It’s always a little strange when Christmas Eve falls on a Sunday as it did this year. But as such, Salem Lutheran Church in Fontanelle, Nebraska decided to move up the start of Advent this year a week earlier. That allowed for a little more time to dwell in Advent themes but also an opportunity to do something a bit differently on the last morning of Advent, on the morning of Sunday December 24, 2023. The hymns for this service were “pick your favorite,” meaning anyone in the congregation could pick an Advent or Christmas hymn of their choice from either of of the hymnals in the sanctuary. This helped incorporate a few hymns we might have missed otherwise. These hymns were paired with a sampling of late Advent/early Christmas scriptures which are often not heard in worship. The gospel passage selected for this service was Matthew 1:18-25. Providing a nice counter balance to Luke 2:1-20 as would be heard later in the Christmas Eve worship that evening, or John 1 as heard on Christmas Day the following morning. I was invited to preach, in part to help give my wife Allison one service off from preaching over the course of a busy week for any preacher. What follows is the majority of the manuscript that I preached from.
[Editor’s Note: Yes, this was from almost a month ago. That’s how far behind I am on posting on my blog. But hopefully this might still be of interest.]
Grace and peace from the One who is, and is to come, Jesus our Emmanuel. Amen.
Pop quiz. What is the most common four-word phrase you might hear from the backseat in the car? Especially if you’re driving with kids. “Are we there yet?” Bingo. Of course. I’m sure we all have stories of asking and hearing that four-word question. This time of year, perhaps when out for a drive to see family or friends, a road-trip of sorts, weather dependent. Perhaps in the summer on a long drive across country. But I start there, because some of you, if we’re being honest might too be wondering, “Are we there yet?” Have we reached the spot where the star shines in the sky? Have we reached the point of Jesus coming into the world?
This morning is an interesting space. We are literally straddling the changing of the seasons. It’s not quite like December 20th and 21st– moving from Fall to Winter. But we are at the transition point. This is the last morning of Advent. After today, the colors will change from blue to gold and white here in worship. For the evening that is to come, is the eve to the start of the great Twelve Days of Christmas. But we’re not quite there yet.
We’re in this space for just a little longer. And as we sit here, I find myself glad to hear Joseph’s side of the story this morning. We don’t often hear it in worship. But because we started Advent a little earlier than some churches this year, we have this extra space to breathe one last morning in the Advent season and hear about Joseph. Like Mary and Zechariah in Luke’s version of the Gospel, Joseph is also greeted by an angel. But in Matthew’s version of the story, Joseph’s encounter happens while he is asleep and dreaming.
It sounds like he is a good man. He’s faithful. He would do what is right, and in finding out that his soon to be wife is pregnant but not by him, he was prepared to do what his society of his time demanded, but to do so without shaming Mary. But God acted. God showed up. The angel of the Lord told him “do not be afraid,” and explained the work of the Holy Spirit and God’s doing.[1] The angel told of how Mary will bear a son, and together Joseph and Mary are to name their son Jesus, “for he will save his people from their sins.”[2] This story is quoting the prophet Isaiah which we have spent some time hearing from and dwelling in this Advent season.[3] Joseph ultimately then awakes, and does as the angel said. And then the rest of the story happens…
But we honestly don’t hear much more about Joseph in the scriptures. We hear about him in the next chapter in Matthew when the Holy Family flees to Egypt,[4] and later when Mary and Joseph are worried that they have lost Jesus at the temple when he is about twelve years old.[5] We know that he is a carpenter. But the rest of his story… well, the scriptures don’t say a lot. He’s kind of a mystery. But definitely a vital part of this story. Of God at work doing only what God can do. I kind of wish I could know a little more about him. Don’t you?
There’s so much emotion, questions, ideas, wonderings, that go along with this story. The story of the expectant hope and longing of Advent, and the incarnation of God breaking into the world through a vulnerable baby. A birth that wasn’t grand. A birth that wasn’t safe. A birth into a world that if we read just a little further in Matthew, we hear that King Herod would be out to kill all newborns to stop this king Jesus from being born and growing up.[6] Yes, Christmas is beautiful. But don’t be fooled. The world was broken, hurting, and in need of a savior when Jesus came… and the world is still that way today.
That said, there’s at least three things that come to my mind when I think about this story and as we breathe in this space between Advent and Christmas. This year, I seem to be struck by the three related but distinct feelings and reactions of awe, joy, and wonder.
We’re celebrating this morning by picking our favorite Advent and Christmas hymns to sing. And it’s in this spirit that I too want to a share a few of mine, at least ones that tie into these three things. So, thinking about Awe. Any Christmas hymn could work for this, but this year, a newer Advent hymn comes to mind, called “Unexpected and Mysterious.”
