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Only the Beginning
December 19, 1999
4th Sunday of Advent with musical drama “Navidad Nuestra”
Pastor Dan Baumgartner
It’s
a great thing to see the gifts of so many come together,
and lead us in worship this morning.
Our
musical drama this morning is most appropriate, I think.
This is the last Sunday before Christmas. What we’ve
just seen and heard reminds us of the story … the
simple, clear, moving story of Christ coming into our midst.
We need to hear the straight and simple story … not
because it’s a pageant, or tradition, but because
it is our story … at least, it’s the beginning
of our story. We also need to hear the straight story because
our culture has done so many things to complicate it, to
mess it up. I’m reminded of this constantly at this
time of year. I want to issue you a challenge this morning,
if you’re up to it. Take a drive, and go see the
Christmas lights in some neighborhood. Our family did this
last night, so I assure you this is not fiction. If you
do this, you’ll eventually find a house that fits
this description:
The
house will be lit up with blinking, cascading small white
lights, as well as the larger red, green, blue and orange
ones outlining the roofline. And there, in the front yard,
will be a well-lighted, 3-foot tall nativity scene. It’s
complete with a stable and hay spread around the yard,
Mary and Joseph, a baby Jesus in a crude cradle … perhaps
even a cow and donkey. It’s beautiful. But then as
you continue to survey the yard, the confusion sets in.
For
what to my wandering eye should appear? In the corner of
the yard, headed for the stable of Bethlehem is a chunky
guy in red driving six reindeer, including the front one
whose nose is a huge red light bulb. As your mind grapples
with the significance of these two images, you realize
in horror that the sled is on a direct path to run over
the top of a huge white snowman, hooked up with a loudspeaker
that is blaring out Bing Crosby singing “Frosty the
Snowman.”
You
look again, and see that if the sled swerves to avoid Frosty,
they’ll be in danger of causing a multiple person
accident, because there are three ancient kings also making
their way across the lawn towards the Bethlehem stable.
One of them is on his knees, and you know there’s
no way he’ll be able to get up in time to avoid Rudolph
and the sled. To add to the confusion, in the opposite
corner of the yard, a bunch of elves are hammering away
in a workshop, apparently oblivious to anything else going
on in the vicinity.
Now
distracted, your eye looks upward, directly over the stable.
There used to be a simple star there, but the ingenious
homeowner took it down and installed a flashing red and
green “Season’s Greetings” sign. Try
to explain all of that to your children! No, we need to
hear it again, and again, as we have in the musical this
morning:
“The
angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you
good news of great joy that will be for all the people.
Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you;
he is Christ the Lord.”
There’s
a second reason I enjoyed this Navidad Nuestra.
Perhaps you were surprised that the story did not end with
the shepherds at the stable, or at least the three kings
coming to pay homage. That’s the usual place to end
a nativity scene. It’s neat and clean and polished,
and we leave with a nice picture of this bouncing baby
boy Jesus, wrapped in a gleaming white blanket, and carefully
installed into a loving family, with the stars glowing
overhead.
But
not in this drama, and not in the Bible. Instead, it ends
with the flight of Mary, Joseph and Jesus to Egypt. Perhaps
that caught us a little by surprise. We didn’t expect
to see a Christmas play end with the holy family scurrying
out of town, looking in fear over their shoulders to see
if the soldiers were coming. We rarely stop to consider
that when God’s Son came into the world … he
came into OUR world … a world that is confusing
and sometimes dangerous. From practically the moment of
His birth, Jesus was forced to flee as a refugee … to
a strange and pagan land … to avoid the threat of
violence in his homeland. And though he later returned
to this region, it was always this way for Jesus. He lived
his whole life in an environment of struggle, pain and
fear. We read about those things in the newspapers today,
we see it on CNN…but here? In the Christmas story?
When God chose to come into the world, to be God-with-us…it
was no carefree decision. But God’s choice was to
come anyway.
Christ’s
birth was the beginning … only the beginning. Advent
is the beginning of the church’s year…not
the end. Saturday we will celebrate not the end of things,
but the beginning. Christmas is not the culmination of
God’s presence with us, but the beginning. And if
the drama leaves us feeling a little unfinished … it’s
a good reminder. Because Jesus’ being among us is
unfinished. It continues. The presence of Christ continues
to write our stories. The God we follow is a living, active
God…not a God of the history books.
At
Advent we celebrate God’s presence in our lives.
Not 2000 years ago, but the daily presence of today. And
this morning we celebrate by taking communion together.
In this mysterious and powerful way, we get to experience
the God who is with us.
The
holiday season for some is one of the toughest times of
the year. There are among us those who carry tremendous
tensions from our family interactions of the holidays.
The invitation for you from Jesus is “Come. Come
lay your tension, your burden down.”
Others
of us are dealing with extreme crises of health, or are
caring for people who are failing. The invitation for you
from Jesus is “Come. Come receive strength.” Some
of us are at weak points in marriages or relationships,
and this time of year finds us broken and confused. The
invitation for you from Jesus is “Come, and be healed.”
Some
are missing loved ones who have never been gone at Christmas
before…I’m one of those…I found myself
at Starbucks one morning this week, writing some reflections
about my grandfather who died in May, and tears began to
run down my face. For us, the invitation of Jesus says, “Come,
and receive my comfort.” I don’t know what
your need may be this morning. In need of forgiveness,
of a friend, of wisdom … the invitation of Jesus
is for you …. “Come.”
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