Scripture:
John 9:39
John
18:37
Luke 2:8-18
Soundcloud: Listen Here (note: manuscript and live recorded sermon are often very different)
Let's Ruin Christmas
I came to know this as a true story. Some years ago, a
little boy named Marvin wanted to be in his church's nativity play. The
boy's parents were concerned because he was mentally challenged. But the
volunteers in charge of the production took him on happily and made him an
innkeeper. His only line was simple and he rehearsed it for months,
"There is no room in the inn!"
Christmas Eve arrived and parents, especially Marvin's. He
was excited to do his part. The lights lowered, the play started.
When Joseph and a young Mary expecting a small pillow arrived at his door
and knocked, Marvin answered. The couple asked desperately, do you have a
place for us to stay? My wife is soon to deliver! Marvin crossed
his arms, puffed out his chest, scowled his mightiest, and delivered with a
boom, "THERE IS NO ROOM IN THE INN!"
Audible sighs were heard, smiles beamed from his parents.
Joseph and Mary turned dejected and trudged slowly away... Marvin looked
on. His arms uncrossed, his scowl dissolved. His lip quivered.
And Marvin belted out with great urgency... "Oh come on in baby
Jesus! We'll find room for you!"
Marvin ruined the play. Marvin. Ruined.
Christmas. Or did he really? I don't think anyone there that
night really thought so. I don't think any of us do. Because isn't
the point of the whole blessed story to make room for Jesus? Isn't Marvin
infinitely more wise than any of us? Wasn't he moved as we all should be
moved? Didn't he GET it like we all strive to every year?
We read the Christmas story. We tell it. God slips in.
God knocks. And we have to invite God in. Even at Easter, God
must be welcomed, invited.
Invited.
So Let's ruin Christmas!!!
Let's take a page from Marvin's book and turn everything on its
head. Let's RUIN Christmas like he did.
Instead of looking for the War on Christmas, let's look for ways
to undermine it all, to ruin Christmas like Marvin did, by really getting it,
by refusing to play along with the script, by bravely inviting God into our
home and making room, whatever it takes!
Instead of trying to shove baby Jesus into stores and advertising
and holiday greetings and onto the airwaves and into our trees and football
games and into the stockings and onto the shelves, let's invite the Christ
child into our hearts and homes.
As a Methodist billboard recently read across a picture of red
Starbucks cups... It's not their job to tell people about Christ. It's
ours. Isn't it?
If you ask your own children to name the things in the living room
that need to be present for it to be Christmas, what would they name first?
What would definitely make the list? The tree? Lights?
Stockings? What about Santa's plate? Cookies? Milk?
Carrot for the reindeer? We had a placemat and plate and cup and
saucer. I still remember the whole setup.
What about a nativity? Could they name all the characters?
Do they know anything from the story about when they arrived or why they
stayed in the animal pen? What about an Advent calendar? Do you
read a Christmas story? Watch one? Do you read the Christmas
story? Will you tonight?
Tonight or tomorrow, will you invite someone to join your family
or will you go to someone who must remain at their care facility or home or
shelter or hospital room? Will you make room in your celebrations to be
like little Marvin and ruin Christmas by welcoming Christ, even when it all
seems so full? Will you find the time to invite the lonely, the broken,
the hungry, those walking in darkness to be in the light of your love this day?
Let's ruin Christmas! Let's do all those things! Let's
pick up the phone and reconnect with a family member or friend or get to know a
neighbor or find a stranger in need.
You see, Jesus, I think, would have loved Marvin's style. I
do. Jesus was always up for ruining things. Not to be a jerk, but
to draw attention to what has been missed. We use symbols to MAKE
meaning. They're important. But as wonderful as those symbols are
and as useful as they can be, they must be done with care or they run the risk
of hiding the meaning they were created to breathe life into.
Jesus saw how his own people had buried the meaning of the Temple
in systems of robbery and extortion that grew out of the loving symbolic acts
of sacrifice. He turned over tables to ruin the system because the
meaning had been lost. I'm not saying you go full blown Grinch tonight
and empty the fridge, rip down the stockings, and shove the Christmas tree up
the chimb-ly. But, rearranging furniture in a not so calm manner was not
outside Christ's repertoire.
Christ ruined royal entrances, riding in on donkeys instead of
horses and chariots. He ruined places of worship. He ruined the
religious hierarchy, the Jewish patriarchy, the Roman polity, and every
prejudice his people and the world had every concocted or carefully crafted.
ANd he ruined Christmas. He came in as a baby, born in a feedbox,
visited first by the smelliest, poorest people in town. And then he and
his refugee family took off for Egypt immediately, fleeing threat of death, so
that the Magi had to come find him in a new land.
Several years ago now, I was alone in Denver for Christmas.
I expected to wake up Christmas morning, sit around with the cat and
maybe go to a gathering in the afternoon that church friends had invited me to
attend with their family, knowing I'd be by myself and unable to travel to see
family.
Instead, a dear friend arrived on my doorstep with baking supplies
to make blueberry muffins from scratch. We baked all morning, went and
acquired a giant box of coffee and cups, and then headed out to the snowy empty
streets of town to the corners where homeless people waited cold and mostly
unnoticed. We brought our baked goods, piping hot coffee, and hugs, and
we listened and laughed and prayed with everyone. We learned the stories
of so many that day and for the first time felt like maybe we had gotten
Christmas more right than we had in years, or ever.
My friend ruined Christmas. My friend shook me up and got me
out on the street. Our friends and family thought we were a little nuts.
I'm pretty sure everyone's reaction was, "didn't you have plans?
Weren't you with your loved ones? Didn't you wanna see your
brothers and sisters?"
We did. My friend is my hero.
My other hero is St. Nicholas. St. Nicholas began his work
when he noticed all the poor children who didn't have gifts to receive on
Christmas, as had become a tradition. He noticed they didn't have food or
firewood either. He loaded a sack and visited those in need. Could
there be a better example of faithfully following the call of Christ to notice
our brothers and sisters, to love them, and to love them with a generosity of
sharing all we have and are, the Good News we know, incarnate.
St.Nicholas, I am sure had family and friends and plans that day.
But he decided to chuck that, or at least, as Marvin would tell us... To
make room for Jesus. I like to think he invited his friends to be
helpers... To not think of them-s-elves, but to fill a few bags, a few socks, a
few hearts...
And can't we do that too? Will you? Will you make time
tonight and tomorrow. Will you make room? Will you teach your
children to make room and why?
Will you pitch in with St. Nick, with Marvin, with Jesus... Let's
ruin Christmas. Amen.
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