The hymn’s writer Jeannette Lindholm writes, “Unexpected and mysterious is the gentle word of grace. Ever loving and sustaining is the peace of God’s embrace. If we falter in our courage and we doubt what we have known, God is faithful to console us as a mother tends her own. In a momentary meeting of eternity and time, Mary learned that she would carry both the mortal and divine. Then she learned of God’s compassion, of Elizabeth’s great joy, and she ran to greet the woman who would recognize her boy. We are called to ponder mystery and await the coming Christ, to embody God’s compassion for each fragile human life. God is with us in our longing to bring healing to the earth, while we watch with joy and wonder for the promised Savior’s birth.”[7]
Awe. Recognizing God is active and up to something. Something though the prophets like Isaiah long foretold, no one could ever imagine. A child, born in a manger? The Son of God born as a baby, just like you and me? Whose mother had to endure the last days of her pregnancy perhaps riding on the bumps of a donkey? This story is crazy. It’s full of mystery and intrigue. And yet, we can’t help but come back to it. Because in our hearts, we know that it’s real and we are a part of it. God is doing something. God comes. God is here. God is with us. Emmanuel. Yes. And that gives me awe.
I feel joy too. The joy of seeing the season through the eyes of a three-year-old and a five-year-old. Of seeing their excited looks not because of presents under the tree, but because of the warmth of the feel of the lights. Of the ability to play around with the nativity scene and to live out the story. Yes, at least in our house this year, there hasn’t been one nativity set that hasn’t had its pieces moved around by our daughters. And that goes double for the village and the ice skaters on their rink. I am a dad. I imagine like Joseph did too, I have the feeling and urge to try and correct behavior and attention gently and directly at times. To try and say, “please look but don’t touch.” But we all know how well that goes. And that’s part of the story too.
The story is tangible and there is joy in that. We know this joy. It’s like the hymn #267 that sits in our hymnals marking the change from Advent to Christmas, bridging the two seasons. Sing the first verse with me, “Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her king; let every heart prepare him room and heaven and nature sing, and heaven and nature sing, and heaven and heaven and nature sing.”[8] Joy. A joy so deep it can only be summed up really through the sharing of one’s heart through a song like that.
And then, there’s the third thing I am feeling this year. We hear that Mary pondered all these things in her heart.[9] I imagine Joseph did too. I mean if you were him, what would you be thinking about after a dream like he just had? I’d have questions like Zechariah, and we know how that worked out for that poor guy. Nine months of not being able to say a word. Maybe that was a gift for Elizabeth? I don’t know. But I know at least for me, I’d have questions. I’d be wondering, what is God up to? Why is God doing this? Coming to be with us, like this?
And it’s when I wonder these questions that I just find myself singing one more old familiar Christmas carol. It comes from the Appalachians, “I Wonder as I Wander.” Perhaps you know the words too. It’s even in the blue With One Voice hymnals, #642, in your pew racks. The song goes, “I wonder as I wander, out under the sky, how Jesus the Savior did come for to die for poor ordinary people like you and like I. I wonder as I wander, out under the sky. When Mary birthed Jesus, all in a cow’s stall, came wisemen and farmers and shepherds and all, and high from the heavens a star’s light did fall; the promise of the ages it then did recall. If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing, a star in the sky or a bird on the wing, or all of God’s angels in heaven for to sing, he surely could have had it, ‘cause he was the king. I wonder as I wander, out under the sky, how Jesus the Savior did come for to die for poor ordinary people like you and like I. I wonder as I wander out under the sky.”[10]
Wonder. It’s a beautiful thing. It’s full of questions. Imagination. Taking deep breaths. Being present. Walking. Sitting. Running. Singing. Crying. Hugging. Hoping. Praying. All the while being with God in all of it.
Friends, no matter what emotions or things might be running through your head today, in this time and space between seasons, know that God is with you in them. Whether you’re like me and caught in experiences of awe, joy, and wonder, or whether today is a hard day remembering a loved one no longer here or someone you care about who is far away this Christmas. You’re not alone. God not only comes to us as a babe in Bethlehem, but God is here with you and me. Now and always. And we are in this together as God’s people. So we can sing. Pray. Ponder. Gather. Cry. Smile. Hug. Embrace. And share peace and embody God’s love, which is at the heart of this entire story we know so well.
People of God, remember the words of the prophet Isaiah, as Joseph was reminded of in his dream. “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means, ‘God is with us.’”[11] With you. With me. And with all of God’s beloved of all and for all times and places. And for that we can all say, thanks be to God. Amen.
Sources, References, and Citations:
[1] Matthew 1:20, NRSV.
[2] Matthew 1:21, NRSV.
[3] The story is quoting Isaiah 7:14.
[4] As described in the story of Matthew 2:1-23.
[5] As described in the story of Luke 2:41-51.
[6] As described in Matthew 2.
[7] Jeannette M. Lindholm, Calvin Hampton, “Unexpected and Mysterious,” as found in Evangelical Lutheran Worship, (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 2006), 258.
[8] Isaac Watts, “Joy to the World,” as found in Evangelical Lutheran Worship, 267.
[9] As in Luke 2:19 and Luke 2:51, for example.
[10] “I Wonder As I Wander,” adapted by John Jacob Niles, as found in With One Voice, (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1995), 642.
[11] Matthew 1:23, NRSV.
Timothy Siburg 