Christmas Eve Candlelight Service
Readings and Reflections
December 24, 2001
The First Universalist Church of Rochester
The Reverend George Tyger
Matthew
2:1-9
Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of
Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east
to Jerusalem,
Saying, Where is he that is born King of
the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.
When Herod the King had heard these things,
he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.
And when he had gathered all the chief
priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ
should be born.
And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of
Judaea; for thus it is written by the prophet,
And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda,
art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a
Governor, that shall rule my people Israel.
Then Herod, when he had privately called
the wise men, enquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.
And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go
and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me
word again, that I may come and worship him also.
When they had heard the king, they
departed; and lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till
it came and stood over where the young child was.
Some Things
Must Be
Around the nation this time of year,
thousands of Unitarian Universalists gather together for their Christmas
celebrations and try to figure out how we can approach this time of year. Caught in a strange place somewhere between
Christianity and something else, we wonder how this holiday can have any
meaning to us. We talk of what we call
the deeper origins of Christmas - the return of light to the world, pagan
celebrations of the Solstice, the mythic journeys of religious heroes come to
save the world.
I find it hard to talk of messiahs, saviors and Kings. The words are just hard to get out of my
mouth sometimes. But I know, too, that even with all the folklore, the
co-opting of other traditions into the Christmas celebration, the Christmas
trees and the Solstice dances, there are some things you cannot take away and
still have this be Christmas.
For this story - the Christmas story
- is that of a humble, altogether human child, born beneath that star of hope,
with a message of universal salvation, of love, of peace, of the web of life,
holding the stars and the little children, ourselves and eternity together in a
sacred mystery larger than our understanding.
It leads me always to ask, as does our responsive reading, “Why Not A Star?”
What is This
Symbol of a Star?
What is this symbol of a star, a
point of light surrounded by blackness?
The artist cannot paint the radiance of a star. The poet fails to
describe its magnificence in words. The
astronomer reduces it to a burning bubble of gasses so many light years away;
long dead, its light must slowly fade away.
Is a star the gas that burns? the words that describe? the tinctures on
a flat canvas?
What is this symbol of a star, the
light that beckons out of the darkness, the call in the wilderness, the hope
that burns brightly above even the most humble of births?
Stars - we place them atop our Christmas trees; we wish upon them
in our dreams. We call on them to
remind us of things past and of things to come. How is that some child, born on some Christmas Day long ago,
could have a star all his own?
Laid in down a straw bed, neither a King nor a Sage, without
wealth or power, this child bid the heavens to open up and a light to shine
forth so that today we sing songs of Christmas Stars that bid both shepherds
and Kings to look up with wonder and with awe.
What is this symbol of a star, point of light surrounded by
blackness? What is this symbol of
Christmas, a moment long past which has yet to fade away?
Just
a point of light in the darkness, so much is held “Within the Shining of a
Star.”
Luke 2:1-7
And it came to pass in those days, that
there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be
taxed.
(And this taxing was first made when
Cyrenius was governor of Syria.)
And all went to be taxed, every one into
his own city.
And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out
of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because
he was of the house and lineage of David:)
To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife,
being great with child.
And so it was, that, while they were there,
the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.
And she brought forth her firstborn son,
and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there
was no room for them in the inn.
A Humble
Birth
Humility surrounds the Christmas
story. We are reminded by the very
place of this birth that the star that shines down does not shine upon Kings or
Queens. No, it is for these to follow
the star, for it shines upon the small, the meek, the humble and the human.
There is an inherent message of
Universalism in this story. The star
shines upon the most humble and calls to even the most wise. The gift of that star so long ago was not
the gift of an anointed King but of a humble babe.
What might it have been like on that night of legend? It was not the angelic picture displayed in
nativity scenes. Cold wind blew through
the open stable. The smell of animals
rose up through the air. The cries of
labor rang out in the night. A
frightened woman and an uncertain new father were alone in the dark. There were no hospitals, no delivery rooms,
no nurses or midwives to assure them that everything would be all right. But a star did shine that night; a point of
light shone in the darkness and the fear.
Perhaps it was not a star in the sky, but a light that arose in the
creation of a family. No longer did two
stand alone in fear of each other, wondering each, in this new relationship,
who the other was. They stood now,
brought together by the love they shared in this child.
Such a star might shine for us here in this night. As we look into the eyes of our children who
are with us, as we see them in our minds and hearts though they be far away, as
we recall in our hearts those who have been closest to us, a star beckons,
calling us to hear that same message of joy, of love, indeed even of salvation,
heard so long ago, on that “First Nowell.”
Eyes Create
The Stars
When the carolers are gone, the
Christmas trees find their ways to some backyard grave, and those stars that
once so proudly topped those trees are wrapped in tissue and packed away in the
dark, how is it that the work of this season might last? What if Christmas could only last?
