"A Night To Remember"

 

            This was a night to remember.

            The shepherds, they would remember that night for the rest of their lives, remember the angels visiting them on the hillside, remember their visit to that stable in the little town of Bethlehem, remember meeting Mary and Joseph, remember, and this would be the greatest memory of them all, remember greeting the Messiah, the Lord, wrapped in cloth and lying in a manger.

            Mary and Joseph, they remembered as well. They remembered how they had met, the plans they made together, the hopes they had for a married life together. They remembered that strange angel greeting to Mary, and the promise that she would be the one to bring into this world a special child, a child that they would name Jesus. They would remember the long pregnancy, the excitement of Mary’s visit to see her cousin Elizabeth; they would also remember the long trip to Bethlehem to take part in the census.

            And when the shepherds finally departed, having told Mary and Joseph the angel tidings, we are told that “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Remembering it all, trying to put it together in her mind, trying to figure out what it meant for her and her young family.

            This was a night to remember long ago; and this is a night to remember for us as well.

            So many of our special memories are wrapped up in celebrations of Christmas. We remember the excitement we knew as children, lying in bed on Christmas Eve, tossing and turning and wondering if we could stay awake long enough to hear the reindeer prancing on the roof, or if Santa would eat the cookies we left out for him, or if we really would get that sled or doll or Red Raider BB gun that we hoped we would get. We remember the joy of the family dinner on Christmas Day, all the generations gathered around the table, the roast beast or the turkey and the special dishes and the candlelight. And then, later, some of us remember having that special someone with us on that day, so proud and excited and nervous and wondering if the rest of the family would take to them.

            Of course we all have other memories of Christmas celebrations, memories that might not always be so happy – the Christmas you were away from family and friends, serving our country oversees, perhaps in wartime; that first Christmas after the loss of a parent or a spouse or a treasured relationship; that Christmas when it seemed as if you were the only one not in the spirit of the season.

              To remember something is to have it come to mind, something which often just happens, not prompted by an act of will.  Anything can set that memory off – a similar event, a taste, a smell, a song heard on the car radio, something you glimpse out of the corner of your eye.

But to remember something can also be an act of the will; we will ourselves to recollect it, we chew it over until suddenly the memory comes to life once again.

I think this is why Christmas Eve was a night to remember for Mary and Joseph, and a night to remember for us as well. Mary and Joseph were trying to make sense of it all, trying to put it all together, trying to figure out what it meant for them and their lives that Jesus was born.

And this is our proper work this evening as well, to not just hear this old, old story once again, but to remember it, to try to put it all together, to make sense of it for us and for our times and our lives.

What difference does it make to you that God so loved the world that God took on human form and weakness and lived among us and taught us and suffered with us and died for us?

What difference does it make, for instance, that the Prince of Peace came to us, promising us a peace beyond all human understanding, when we live in a time when the status quo seems to be a constant state of war?

What difference does it make to us that the first Christmas prompted generous giving by everyone, by wise men from the East, from shepherds on a hillside, from animals at the stable?

What difference does it make that in the darkest night in the darkest time of year in one of the darkest eras of history a light shone in the darkness, and the darkness has never prevailed against it?

Bottom line, what difference does it make to us that Jesus was born?

Christmas eve is a night to remember, but of course the task is too much for just one evening. Which is why we gather together each Saturday and Sunday throughout the year, to remember. To retell the story until we come closer to getting it right, to hash it our, to chew on it, to seek its meaning for us in our lives, in the joys and sorrows of the one life we each have been gifted with.

So let us, tonight, remember – remember to not only welcome Jesus into our hearts once again, but to remember throughout the year to come as well. Then it will be both a merry Christmas, and a happy new year. Amen.