THE REIGN OF GUILT ENDS WITH THE BIRTH OF CHRIST
The Rev. Mark Sherwindt, Pastor
Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church
Christmas Eve at Zion: December 24, 2003
Services as 6:30 p.m., 8:30 p.m., and 10:30 p.m.
The story of God's love for us in Jesus Christ continues with yet another celebration of Christ's birth here in the third year of this third millennium of the Christian Era. It's quite incredible, if you think about it, the influence of that One Solitary Life, whose birth went pretty much unnoticed in that little town of Bethlehem, and whose proverbial fifteen minutes of fame in the spotlight of Galilee ended badly with his death on a cross at Calvary. And yet, here we are with virtually everyone on earth having heard his name, and just about every place in our world touched by the craziness we call Christmas. Of course, all will readily admit that it is sometimes difficult to know how the craziness of Christmas is connected to the birth of Christ - in a world of unchecked consumerism, where much of the focus is not on saving souls but on saving the economy, through the constant ca-ching of cash registers in malls across America, accounting for the purchase of gifts, gifts, and more gifts, a phenomenon which is nothing short of astounding for the endless variation on the creation of things no one needs, and even fewer really want! I wonder if Jesus would recognize the holiday that the celebration of his birth has spawned? I wonder if we would recognize Jesus were he to show up in our midst on this great and glorious day set aside to celebrate his birth? A really cute email has been circulating on the internet lately capturing the thoughts Mary might be pondering in her heart still some two thousand years after that first holy night in Bethlehem. It's about a dream where Mary sees what we do with Christmas nowadays: preparations that last forever, decorations inside and out, Christmas trees with lights and gifts galore. "They wrapped them in beautiful paper and tied them with lovely bows and stacked them so neatly under the tree. Yes, a tree, Joseph, right in their house! Oh, it was beautiful. Everyone was laughing. They were all excited about the gifts. They gave them to one another, but not to our Son. I don't think they even knew him. I had the strangest feeling that if our Son had gone to this celebration, there still might have been no place for him at their home, around the tree, or in their lives." Mary's dream is intended to be a commentary on what we've done with Christmas, which is, in some respects, uncomfortably true. Now, don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. My life loses itself in its celebration. I marvel at the impact that Christ's life has had on us and on the world around us. Sure, much of what we do around this time of year doesn't lead to those things that we're really seeking: lasting happiness, true joy, peace of mind, peace with others, peace on earth. But at least we are reminded of the fact that these are the things God wants for us; and these are the things God gives us with the gift of His Son and the presence of His Spirit. I was reading in the New York Times last Sunday that "in a Harris poll taken earlier this year, 82% of Americans said they believed in heaven, and of these 63% said they were likely to go there" - no, not with their SUVs on a family holiday, but in the next life. Michael Novak, a Roman Catholic theologian who works at a think-tank in Washington, DC, confirmed that for many Christians (and non-Christians, too) the idea of facing God in an afterlife lacks the old fearfulness it once aroused. "We take the roses and ignore the thorns." The unpleasantries of hell have been edited out of today's versions of what comes next. And that's okay with me - or, I should say, as a Lutheran that's okay with me. Sure, the Bible makes it clear that there are two possible outcomes when it comes to the afterlife; and Ann Graham Lotz, the daughter of evangelist Billy Graham, has done her math correctly in telling us that "Jesus mentioned hell more often than he did heaven." But I've got to confess that the Good News has more to do with what's true about God than with what motivates us; and the Good News we celebrate this evening proclaims that God's grace has triumphed over His wrath. Fear of hell's fire must take a back seat to God's love for us in Christ. That is exactly what Luther meant in the Christmas Book I've read from throughout this season, when he asked, "Are you frightened?" Are you focused on the wrath of judgment? Are you consumed with your fear of condemnation? Then look upon the Baby Jesus playing in the lap of his young mother. "What can be sweeter than the Babe, what more lovely that the mother? Look at this Child, knowing nothing; yet all that is belongs to him, that you should not fear God but take comfort in the Babe lying in the lap of the fairest and sweetest maid. See how great is God's goodness, which seeks above all else that you should not fear him [but come to him]. Trust him. Trust him. This is the Child in whom is our salvation." Now - in Christ, in this gurgling Babe, now - is overcome all judgment, our fear of hell, the wrath of God, if you come to him and believe that he is come not to judge you, not to condemn you, not to frighten you, but to save you, to love you, to give himself for you. [The Martin Luther Christmas Book, p. 40] That's the gospel truth. That's the Good News of Jesus Christ. God's love for us is far more important than our fear of hell. Sure, fear may be a better motivator; and a little bit of fire and brimstone may get us more focused on holy living. But that says more about us than about God; and the Gospel is far more interested in proclaiming the truth about God than in saying things that may be true about us. When it comes to salvation, trusting God's grace is far more important than fearing God's wrath. For love accomplishes much more than fear; and what is more, this love reveals the truth about God, the truth about God's heart, the truth that comes to us in Christ. Despite the guilt-inducing tones of Mary's dream, the reign of guilt ends with the birth of Christ. Give it up, as a tool and a burden. God has. It's not about guilt, but about freedom, the freedom to lay hold of the best gift of all, the gift of God's love for us in Christ, the gift of God's life in us through Christ. Despite our unease with popular culture's leaving hell out of modern renditions of what comes next, the fact of the matter is that our fear of God's wrath, which inspires out trembling at the thought of hell, must give way to the triumph of God's grace. For that's the truth of the Gospel; and that is what's at stake with our celebration of Christmas. It's great to know with Dr. James Allan Francis, who in 1926 wrote that "nineteen centuries have come and gone … and all the armies that have ever marched, all the navies that have ever sailed, all the parliaments that have ever sat, all the kings that have ever reigned have not affected the life of mankind on earth as powerfully as that One Solitary Life." But isn't it better to know that "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life." Now that's Good News, which is why it's called the Gospel: Good News of great joy for all people. … through Christ our Lord
Amen