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Sermon, by Pastor Joel
December 29, 2024
1 Samuel 2:18-20, 26
Psalm 148
Colossians 3:12-17
Luke 2:41-52
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“As God’s chosen ones,” our second lesson suggests, “clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” Doesn’t that sound warm and welcoming? The best kind of clothing any of us will ever wear. The most fashion-forward in angry days. The most secure in an uncertain world. And what do these clothes cost? Nothing, nothing at all. Just our attention, our will, and our presence.
For the last few weeks, we have been talking about the power of presence. I shared stories from Rabbi Brous’s book, The Amen Effect. We heard about Andrew, the mysterious man who rescued Allie, when she was struck by a car while out walking. And how Rabbi Brous, herself pregnant, went to the bedside of a woman recently forced for health reasons to terminate her own pregnancy, and brought great comfort to the woman, despite her fears that her own pregnancy would be hard for the patient. Finally, on Christmas Eve, we heard about Hanne who took in a young man named Ryan who was living on the street, even though her friends told us she wasn’t safe.
And so we see how our presence can be offered in different ways – to a stranger in need, to a friend even when it’s awkward for us, and in a way that outweighs the risks against the opinion of society. And we also saw the difference this presence made. Andrew, by acting, likely saved a young woman’s life. Rabbi Brous provided comfort and in return received a generous blessing. Ryan landed on his feet and returned to honour Hanne at her funeral.
Our presence is a gift we choose to give. It is cloth, as our second lesson reminds us, that if we accept it, we may also share. Compassion, kindness, humility, patience, being meek - that is slow to anger - each one of these factors into our stories of presence; they are necessary ingredients that move us to offer ourselves in service to another.
And, of course, on Christmas Eve we arrived at the manger and witnessed the most divine presence – a gift from God in the form of the baby Jesus. This is the presence that inspired the love of young parents – which we hear about in our gospel this morning. The protection of the shepherds, who I imagine would have a thing or two to say about Jesus’s running off like that. And the guidance of the Magi, who might have said to Mary and Joseph: “Relax, he is safe and see what he is learning.” Those are all valid forms of presence: love, security, and wisdom. And in the middle, the future teacher and healer, who will someday make the truest gift of his presence on behalf of everyone.
Now Christmas is days past, and perhaps, having opened the gifts and devoured the turkey, you feel its presence slipping away. Perhaps the warm glow of family harmony is becoming discordant again with old conflicts. Perhaps after all the work, it was over in a moment, and you are wondering where it went.
Of course, the presence of Christmas is not attached to one day; it is a permanent and inseparable gift in our faith lives. The scene at the manger is imprinted upon us, and we can go there anytime. Perhaps we need to be reminded of the manger over and over again. But its presence fades only if we choose to let it.
But are we forgetting something, or someone? If we are to take the cloth of the gospel and share it with others, how do we first acquire it? Who first wraps it around our shoulders and fastens it so it remains whatever life brings to us? This is the presence that begins it all. Without first learning that we are freely offered kindness and compassion and patience – we cannot practice it ourselves. And this presence does not exist on only one day, or one night; it exists in the air we breathe, the sun we watch rise, the snow that falls, and in the bright eyes of a grandchild and the clouding eyes of grandparents. It is the presence of something larger than and beyond ourselves, past what we can imagine, outside our understanding. It is the presence of God.
Do not fret as the Christmas glow fades and the tree starts to wilt and the toy breaks. The presence of God endures. That presence – that warmth of the cloth of forgiveness and kindness and patience – is placed upon the shepherds, Mary and Joseph, and the innkeeper. On baby Jesus, who is entrusted into our presence. It is placed over Andrew and Jackie and Hanne. And it is placed upon each one of us. This is the presence that should warm our hearts and lift our spirits, for it reminds us that we are worthy and loved and accepted – not for winning or striving – but for ourselves. And people who are clothed in this way – who are loved in this way – may offer that same cloak, that same love to others. It is the only way they truly can.
So in this now after Christmas, as the days pass, look for the divine and watch for the presence of God. Wear the cloak that God intended for all of us. And when you’re healthy and strong, extend a hand to share its warmth. For God has presence for all of us.
Amen.
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