What is it that bids the light of a
star, long burned out, to continue to stream its way to this insignificant ball
of rock we call our home? How is it
that the work of Christmas continues even when the first Christmas happened so
long ago?
The light of that star, long gone,
streams to us from some distant galaxy because, once energy has been freed from
its chains, it must find eyes to absorb its radiance and make it light, make it
a star.
Those streaming particles of light
are nothing if they never reach eyes.
But even then, it is the heart, so moved by the beauty of the eyes’
witness, that turns those random particles into something more, from bursts of
electromagnetic radiation at certain bandwidths visible to the human eye, into
a reality greater than sum of those individual parts, into something far more
amazing, awesome, even miraculous. The
heart turns the light into a star.
That Christmas star of so long ago
lives even today. As she finds a home
in our souls, she becomes the miracle of Christmas; she becomes the messiah,
the living Christ, when she moves us, when she becomes something greater than the
sum of the parts, which make the Christmas season. If this miracle can happen, she becomes the Christmas Star of our
souls, and we join hands to bring “Joy to the World.”
Joy and
Faith
Joy and faith go together, for without faith in something - in that
star, in the reality of Christmas - joy may seem impossible. Christmas asks us to have faith in
something. It is not faith in a virgin
birth or in the divinity of this human being called Jesus.
The faith is in something greater than any story can be, faith in
the possibilities that we can be more, we can do better, we can love more
completely, we can be as fully human as this humble child born in a
manger. The story of Christmas is not
like many other religious myths; it is not filled with power or glory. It speaks softly. It does not ask us for mighty needs, but simple acts of
kindness.
It does not ask for the biggest gift beneath the tree, nor the
most extravagant Christmas dinner; it asks only for us to attend to the
children, to the small, to those in need, to those left out of the inn. Such is the story of Christmas, the hope of
Christmas, that such humble births can bid the heavens to open up and star to
shine forth. Such is the miracle of
Christmas that even the very smallest of us can join in the chorus of angels
and give and sing “O Come All Ye
Faithful.”
Luke 2:8-15
And there were in the same country
shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon
them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore
afraid.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not:
for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all
people.
For unto you is born this day in the city
of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall
find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a
multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
peace, good will toward men.
And it came to pass, as the angels were
gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now
go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the
Lord hath made known unto us.
Why the
Shepherds?
Who are the shepherds among us?
Not the rulers, the leaders, the presidents and senators, but the
shepherds, the common work-a-day folks.
Such is this message of Christmas - that it comes to all of us. Not to the greatest first but to the
smallest, to the humble shepherds. It is right that we should celebrate it here
in this Unitarian Universalist Church, for the message is truly a Universal
one.
Christmas comes to us, not as a cold set of conventions we must
accept or reject, but comes to us as the light of a star. It has journeyed vast distances; it has
passed through eons of change; it has bounced off of innumerable obstacles on
its way to us.
It has been bent by the gravitational forces of the universe, its
colors have been shifted, and its light has flickered as it passed through the
atmosphere of human existence. But it
has arrived. It is up to us to make of
it what we will. We can dissect it into
its pieces. We can say it is no more
than a spectrum of radiation with little meaning. We can say it is the remnants of an explosion now long past, not
worth our attention. We can codify it
and encapsulate it with creeds and dogma.
We can try to seize the light of a star in the flame of a candle and be
left with a pathetic imitation that blows out in the slightest breeze.
What are we to do with this
Christmas, this light that has shown over ages and has now reached our
eyes? We are to make it a star! As we take that pinpoint of light in the sky
in our hearts, create stars, planets, and galaxies, distant worlds, and wishes
come true. So let us take this
Christmas Star and make of it a beacon - a star which shines in our hearts and
calls to us do the work of Christmas all the year, to share in peace on earth
and good will to all. The star shines
for all, shepherd and magi, for you and for me. Let your imagination take hold of the light of Christmas and turn
it into the Christmas Star, just as did shepherds in the field when “It came Upon a Midnight Clear.”
A Prayer for
Silent Holy Nights
We have joined together in this
place to seek the star of Christmas in our hearts. On this Holy night, as long ago shepherds tending their flocks
might have heard the call to peace on earth and goodwill to all, so may we,
too, hear it in this place, and may we sing it together, in our homes, in our
offices, in our fields, and in our workplaces.
May the Christmas star burning in our hearts make all the world
peaceful and joyous; may she make all our homes kind and loving; our living,
untroubled and sacred; may she make all our nights “Silent Nights, Holy
Nights.”
Benediction
May the star of Christmas live in your hearts and be with you and
bless you and keep you on this day and every day forward. Go now in peace. Amen.