This is the night. The night we have been waiting for. For four weeks we’ve waited and watched and hoped, as the lights on our advent wreath grew brighter and brighter, as the day on the calendar grew nearer and nearer, as the wonder in our hearts grew deeper and deeper. And finally, the night has come. This is the night, the angel told the shepherds, that to us is born, this day, in the city of David, a savior who is the Messiah, the Lord.
This is the night the angel foretold, when he told Zechariah his son would make ready a people prepared for the Lord. This is the night the angel proclaimed, when he told Mary she would bear the Son of God. This is the night Elizabeth exclaimed, when she cried, “Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”
This night so humble, this night so mild, this night, in a baby asleep on a girl child’s lap, in heavenly host singing glory to a field of unkempt shepherds, this is the night that we witness the Word of God made flesh come and dwell among us. This is the night that the king of Kings was born.
What child is this, who, laid to rest, on Mary’s lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the king, whom shepherds guard and angels sing;
haste, haste to bring him laud, the babe, the son of Mary!
To what humble dwellings, the Lord of Hosts was born. Born not in a palace of silver and gold, born not to parents of wealth and esteem, born not among leaders, kings, priests, or saints. But here in a stable, with sheep and with cows. Here to young parents, unmarried and poor. Here, heralded by shepherds, untrusted and scorned.
This simple birth set the stage for a life of reversal. Even as a man grown with disciples and crowds, he would never stray far from this humble beginning. The child born unwelcome would welcome the children. This child seen by shepherds would shepherd the hungry. He would break bread with sinners and forgive all the hurting. He would heal saddened hearts and give hope in our longing. And then…
This night is not the only night that the world waits in anticipation. Because also wrapped up in the glory of this night is the knowledge that when this baby grew up, his teaching and preaching, the glorious upheaval that this birth foretold; would draw the attention of the authorities. And those powerful players, like powerful players throughout all of history, like powerful players today, would not want in the world a man like this. Would not want in the world someone who told the poor they had value, who told the hurting they were loved, who promised forgiveness to sinners, and grace for all the world. The powers of this world do not want us to know that love is abundant. They want us to live in a world where greed, where shame, where conflict and pain are the forces that matter, because by such forces the powerful retain their power. But Jesus came proclaiming power of a different sort. Jesus came and said that you, exactly who you are, exactly as you are, are the people who whom Christ was born. You who sit here tonight wondering if you have enough, if you are enough. You who question, and doubt, and wonder if such good news could truly be for you, if a God who knows all, who sees all, could truly know, and love, and forgive you, this child born in a manger attests to the power of God’s promise. And for that, because the powers of this world do not want us to know our true worth, this child in a manger would one day face death. He would be brought before powers, crucified, die, and be buried. But then, on a night much like this one, the church again gathers to whisper the promise that this is the night.
Because this child born in a manger would rise from the dead. This child born of Mary would defeat death itself. This birth sung by angels is the birth of new life. All of this, resurrection and heartbreak; despair, hope, and promise; all of this set in motion on this one holy night.
Why lies he in such mean estate where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians fear; for sinners here the silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spears shall pierce him through, the cross be borne for me, for you;
hail, hail the Word made flesh, the babe, the son of Mary!
We bring to this child all our fears and our longings, we bring to this child all our hopes and desires. This Child born of Mary is God the incarnate; this child born of Mary is life for the world. The gold he desires is the gold he makes from us, the incense and myrrh is the scent of new life. We can come to this place with our hands and hearts open, for from our very lives, God is making the world.
Do not worry on this night, of the gifts you are bringing. Do not worry what you bring, for you are enough. Come just as you are, be a guest at this banquet, come just as you are to the table of grace. For here, at this table, the Christ child is waiting; here bread and wine are a feast to foretaste. A foretaste of the promise which God is creating; a foretaste of the promise that God has for all.
So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh; come, peasant, king, to own him.
The King of kings salvation brings; let loving hearts enthrone him.
Raise, raise the song on high, the virgin sings her lullaby;
Joy, joy, for Christ is born, the babe, the son of Mary!
This is the night of God born among us; this is the night of our dear Savior’s birth. Tonight above all nights we shout and sing praises, our voices ring loudly with heavenly hosts.
But not too loud. Because tonight we remember a baby is sleeping, tonight we stay silent, we watch and we wait. For on Mary’s lap, the dear Christ Child is sleeping. On Mary’s lap lies Love incarnate.
What child is this, who, laid to rest, on Mary’s lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the king, whom shepherds guard and angels sing;
haste, haste to bring him laud, the babe, the son of Mary!
Sermon interspersed with the hymn "What Child is This" by William C. Dix. Taken from Evangelical Lutheran Worship hymn number 296 (Augsburg Fortress: Minneapolis, MN, 2006).
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