Eve of the Nativity                                  The Rev'd David C. Cobb

John 1                                                   Procession to the Creche &

                                                            The Christ Mass

                                                             December 24, 2008

                                                             

There is no clearer division between youth and maturity, or at least adulthood, than to hear on the one hand: I can't wait for Christmas—as days stall and refuse to move forward, as the long hours of the afternoon drag by—and then—the rest of us who can not believe that its not still mid November— who ask, how did we ever get here so quickly?  

Time—holds us back from the desired day or speeds by in a blur hastening towards an undesired destination.  Young teenagers want their drivers licenses;  then there is the yearning for the adventure of college—always we reach towards the next thing—and then some where the balance changes and we want to stop the forward movement.

 Christmas particularly plays into this discomfort with time- it completes the old year and moves towards the new—it is a moment when changes in family and unfolding life stories are obvious.  Memories and nostalgia, along with hopes and fears meet in this night's dark streets.  In Charles Williams' novel  “The Greater Trumps”, he catches this frustration with time's passage describing a character, keenly aware of time at this season- who wanted no changes in the festivities surrounding Christmas—because if it stayed the same, “ it postponed unwelcome change, and enabled him to enter the New Year with the pretence that it was merely the Old Year beginning over again. ”   

 This night's joy brings us to stand by and watch a young family, a woman and man, holding an infant in an unlikely place.  Pulled out of their home by a powerful empire's need for yet more control, they find mercy when a stranger gives them shelter within a crowded city.  The inevitable and yet inexplicable moment arrives and an infant's birth completes the nine months wait. Mary and Joseph might have had a moment to simply hold the child and look at him with delight, but swiftly,  time begins to rush forward.  Strangers arrive—the unwashed shepherds, and not many days hence, the fear-inspiring foreigners.  Jesus wasn't theirs long before his presence welcomes in the future.  It was not the old year beginning again—that night begins a new year, a new world. 

 Out of the timelessness that is God's own life- God finds a way into our time bound earth.  From the glories of Gods' presence where day and night do not jostle each other and the earth's circle of the sun determines nothing—out of eternity, God finds a path into our hours and days. 

 God's first step into the world of time and the measured passage of moments and day came—as John reminds us—in the beginning.  When God speaks—addressing the cosmos as it is called into existence- that Word speaks to be heard and to draw a response.  “Let there be light”—creates time—allowing for light to shine; and from that first word- every word and movement of God calls for  a response—creating the rhythm and the pattern—God said, and it was, and God saw that it was good. 

 That is the secret of time, it is not just that we are growing older, finding our way from the children's table to the grown-up's to the our own apartment and all that follows.  WE  chart and follow that passage of time, noting the changes at the table or around the tree—how they mark the differences that this year make.  But time has a deeper meaning than this. God speaks and we lives are the response- our delight and obedience, our trust and honest questions—our defiance or avoidance.  Time unfolds, as God speaks and we respond—that call and answer is the heart beat- the rhythm that underlies the movement of years and days.  That call and response is the movement of the stars and the point of our years and days. 

 The infant in Mary's arms all those years ago, the New Born Word we receive this night as if for the first time— God speaks and waits for our response—and waits without impatience.   We fret and strain forward—or look reluctantly over our shoulder—we feel the hours close in as if 24 hours—seven days were not enough.  God is willing to work with us who grow and mature, who require time to listen and to respond – and in a divine mercy is even willing for us to clarify and re-shape our answer when it is wrong headed and confused.  There is time to begin—and to begin again with God.  God gives us time, because in the exchange of hearing and responding—in knowing today what I could not yesterday – we can know and respond to the One who speaks in the beginning and whose welcome will be our End.   There is no way you or I can know all of God in this moment- but God gives us this moment as part of life time—to hear the Word that speaks.  We can not adequately respond—in love towards God or the one closest to us—in one moment- but God creates the pattern of nights and days—lets us grow and mature—and there is the opportunity to love—better tomorrow than today. 

 The ancient of Days is a newborn, the source of all things reaches for a mother's care, the Grace of God poured out is found far from temple or palace and in a form altogether more lovely than a book or totem.   An infant—silently responding to Mary and Joseph, silently welcoming shepherds and not in the least cowered by the Magi' magnificence.  A child who learns and grows, who questions and explores;  a young man who gently but firmly takes his leave of home and continues to welcome the unlikely and to stand un-shaken by the worlds' power.  Even in the long hours of a Friday afternoon—The eternal Word speaks in the rhythms of our life—and is willing to wait for our response in real time as well. 

 You might well hear a word that demands a swift response.  There is no time for us to waste when that Word sets us to work.  Peace on earth is God's gift—but it is also our calling and it is pressing, now as always.  Mis-use of what God has given – can only last so long and the Word we hear may well be a call to change, to repent.   If God's word to you asks a response—do not delay.  Do not waste the hours that remain tonight and when you wake on the morning- take up with urgency the work that God lays on your heart this night.  Redeem the time, its hours too swiftly fly—the hymn says. 

And the Word may speak patience.  Advent teaches us to wait—not just for four Sundays, but to adopt a stance of alert and attentive hopefulness.  The Word that you hear in this beginning may require you to listen – to listen for days or years.  . God speaks in an infant that will grow and mature at the usual pace- a life time- and it will ask no less of you.  If God had intended a message that would take no time- there would be no time.

 

But there is time.  This New Year is not the old one starting over again; this midnight will give way to the dawn and to noon and then again to evening.  Through each changing moment, the Word sounds in your heart and in your mind—and it is God who speaks and God who gives you the means to hear, to question and to understand. 

In the Beginning was the Word—and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.  This is the beginning- from this moment opens out the hours of Christmas Day and of all Days.  All creation hangs on that word.  Our hope and purpose hangs on that silent word Spoken into the dark night in Bethlehem.   Time starts and moves on—the second beat is yours—God's beginning is answered with your response.  To sing with joy, to give with generosity, to find new strength in place of old guilt and grief, to live—even as the hours and days pass so swiftly.  Listen, and then live what you hear – and time will find its meaning, your life will find its purpose, and God's Word will be answered in the peaceful, glorious carol your life and this creation was meant to be.  The old year, beginning again?  No, God is doing something in us that is new, even though it gathers up all that has been.  The old year?  No, God's word is always the beginning.