SERMON, CHRISTMAS EVE, 2006, LUKE 2:1-20

Why do we come to Christmas Eve services? Why are churches all over the world full of worshipers this night? And why are those same churches relatively empty on, say, the Feast of the Transfiguration? What is it about this service that draws people in? I think there are several possible answers to the question.

First, it's tradition. We attend because we've always attended. When I was a child, my family always went to the midnight mass. I remember having to take a nap around 7 p.m. and being up at 9:30 p.m. or so. I remember always being one of the lucky ones chosen to work Christmas Eve as an acolyte. And I remember getting home around 1 a.m. Maybe you have your own memories of Christmas Eve services that you felt were important enough to continue the tradition as you grew up.

It's that tradition that seems to anchor us. It ties us together with our past, those glory days of yester-year when Christmas may have seemed a little more magical. And it ties us together with worshipers all over the world. It doesn't matter that we are Baptist, Roman Catholic, Episcopalians, Lutherans, or breakaway splinter groups who align themselves with some African bishop; tonight, all over the world, whatever our traditions, we are gathered to celebrate the incarnation of Jesus.

Christmas is not just the celebration of the Nativity. We don't gather together and sing familar hymns of joy (because, you know, the Vicar won't allow Christmas music before the first day of Christmas) to wish Jesus a happy birthday. It's much deeper and more profound than that.

Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus, sure, but it is more importantly a celebration of God's incarnation. When we recite the Nicene Creed in a few minutes, we will say, "he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man." This is an amazing thing we believe; that God came down from heaven to take our nature upon himself in the form of a little boy named Jesus. God became incarnate then, and God continues to be incarnate among the men, women and children who make up the body of Christ in the form of the Church today.

Or maybe you come because you fell in love with the liturgy. I was watching the History Channel show "Christmas Unwrapped," where they covered everything about Christmas from its pagan origins up to today. It was interesting, but what got my attention was the segment on Christmas as a religious holiday. According to the show, the English Puritans tried to wipe it out because of it's less-than-ideal secular celebrations. It was more of a bawdy street party than anything else. And the American Puritans tried to do the same thing; the Christmas holiday was anything but religious (something to think about when the "moral majority" tries to bring Christmas back to its true meaning). Eventually, though, the Protestants began attending Roman Catholic and Episcopal churches because they were they only ones open on Christmas Eve and they were looking for some kind of blessed Christmas liturgical experience.

I kind of feel like that here at St. Paul's. This is the only church in Virginia City, and some people attend this service because they enjoy the liturgy. The music, the story, the candle light version of "Silent Night," it all adds up to a blessed experience. And that's okay . . . If the only reason you came tonight was because you wanted to experience a Christmas liturgy, I don't mind at all; I am very thankful that you all have decided to spend your evening with us.

Maybe it was those lights shining in the darkness that brought you in. Christmas Eve is that light that shines in the darkness for many. A silent night. A holy night. A night were the light warms us spiritually. But it isn't the night or the lights that are the true light. The true light that shines in the darkness is the baby Jesus himself.

Do you ever notice how a baby's smile can light up a room. That's Jesus, but it's more than a room he's lighting up; it's the whole world. The gospel for tomorrow is from the first chapter of John. Part of that reading includes these sentences: "What has come into being was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."

You see, everything lives in the darkness. Stars live in the darkness of space. We live in the darkness of this world. In the beginning there was no light, all was dark; until the light came into being. Stars may live in that darkness, we may live in that darkness, Jesus may have lived in that darkness, but never forget that the light of the stars and the light of Jesus that shines through us onto the world cannot be overcome by darkness. The light shines this Christmas Eve, it shines in the world, and it cannot be overcome.

Or maybe the reason you attend Christmas Eve service isn't tradition or the liturgy at all. Maybe the reason you come is to feed a spiritual hunger. On some level you realize that it's important to be in church on Christmas and Easter. Maybe you are searching for something but can't quite put your finger on it. Maybe you think twice a year is good enough; after all, you don't want to spoil a good thing, right?

We need to be fed -- physically, emotionally and spiritually. If we aren't fed, we die, it's that simple. And one of the best places to be fed spiritually is right here at church. I talk to people all the time who tell me, "I can be just as close to God up in the mountains while hunting as I can be in a church, maybe more so."

I won't argue that point, because I like being up there alone also, just me and God. But what you miss is the community and diversity. Community which is a bunch of people supporting you, challenging you, nourishing you as you struggle with faith, life and everything. Diversity which is the differences that make up the community. It's not a good idea physically to eat the same thing over and over and over. The diversity of the church community is what can give balance to your life, and it can nourish you more fully.

Every Sunday in this church we gather together to worship and feed on Jesus. Every Sunday we get our spiritual food in the form of his body and his blood right there at the altar. We are nourished on a weekly basis. But it didn't start with the institution of the Last Supper before Jesus was crucified.

It started when Jesus was born. When he was born, his mother laid him in a manger because there was no room at the inn. A manger is a feeding trough. It's where the animals went to be nourished. So here's baby Jesus, Savior of the world, laying in a feeding trough. Here is baby Jesus being offered as spiritual food for the world. One Christmas hymn invites us to "come and worship, worship Christ the newborn King!" I would invite you to come to the manger and be spiritually fed and nourished by our newborn Savior.

Finally, in some way we are all touched by this night; whether it is through tradition or liturgy or some spiritual hunger. We will sing hymns, light candles, feed on holy mysteries of spiritual food, and glorify God. And then what? Will we simply go home and continue living our lives as we always have, or can there be something more?

The shepherds, upon hearing the news of the birth of Jesus, left with haste to see him at Bethlehem. Like the disciples some 30 years later, they left everything behind them to follow the Good News. And like those same disciples, they proclaimed that Good News to the world.

Luke's gospel doesn't start with kings and power and might, but with peasants and humility and servanthood. On this night of tradition and light and hunger, I urge you to proclaim all you have heard about this child. I challenge you to be an active member of the incarnate Body of Christ and to shine the light of love into the darkness. And I invite you to feed on the spiritual food that is the body and blood of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

May this Christmas be the beginning of something new and wonderful in your life; may it be like the arrival of a new child.

Amen.