2005 Christmas Eve

2005 Christmas Eve
December 24, 2005

Merry Christmas. Although it’s been said, many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you. In our own country, we say it many ways. In the Hispanic farm communities, they say, “Feliz Navidad.” In the Korean immigrant churches, they say, “Sung Tan Chuk Ha.” In Hawaii, they say, “Mele Kalikimaka,” which is impossible to say without moving your hips. In Alaska, the Native Americans say, “Jutdlime pivdluarit ukiortame pivdluaritlo!” (The nights are three months long, so they can afford to stretch it out. By the time they all finish saying it, it’s spring.) Here in East Tennessee, we say, “Merry Christmas, y’all.” Or, in Sevier County, “Merry Christmas, you’ns.” In our own country, and around the world, everybody says it a little differently. The words, and the feelings beneath the words, are as individual as every person who says them. Because Christmas is going to mean unique things to each one of us. All of us have our own Christmas memories. All of us have our own traditions – family traditions and personal habits. Some people love Christmas and can’t stop decorating, can’t stop buying presents, can’t stop holding mistletoe over people’s heads (even though it gets them in trouble at the office party). Some people prefer the quiet of chestnuts roasting on an open fire. And some people have trouble saying the “Merry” part of it all. We say Christmas differently, we celebrate Christmas differently, we feel Christmas differently. Preachers tell us to remember the “true” meaning of Christmas. But the truth is, there are true meanings of Christmas. There are more meanings of Christmas than there are ways to say it. And what Christmas truly means to you might not be precisely the same as what it means to the person on the other side of town, or even the other side of the pew.

“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 Messiah, the Lord.”

Not even the angels had one word for Christmas. Some would have heard, “City of David,” and said, “The King! The restorer!” Some would have said, “David who?” Some would hear, “Messiah,” some would hear, “the Christ.” Our own Bibles can’t even agree on precisely what to call him. Different versions call him very different names, and we each hear these names according to our own experience. To you, “Savior” might mean one thing. To me, it might mean something else. I suppose it depends on what you need to be saved from.

So even though we’re sharing this moment, this worship, I know that when I said, “Merry Christmas,” and you said, “Merry Christmas,” back, you might have been wishing me something very different than I was wishing you. Does that mean that one of us said it wrong? I doubt it. If not even the angels can agree how to say, “Merry Christmas,” how could we expect to say it perfectly right?

I know for some of you this IS Christmas. The hymns, the anthems, the bells, the candlelight. And for some of you this is just another part of a long, parental plot to make you sit still and wait on the one night you physically can’t.

“…they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”

From the very first, Christmas has been amazing, something you both run and tell others about, and something you ponder in your own heart. Christmas is loud and quiet. Christmas is incredible and understandable. All the wishes of Christmas – all the true meanings of Christmas, whatever language they’re said in and however you might hear them – all of Christmas is about God. God who is so much bigger than we can ever comprehend. God who we try to squeeze into our hearts and squeeze out of our words. God who is great King, Savior and Lord. God who is a baby born in a manger. God who is. And God who loves. No matter how we say it. Or even if we don’t. Christmas means God. God in our dark, silent nights. God in our bright Yule mornings. The God who loves simply can’t leave us alone. God will find a voice to speak to us. God will find a language we understand.

Whatever words we use to say it, God’s Word has become flesh. God’s Word lives among us. It IS said many times, many ways. And it’s worth saying until we can’t say it any more. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas to you.