A Sermon preached at Good Shepherd Episcopal Church

LaBelle, Florida on  Christmas Eve

By Elizabeth L. Nelson

Dec. 24, 2021 Priest-in-charge

Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20

Tonight’s reading from Isaiah talks about a people who walked in darkness, and how this people have seen a great light; It takes us back to the very beginning in Genesis when the writer says: Darkness covered the whole earth. But at the right time, God said, “Let there be light.”

Sounds like a stretch to connect that with Christmas, and that’s indeed what I thought until I received a very different Christmas card some years ago. On the front of a Christmas card were the words: Darkness covered the earth; they were printed in large block letters and under the words was a very dark likeness of the earth from space—a little blue, a little purple, a little gray—but very dark, surrounded by planets. Underneath that—in block print—were the words—And God said. And underneath that, written in script were the words Let there be Light . . . I looked at that cover for a long time and thought, ‘Those words come from the creation account in Genesis. What in the world does that have to do with Christmas?’…A black, dark Christmas card with nothing about Jesus on the cover. Then I opened the card—and I gasped. The black background dotted with planets was again there. But this time, right in the middle of the card, sitting in a pile of hay, was a wooden feeding trough. And there was something besides hay in the wooden feeding trough. There was a crude piece of cloth, obviously covering something, and protruding out over the top of the clothe was a little, tiny hand. Surrounding the tiny hand, the clothe, and the feeding trough, were rays of bright, bright light. And above the whole picture were the words, written in script … And there was! Darkness covered the earth. And God said: Let there be Light. . . and there was!

I was overcome. I was shaken at the powerful image. And I was mortified that something so simple yet so profound had not occurred to me—Genesis and Luke, side by side; creation and Jesus, the beginning and the fulfillment, darkness and light. I closed the card and looked at the cover again. I had missed one very important part of the cover. Besides the darkness and the image of the earth and the planets and the words, at the bottom of the card was a picture of hay and above the hay, just a touch of light—just a glimmer, a beginning. If I’d seen that at first I would have known what was coming. But I didn’t see the hay, and I didn’t see the Light. The awesomeness of the sky and the planets and the whole of creation resting upon something as fragile as hay.

You know the story . . . but do you really know the story? You could leave here tonight saying, “Yes, I know what this is all about.” But the Lord wants you to leave here tonight saying, “My God, I never imagined it that way!”

Tonight is about light. Tonight is about hope. Tonight is about breaking through, conquering, letting go of what keeps us from the holy. Tonight is about new beginnings, new birth, in whatever way you allow that new beginning…that new life to happen.

The gospel of Luke tells the story. And it needs no interpretation. The shepherds are tending their sheep in the dark of night. And suddenly the darkness is shattered—destroyed—by light, snow white angels, and what’s called the shekinah glory of God, the same brilliant glory that is described when Moses spoke to God on Mt. Sinai and his face was so bright that the people couldn’t look at him—the same brilliance that surrounded Jesus, Moses, and Elijah on the mount of transfiguration. The darkness is broken. The price is paid. And the message is spoken: Today in the city of David, is born to you a Savior who is

Christ the Lord. And you will find Him wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger—an animal’s feeding trough.

The King of the earth and the sea and the sky came as one of us to make us whole and holy, even when we don’t feel that way. There’s a story of a little lamb who was different from the others in the flock. He was not as white; he had some flaws, some dark spots. And he also had a crippled leg. He was unable to run and play with the other lambs. So he sat alone a lot, didn’t run with the flock, and he spent much of his time close to the stable where he could usually find food. This one night the shepherd began to gather his flock of sheep together. They were going to go up over the hill to look for more grazing land. They had been here long enough and the grass was pretty well eaten. When the crippled lamb attempted to join the flock, the shepherd said, “No, little one, you must stay here. You won’t be able to keep up. There’s plenty of food for you here. Stay, and we’ll be back in a few days.”

The little lamb hobbled back to the stable, sad because he was different, and went to sleep. During the night he was startled to hear voices. And he even thought he heard the cry of a baby. And a young woman’s voice said, “It’s cold. I have no blanket to cover our baby.” And the little lamb hobbled over and lay down beside the child, shielding the baby from the cold. And the young woman said, “Thank you, little lamb.”

A children’s story, yes, but with an adult message. Did you hear it? It all comes together in the stable in the feeding trough. Darkness is overcome by light. Sin is overtaken by forgiveness. God making things right again, the way they were at the beginning of time. God turning life upside down.

Every one of us is crippled in some way. We stretch the truth. We out and out lie. We hurt each other physically, mentally, emotionally. We let our pride dictate how we will act or respond to one another. We spend more time with anything and everything, instead of spending it in prayer and Scripture. We say nasty things without thinking. We get caught up in the material world. We think we can run the world from our iphones. We try to control our loved one’s lives because we are so insecure about ourselves. We wear invisible masks so no one really knows who we are.

We are all crippled in some way; not one of us is without a limp—somehow, someway. And darkness covers the earth . . .

And God said, “Let there be Light”… and there was! And that changed everything.

We no longer are destined to die in our crippled condition. That little child, that tiny hand that was there the moment the darkness was broken—has come to heal, to help, to guide, to pick us up when we fall, to stand beside us when we have choices to make, to remind us that he loves us more than we could possibly imagine, no matter what the world wants us to think.

Today is a day for you to meet Jesus… again… for the first time. He stands at the door of your heart and says: “Let there be light.” And there is!

