Do you have a favorite Christmas carol? Right now I’d say O Little Town of Bethlehem… not my favorite melody, but I just noticed this year that the text is fantastic. Have a look at all the verses sometime. If this sermon gets boring just pick up a hymnal, it’s in there… that’ll be a good sermon for you. Sometime I'll tell you about the missing verse.
On the less-explicitly-religious side I’m a big fan of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas, with it’s combination of melancholy and hope. There’s so much happiness to be found even in our “muddling through somehow.”
But my very favorite Christmas carols are the very first Christmas carols. There were four of them, the originals, that very first Christmas. They weren’t piped into shopping centers and elevators; they were sung in quiet rooms by winter fires, in the Temple, under the stars, and in one case actually out amongst the stars. You can find them in the first two chapters of Luke’s Gospel. Three of them are known by their authors: The Canticle of Zechariah, The Canticle of Mary, The Canticle of Simeon. Priests and religious and those faithful who pray the Liturgy of the Hours pray these three texts every single day! The one sung by angels we call simply call “Gloria,” and you hear it at Mass through most of the year.
That sounds to me like the makings of a pretty decent sermon series, and having a look at the upcoming Feasts, it all maps out nicely. When the Feast of the Holy Family comes up Sunday, I’d like to consider with you the Gloria sung by the angels. On the Solemnity of Mary we’ll consider the Canticle of Mary. The Canticle of Simeon is a nice fit for Epiphany. So there’s a little preview of coming attractions.
Today, though, let’s look at the Christmas carol first sung by Zechariah. It’s in Luke 1:67-79. Zechariah was the father of John the Baptist, with Elizabeth his wife, who was a kinswoman of Mary’s. I don’t know if Elizabeth had a difficult pregnancy with John the Baptist, but it sure was tough for Zechariah. Here’s what happened. They were an older couple, well beyond the age when there was any chance of having children. Zechariah was a Temple priest, and an angel came to him in the sanctuary one day to announce that he and Elizabeth would conceive a child. But Zechariah was skeptical, doubtful of God’s promise. So the angel said, for doubting God’s promise, you won’t be able to speak until the child is born.
So for nine months Zechariah uttered not a word. I always wonder if Elizabeth took advantage of that: “honey I was thinking of redoing the bedroom in lots of fluffy purple… any objections? No? Oh, lovely.”
After nine months of silence, plenty of time to think things over, Zechariah opened his mouth, and this is what he said, very likely in a chant of praise and prophecy:
“Blessed be the Lord,
The God of Israel;
He has come to His people and set them free.
“He has raised up for us a mighty Savior,
Born of the house of His servant David.
“Through His holy prophets He promised of old
That He would save us from our enemies,
From the hands of all who hate us.
“He promised to show mercy to our fathers
And to remember His holy Covenant.
“This was the oath He swore to our father Abraham:
To set us free from the hands of our enemies,
Free to worship Him without fear,
Holy and righteous in His sight
All the days of our life.
“You, My child shall be called the prophet of the Most High,
For you will go before the Lord to prepare His way,
To give his people knowledge of salvation
By the forgiveness of their sins.
“In the tender compassion of our God
The dawn from on high shall break upon us,
to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,
And to guide our feet into the way of peace.”
You can tell he’d given some thought to his first words! Praying this every day as part of Morning Prayer, the words have become tremendously meaningful to me over time. So I’ll force myself to pluck out just a few points. Notice how it begins with an acknowledgment of God’s Promise… Zechariah has learned his lesson well. God’s Promises are kept! “He has raised up for us a mighty savior, born of the house of his servant David…. through his holy prophets he promised of old… this was the oath he swore to Abraham…” As a priest of Israel, Zechariah knew the Prophets, knew the history of his people, knew that generations and generations had awaited the fulfillment of this great Promise. As a priest of Israel, Zechariah had sacrificed animal after animal in the Temple seeking atonement, knowing that none of these lambs and none of these sacrifices really had the power to take away sin. The first part of Zechariah’s song reminds us of the context of Christmas. This is the Promise kept. This is the salvation longed for since before time was counted. This is God coming with power to save. God’s Promise is kept. Freedom. Holiness. Righteousness. Forgiveness. Messiah.
Zechariah’s next words are addressed to his son John, the one we call ‘the Baptist.’ “You, my child, shall be called the Prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way.” And that’s just what John did. Zechariah’s son would stand as the bridge of the two Testaments, Old and New, the last in the great line of Old Testament Prophets, and the first public witness to the Savior.
So, Zechariah began with a word of praise to God, then a word of prophecy about his son John. Now picture him turning to you and me with the last verse of this original Christmas carol:
“In the tender compassion of our God,
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,
to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,
And to guide our feet into the way of peace.”
This word is for everyone here!
When you hear Zechariah talk about “those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,” I hope you don’t think immediately, “Yep, that’s my life in a nutshell. Darkness and the shadow of death.” That’s not my wish for you. But maybe that’s where life has taken you right now. I’m speaking now to those of you who really live in deep darkness. You can’t break the habit. You can’t stop the sin. You can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. You can’t take back that thing that was done, and you can’t get over it and move on. Someone is missing, someone has gone from the world and taken all the light in your life with them. Darkness and the shadow of death.
Christmas doesn’t mean there’s no hurt. Christmas doesn’t mean there’s no darkness. Christmas is just what Zechariah said: it’s the breaking dawn. It’s the first glimmer. And it carries the promise of a new day. “The dawn from on high shall break upon us.”
We all have darkness in our lives, and we all deal in one way or another with the shadow of death. Sometimes it’s crushing, sometimes it’s light enough you could forget it’s there. Whatever your life is right now, that light is shining on you. The dawn is breaking. It’s God keeping his promise. It’s the candle that won’t go out. It’s the hope that won’t be broken. It’s the love that will use his last breath to pray for forgiveness for his murderers, the love that will rise from the shadow of death because it can not die.
… “and guide our feet into the way of peace.” Peace the world can not give. Peace in your family, peace in your work, peace among nations and sexes and races and creeds and orientations and economic classes and… most incredibly of all… peace in that tumultuous, restless, always-yearning heart of yours. It can happen. He’s shown us the way. He’s come among us, God with us, Emmanuel. “In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace.”
Not bad first words after nine months of silent consideration. Not bad for an original Christmas carol.
Merry Christmas to all of you, and may the breaking dawn shine warmly in your hearts, and may your feet find the way of peace!
Comments
Post a Comment