registered.’ It was during this census that another child was born in a very unimportant village, in a very unimportant part of the empire. No Roman messen-gers ran to announce his birth to the Senate. Instead, it was God’s own angelic messenger who announced the birth of Jesus Christ to the least of the inhabitants of the empire, a small band of shepherds watching over their sheep. ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Mes-siah, the Lord’ (Luke 2:10-11).
“This other child began his life in a humble manger, because there was no room for him in the normal places. He was raised not in a palace, but in a common Jewish home. He was not educated in literature and philosophy, but in carpentry. And at age 33, he ascended not to the reign of the Roman Empire, but to a Roman cross. ‘He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him’ (John 1:10-11). No, we never did have much room for Jesus. That is why we killed him. But in that ultimate act of sacrifice for the sins of a dark world, Jesus became the King of a whole new kingdom that has long outlived every empire.”
Considering whom Jesus was when he grew up, when he preached and acted in his adult ministry, it may take a fair amount of courage and some risk to sing on this night:
O Holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us we pray.
Cast out our sin and enter in. Be born in us today.
But Messiah is come. God’s will for the world has been revealed…made fully manifest for us to see. Let us go to Bethlehem and take a look for ourselves. Can we risk it? The waiting is over…
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PRAYER
Dearest God, Holy Creator, Joy of the world! Hope of tomorrow! Light of heaven! Lover of humanity! You are the Creator of every thing; through your word the world and everything in it exists. You are the maker of red berried holly trees, of fragrant Christmas trees, of tinsel spar-kling with many colors of light, of carols to be sung, of gifts given and received, of children born, of blessed rest everlasting, of everything which is beautiful, which is lovely, which is good. Be with us, Holy Lord of heaven and earth, live among us, let us feel your presence, as we cele-brate the birth of your child, your gift, your love, who came to live, grow, and teach among us. May our hearts always be young in your love. Amen.
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