Tonight’s reading from Isaiah talks about a people who walked in darkness, and how this people have seen a great light;

It takes us back to the very beginning… in Genesis when the writer says:

Darkness covered the whole earth. But at the right time,

God said, “Let there be light.”

Sounds like a stretch to connect that with Christmas, and that’s indeed what I thought … until I received a very different Christmas card some years ago.

On the front of a Christmas card were the words: Darkness covered the earth;

they were printed in large block letters and under the words was a very… dark… likeness of the earth… from space—a little blue, a little purple, a little gray— but very dark, surrounded by planets.

Underneath that—in block print—were the words—And God said.

And underneath that, written in script were the words …Let there be Light . . .

I looked at that cover for a long time and thought, ‘Those words come from the creation account in Genesis. What in the world does that have to do with Christmas?’…A black, dark Christmas card with nothing about Jesus on the cover.

Then I opened the card—and I gasped.

The black background dotted with planets was again there. But this time, right in the middle of the card, sitting in a pile of hay, was a wooden feeding trough.

And there was something besides hay in the wooden feeding trough.

There was a crude piece of cloth, obviously covering something, and protruding out over the top of the clothe was ..a little, …tiny… hand. Surrounding the tiny hand, the clothe, and the feeding trough, were rays of bright, bright light. And above the whole picture were the words, written in script … And there was! Darkness covered the earth. And God said:

Let there be Light. . . and there was!

I was overcome. I was shaken at the powerful image. And I was mortified that something so simple …yet so profound… had not occurred to me— Genesis and Luke, side by side; creation and Jesus, the beginning and the fulfillment, …darkness and light. I closed the card and looked at the cover again. …and…I had missed one very important part of the cover. Besides the darkness and the image of the earth and the planets and the words, …at the bottom of the card was a picture of hay and above the hay, just a touch of light— just a glimmer, a beginning. If I’d seen that at first, I would have known what was coming. But I didn’t see the hay, …and I didn’t see the Light. The awesomeness of the sky and the planets and the whole of creation resting upon something as fragile as hay.

You know the story . . . but do you really know the story? You could leave here tonight saying, “Yes, I know what this is all about.” But the Lord wants you to leave here tonight saying, “My God, I never imagined it that way!”

Tonight is about light. Tonight is about hope. Tonight is about breaking through, conquering, letting go of what keeps us from the holy. Tonight is about new beginnings, new birth, in whatever way you allow that new beginning… that new life to happen.

The gospel of Luke tells the story. And it needs no interpretation. The shepherds are tending their sheep in the dark of night. And suddenly the darkness is shattered—destroyed—by light, snow white angels, and what’s called the shekinah glory of God, the same brilliant glory that is described when Moses spoke to God on Mt. Sinai… and his face was so bright that the people couldn’t look at him—the same brilliance that surrounded Jesus, Moses, and Elijah on the mount of transfiguration. The darkness is broken.

The price is paid. And the message is spoken: Today in the city of David, is born to you a Savior who is Christ the Lord. And you will find Him wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger— an animal’s feeding trough.

The King of the earth… and the sea… and the sky came as one of us to make us whole and holy, even when we don’t feel that way.

There’s a story of a little lamb who was different from the others in the flock.

He was not as white; he had some flaws, some dark spots.

And he also had a crippled leg. He was unable to run and play with the other lambs. So he sat alone a lot, didn’t run with the flock, and he spent much of his time close to the stable where he could usually find food.

This one night the shepherd began to gather his flock of sheep together.

They were going to go up over the hill to look for more grazing land.

They had been here long enough and the grass was pretty well eaten.

When the crippled lamb attempted to join the flock, the shepherd said, “No, little one, you must stay here. You won’t be able to keep up.

There’s plenty of food for you here. Stay, and we’ll be back in a few days.”

The little lamb hobbled back to the stable, sad because he was different, and went to sleep. During the night he was startled to hear voices.

And he even thought he heard the cry of a baby. And a young woman’s voice said, “It’s cold. I have no blanket to cover our baby.”

And the little lamb hobbled over and lay down beside the child, shielding the baby from the cold. And the young woman said, “Thank you, little lamb.”

A children’s story, yes, but with an adult message. Did you hear it?

It all comes together in the stable in the feeding trough. Darkness is overcome by light. Sin is overtaken by forgiveness. God making things right again, the way they were at the beginning of time. God turning life upside down.

Every one of us is crippled in some way. We stretch the truth. We out and out lie.

We hurt each other physically, mentally, emotionally.

We let our pride dictate how we will act or respond to one another.

We spend more time with anything and everything, instead of spending it in prayer and Scripture.

We say nasty things without thinking. We get caught up in the material world.

We think we can run the world from our iphones. We try to control our loved one’s lives because we are so insecure about ourselves.

We wear invisible masks so no one really knows who we are.

We are all crippled in some way; not one of us is without a limp—somehow, someway. …And darkness covers the earth . . .

And God said, “Let there be Light”… and there was!

And that changed everything.

We no longer are destined to die in our crippled condition. That little child, that tiny hand that was there the moment the darkness was broken—has come to heal, to help, to guide, to pick us up when we fall, to stand beside us when we have choices to make, to remind us that he loves us more than we could possibly imagine, no matter what the world wants us to think….

Today is a day for you to meet Jesus… again… for the first time.

He stands at the door of your heart and says: “Let there be light.”

And there is!