Christmas isn’t just for Christians anymore.  Actually, it never was.  The baby was born to all this [Christmas]
day in the city of David, just happens to be Christ the Lord.  Sure, I know the Jewish context.  Yes, I’m aware of the fact that
Christians are the ones who have kept his birth front and center for a couple
of thousand years.  Yet God came
into the world, the light entered into the darkness, to save the world, and to
illumine the darkness—all of it. 
Just because we Christians “get it” doesn’t mean the nativity was just
for us.  
Think of it this way:
         You develop a vaccine for AIDS.  Do you sell it to the highest bidder
knowing that it will be safeguarded for those who have the wealth to afford
it?  Or do you do everything in
your power to make sure that those who are at risk can receive it, no matter
what the cost?
         You hear a song so beautiful that it
inspires the heart of all who hear it. 
Do you sing it for yourself and your family and friends? Or do you
bombard the airwaves for those whose lives are devoid of inspiration?
         You happen upon a protein rich, delectable
vegetable that can grow in nearly all conditions and is about as hard to
get rid of as a thistle.  Do you
leave it to the small remote tribe that thrives on it or do you take the seeds
and send them to Sub-Saharan Africa, ship them to the protein poor Altiplano in
Bolivia, or offer them to Palestinian women in the Gaza strip to supplement
their meager gardens?
         You have a dear friend who can literally
fix anything.  If it’s broken,
unassembled, if you cannot figure out how to make some project around the house
work—you know you can call him and he’ll drop what he’s doing and come over and
within the hour he’ll have the problem solved.  He’s retired and he loves to be needed (and he’s truly a
great example of servanthood).  Do
you keep him your little secret, knowing that you’ve got more than your fair
share of things that need fixing? 
Or do you introduce him to friends and acquaintances that could use his
help?
         I
know that Jesus shows up as a new born baby.  He’s extraordinary, I know that, but I also know that as far
as babies go he’s pretty much limited to crying, eating, sleeping, and dirtying
his swaddling cloths.  He’s born to
poor parents on the run from the authorities, refugees in another nation, and
then goes on to become either an apprentice carpenter or a rabbi-in-training
with the local teacher of the law. 
It’s going to be a while until he sets out to publically reveal that he
is the long-awaited Anointed One of God. 
But we know who he is because
we’re experiencing this celebration in rewind/reverse.  We see the manger in light of the
cross.  We see the angels coming
down from the heavens from the perspective of Jesus ascending upward into
heaven.  As Christians, we
experience Christmas the birth of our Savior from the perspective of sinners
who have already been saved—as the blind who can finally see—as lost souls who
have been found and restored to our place as sons and daughters of royalty.
         If
we just go about our advent season, if we just chug along toward our family
Christmas celebration, without inviting the folks who populate our daily lives
to come and join us, it would be the equivalent to keeping the vaccine, the
beautiful song, the life sustaining vegetable, and our miraculously gifted
friend all to ourselves.  And in
each of those contexts we would
consider such behavior unconscionable. 
We would consider it heartless. 
Keeping Jesus to ourselves—hoarding his grace and forgiveness for ‘me
and mine’—especially during this holiday season, is equally unconscionable for
followers of the living Christ.
         Christmas
is not just for Christians, in fact, if you go back and reread the Christmas
story you discover that Christmas was specifically directed to those who could
be found outside the synagogue and Temple of the day:  scruffy shepherds, foreign magicians, provincial out-of-towners
holed up in the caves on the outskirts of the city, and so on and so on.  I don’t so much think God cares how you
do it, but I do honestly believe that God expects you and I to share the incredible
news that “God is With Us”.  And,
though we are often reticent to mention it in today’s church, I think God will
hold us accountable for what we do with the Good News He has entrusted to us.  I suspect it will be part of that
difficult conversation some of us will have with our Creator when He brings us
Home once and for all.
         I’m
going to invite a few folks I know who don’t attend worship to join me during
this advent season at St. Andrew. 
I’m going to be a little more eager to offer to pray for those who share
a concern or worry with me in the course of my day.  I’m going to put a yard sign in my front lawn, a window
sticker in my car, and I’m going to carry a few cards in my pocket that include
an uplifting Christmas promise and the times for our Christmas Eve
worship.  I may or may not knock on
doors up and down my block, but when I stop and consider—even for a moment—how
richly the Christ of Bethlehem has blessed me, I know that I should not and
cannot keep it to myself.
         It
helps to remind myself:  Christmas
is not just for Christians anymore.