We Make Room - A Christmas Eve reflection for 8 p.m.
This year I have been thinking a lot about those shepherds.
You know the ones, just watching their flock at night. Alert. Mindful that each one is precious – a source of sustenance and warmth.
The shepherds’ work was to be present to the flock. To watch with all their senses.
They would have done this work on land belonging to their family, familiar land – a safe place. Rugged. But known to them.
On this particular night, angels show up with a message and shining glory – show up in a way that strikes fear among the shepherds – the shepherds whose job was to confront fearful things like darkness, predators, thieves in the night.
That glory of the LORD must have been something.
Loud? Bright? Earth shaking?
Anyway…whatever the shepherds experienced in the darkness of night caused them to walk away from their assigned work, walk away from their watchfulness, walk away from the pasture familiar to them.
The shepherds seemed to understand that this Savior, this Messiah, the one born in the City of David, was a big deal.
Perhaps the angel’s words triggered memory and the knowing of deep tradition – a glimpse of age-old prophesies. Perhaps the hope of that Savior bumped up against the hardship of their life in a land that was occupied by Rome.
They left their land, their fields -- the place they knew like the back of their hand. They set off across the rocky and steep, hilly terrain. They went into Bethlehem to see for themselves. They made room in their priorities to walk away from the work that was their core identity and the place that was theirs to go and see. They made room to leave what they knew behind for a few hours.
They made room in their life to show up.
In reality, there is a lot of that kind making room in this story.
Mary, young and unwed, makes room in her body to carry the Christ child.
She makes room in her life trajectory to say yes to what God asks in spite of societal expectations.
Joseph, perhaps a little embarrassed but loyal and compassionate, makes room in his heart to believe that this is all really happening and that God’s in all of it somehow.
The town of Bethlehem itself makes room for visitors who are traveling for the census.
Some family member makes room in their home for this young couple and, oh by the way, a home birth. While there are other family members in town…
There is a lot of making room in this story.
All these folks setting aside what is part of their routine, part of what is familiar, part of what is expected, part of what is acceptable, even part of their identity, making room.
Making room for a baby.
Who is Jesus.
Who is the son of God.
But maybe that feels too big – too complicated to fully embrace.
Maybe it feels more manageable to say they are making room for God to show up.
They are making room for God’s LOVE to be born in the world.
Perhaps at the most basic level, they are making room for love.
And love makes a difference.
…even if you are not really sure that you believe in God or that Jesus is God’s son.
It’s hard to deny that love makes a difference.
Love changes lives.
Love changes the air around us.
Love changes the world.
I wonder….
What might it look like for us to make room, every day, for love?
What might it look like for us to make room, every day, for the new thing God is doing in our midst?
What might it look like to make room?
Maybe it looks like letting someone merge on I-270.
Maybe it looks like adding a place at the already crowded table.
Maybe in looks like learning and using someone’s preferred pronouns, using them well, and sharing your own.
Maybe it looks like scooting over in your pew and offering a friendly smile and hello.
Maybe it looks like listening to someone whose life is very different from your own – listening to understand, not to respond.
Maybe it involves praying for peace for people you will never meet in places you will never visit.
So many ways…some of them pretty simple…to make room for love in this world.
Making room likely means that we have to step off our normal path, we have to let go of what we know or our need to control.
Traverse a different pasture. Take a risk. Offer ourselves in service to something bigger.
Making room. Because love changes things.
Much like a baby born in an over-crowded town in first century Palestine continues to change things 2000 years later.
Can we make room in our hearts, in our lives, in our actions for love that makes a this Christmas?
Can we say yes to God’s call to us to carry love into the world?
I pray that we can, together.
May it be so.
Amen.
Luke 2: 1 – 20 8 p.m.
December 24, 2023
Rev. Dr. Laura Norvell
This year I have been thinking a lot about those shepherds.
You know the ones, just watching their flock at night. Alert. Mindful that each one is precious – a source of sustenance and warmth.
The shepherds’ work was to be present to the flock. To watch with all their senses.
They would have done this work on land belonging to their family, familiar land – a safe place. Rugged. But known to them.
On this particular night, angels show up with a message and shining glory – show up in a way that strikes fear among the shepherds – the shepherds whose job was to confront fearful things like darkness, predators, thieves in the night.
That glory of the LORD must have been something.
Loud? Bright? Earth shaking?
Anyway…whatever the shepherds experienced in the darkness of night caused them to walk away from their assigned work, walk away from their watchfulness, walk away from the pasture familiar to them.
The shepherds seemed to understand that this Savior, this Messiah, the one born in the City of David, was a big deal.
Perhaps the angel’s words triggered memory and the knowing of deep tradition – a glimpse of age-old prophesies. Perhaps the hope of that Savior bumped up against the hardship of their life in a land that was occupied by Rome.
They left their land, their fields -- the place they knew like the back of their hand. They set off across the rocky and steep, hilly terrain. They went into Bethlehem to see for themselves. They made room in their priorities to walk away from the work that was their core identity and the place that was theirs to go and see. They made room to leave what they knew behind for a few hours.
They made room in their life to show up.
In reality, there is a lot of that kind making room in this story.
Mary, young and unwed, makes room in her body to carry the Christ child.
She makes room in her life trajectory to say yes to what God asks in spite of societal expectations.
Joseph, perhaps a little embarrassed but loyal and compassionate, makes room in his heart to believe that this is all really happening and that God’s in all of it somehow.
The town of Bethlehem itself makes room for visitors who are traveling for the census.
Some family member makes room in their home for this young couple and, oh by the way, a home birth. While there are other family members in town…
There is a lot of making room in this story.
All these folks setting aside what is part of their routine, part of what is familiar, part of what is expected, part of what is acceptable, even part of their identity, making room.
Making room for a baby.
Who is Jesus.
Who is the son of God.
But maybe that feels too big – too complicated to fully embrace.
Maybe it feels more manageable to say they are making room for God to show up.
They are making room for God’s LOVE to be born in the world.
Perhaps at the most basic level, they are making room for love.
And love makes a difference.
…even if you are not really sure that you believe in God or that Jesus is God’s son.
It’s hard to deny that love makes a difference.
Love changes lives.
Love changes the air around us.
Love changes the world.
I wonder….
What might it look like for us to make room, every day, for love?
What might it look like for us to make room, every day, for the new thing God is doing in our midst?
What might it look like to make room?
Maybe it looks like letting someone merge on I-270.
Maybe it looks like adding a place at the already crowded table.
Maybe in looks like learning and using someone’s preferred pronouns, using them well, and sharing your own.
Maybe it looks like scooting over in your pew and offering a friendly smile and hello.
Maybe it looks like listening to someone whose life is very different from your own – listening to understand, not to respond.
Maybe it involves praying for peace for people you will never meet in places you will never visit.
So many ways…some of them pretty simple…to make room for love in this world.
Making room likely means that we have to step off our normal path, we have to let go of what we know or our need to control.
Traverse a different pasture. Take a risk. Offer ourselves in service to something bigger.
Making room. Because love changes things.
Much like a baby born in an over-crowded town in first century Palestine continues to change things 2000 years later.
Can we make room in our hearts, in our lives, in our actions for love that makes a this Christmas?
Can we say yes to God’s call to us to carry love into the world?
I pray that we can, together.
May it be so.
Amen.
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