Sermons

Sermon preached by the Reverend Cindy Stravers
St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut
The Nativity of Our Lord – December 25, 2009

Here we are – Christmas morning, 2009 – the last Christmas of the decade – a decade that was full of things we never expected. We have experienced things that have shaken our sense of stability, we’ve moved further into the reality of a much smaller world through globalization – while at the same time the world of knowledge and the amount of information we have at our fingertips has increased at an absolutely astounding rate.

Our expectations about what we can count on – our personal expectations, our national expectations, indeed, our expectations about this fragile planet have had to be adjusted.

Expectations – they are funny things. Sometimes it seems that the smartest thing to do would to put them all aside. Yet, as human beings with minds that are capable of making meaning and hearts that seem to need meaning, we carry on – making assumptions and investing, often heavily, in our expectations.

I’ve been thinking about three families and their relationship to expectations this week and I’d like to share a little of their stories.

The first of these families consists of three children: the first-born, a daughter, followed by a set of fraternal twins – another daughter and a son. I remember a conversation I had one New Year’s Eve with the father of this family. Though his children were still in Middle School, he was able to describe to me his expectations of his children in no uncertain terms.

He had concluded, even before they were born that they should all pursue careers in medicine. Not only that, shortly after each of their births, he had decided what specific field of medicine they should pursue– the eldest, surgery; the female twin, obstetrics; and the male twin, anesthesiology. His expectations for each of his children were bolstered by the toys they were given, the extracurricular activities they were allowed to participate in and, eventually, the courses they were required to take in the schools he had determined they would attend.

Expectations.

The second family I’ve been thinking about consisted of four children – the eldest, a son, was also encouraged to pursue a medical career while the three daughters were expected to do well in school, but more importantly, the real expectation was that they would find the right husbands, be good wives, and raise good kids. To make matters worse, when the family was out and happened to bump into business associates, the son was the only child introduced by name by this father – the girls were referred to as “my harem.”

While the expectations of these two families may seem extreme – I think they illustrate how easy it is for us to assume we have a fair amount of control over our lives – and the lives of others.

Expectations.

We tend to base our decisions on and build our lives around expectations – they are powerful – wielding uncanny control over both the one who holds them and those for whom they are held. Sometimes our expectations are met – many times they explode, come crashing down, bringing devastation and empty holes where there was once a chance for something real – something authentic.

The would-be surgeon drops out of school, elopes and becomes a wedding planner; the would-be obstetrician joins the Air Force and heads to Iraq for the third time as a special intelligence officer; the would-be anesthesiologist becomes a surfing instructor in California. Professional careers are destroyed as addiction raises its ugly head and perfect marriages dissolve into the devastating pain of divorce.

Expectations.

What does this have to do with Christmas? one might reasonably ask. Well, there’s a third family we need to think about today –

The would-be surgeon drops out of school, elopes and becomes a wedding planner; the would-be obstetrician joins the Air Force and heads to Iraq for the third time as a special intelligence officer; the would-be anesthesiologist becomes a surfing instructor in California. Professional careers are destroyed as addiction raises its ugly head and perfect marriages dissolve into the devastating pain of divorce.

Expectations.

What does this have to do with Christmas? one might reasonably ask. Well, there’s a third family we need to think about today –

Last week I was doing some Christmas shopping for my grandchildren at a local bookstore. I stopped at the shelf laden with children’s Bibles and Bible storybooks. Nestled between the “Precious Moments” Bibles and a plethora of Nativity picture books was a copy of the “Wizard of Oz.” To be fair, I must assume that some mis-shelving had occurred, but it got me thinking about the expectations that surround the child we celebrate today.

What are our expectations of the Christ child? And what exactly has informed them? Have they been shaped and perhaps stunted by the Hallmark tradition of chubby babies surrounded by even chubbier angles and adoring adults – all with eyes that are way too big and smiles that are just a little too sweet?

Or, have we perhaps chosen to focus on Jesus the wizard of the first century – making assumptions and basing our expectations about his activity based on our own desires? Communicating only our own wishes in bulletin-point prayers?

Expectations.

What does this have to do with Christmas? one might reasonably ask. Well, there’s a third family we need to think about today –

Last week I was doing some Christmas shopping for my grandchildren at a local bookstore. I stopped at the shelf laden with children’s Bibles and Bible storybooks. Nestled between the “Precious Moments” Bibles and a plethora of Nativity picture books was a copy of the “Wizard of Oz.” To be fair, I must assume that some mis-shelving had occurred, but it got me thinking about the expectations that surround the child we celebrate today.

What are our expectations of the Christ child? And what exactly has informed them? Have they been shaped and perhaps stunted by the Hallmark tradition of chubby babies surrounded by even chubbier angles and adoring adults – all with eyes that are way too big and smiles that are just a little too sweet?

Or, have we perhaps chosen to focus on Jesus the wizard of the first century – making assumptions and basing our expectations about his activity based on our own desires? Communicating only our own wishes in bulletin-point prayers?

Here’s the deal – I’m not about to say that we shouldn’t have expectations – that seems to be a normal and good part of being human beings – they keep us safe, they keep us motivated but they can also keep us stuck.

That’s why I think it’s important for us to pay attention to all of our expectations – especially those around the child whose birth we celebrate today. We need to roll them over in our heads and hearts, maybe poke our fingers into them a bit – check out what they’re made of and think carefully about where they may have come from. In other words, it seems important to make sure that the time and energy we put into expectations and assumptions regarding Jesus are accompanied by an equal amount of reflection and a willingness, if necessary to let go of some of them.

I think that must be what Mary had to do – over and over again – from the moment she learned she was pregnant to the day she watched her beloved son die.

Our Gospel lesson today describes Mary’s response as “pondering.” In all the wild surprises of that first Christmas – in a culture full of expectations regarding the Messiah – Mary simply wonders – what could this all mean?

Today, I would like to invite you to take the wrapping off of Jesus – the old newspaper of nostalgia, the shimmering foil of our culture’s assumptions, the ribbons and bows of any of our own expectations that have kept the Christ Child in a box – and let yourself wonder – take time to ponder, to treasure the Good News of Jesus’ birth.

This is the birth of God, after all. God has come to us. It is a cosmic event and it is also a very personal event. You see, it is from the loving womb of the Creator that this life has been delivered – a life meant to save, a life meant to redeem, a life that gives birth to bring new life – new life for all of Creation – and new life for each one of here this morning.

Let’s do our best to wonder – to ponder the mystery of God-with-us. Let’s not be satisfied to keep Jesus in a manger – but rather, open our hearts and minds to welcome that which we least expect – open to that which is, by it’s very nature, beyond even our wildest imaginations.

God has come to us.

Let us pray. Gracious and most loving God, we give you our humble thanks for the great gift of Jesus today. Fill us with your Spirit – bust apart anything in us that has kept us from knowing the depth of this Good News. May we live ever more fully – more deeply into your love – love that has been demonstrated most clearly in the birth of your son, our Savior, Jesus the Christ. Amen.