St. Andrews Episcopal Church

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SERMON PREACHED ON CHRISTMAS EVE 2006

For emotion and memory, what can compare with the music of Christmas? Easter music pales in comparison. Musical gifts are very diverse: some of you can read music, some can’t, but most of you can sing the melodies, making for beautiful, stereophonic carols tonight. Some of you play instruments: tonight’s violin, organ, and harp – sometimes, even, percussion! Even if you can’t “carry a tune,” you can simply enjoy the music - but I invite you to sing along, anyway – even in monotone, and feel the vibrations. (God cares more about participation than perfection.) Wherever you are on the spectrum, music can touch your heart. Sing with me a bit.

O Little Town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie,
above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent world goes by. . .

Sentiment from all our experiences of Christmas feed our souls, even secular music, like this embodiment of holiday nostalgia with all the trimmings – called “tranquil, idealized innocence.” Sing with me another phrase:

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know. . .

I can count on one hand the number of white Christmases I’ve experienced in Oklahoma and Massachusetts - or here in California, but that song is a part of our emotional heritage. Whenever I hear it, I imagine the comforting visions of Christmas-at-home that song brought to our troops in World War II, though I doubt if Denver is feeling that right now.

A few of you – such as our Maestro Jack Vogel - have the gift of arranging and composing music! In a sense that’s what Jesus did. After absorbing the traditional music of his culture and time, he composed a new song. People loved it, authorities didn’t! It was an
arrangement of that music that Luke made for the gentiles, Matthew for the Jews.

I love musicals, enjoy writing them, so I pay attention to form. Before the curtain rises, the orchestra’s overture features snippets of its musical themes. Remember the overtures of Oklahoma,” “South Pacific,” “Music Man,” heralding portents of music to come, all the more
exciting and pleasurable when you know the songs by heart. This year it occurred to me that the birth narratives of Luke and Matthew are the “overtures” to their gospels, composing theologies
dealing with meaning more than history. Like musical overtures they signal themes to come, and - like those overtures - the birth narratives were the last to be written after Jesus’ music had been sung and committed to heart, summaries of coming events. Their birth narratives are more than innocent songs of “Baby Jesus,” they indicate challenges faced in following Jesus’ way.

To identify Jesus with the Messiah, both overtures focus on Bethlehem, fulfilling the prophecy of Micah. To move the Holy Family from Nazareth to “the city of David,” Luke writes of a census ordered by Caesar Augustus. Glorious themes break forth in Luke’s overture, nearby shepherd boys serenaded by “the angel of the Lord,” words foreshadowing the announcement of the angel’s at Jesus’ tomb: “Fear not!” Then those exciting words: “Listen! News of great joy!” followed by an extravaganza by the entire cast singing : “Glory to God in the highest; on earth, peace, good will!”

Matthew’s overture introduces darker themes. That guiding star attracts gentiles – magi, scientists of their time, neither included nor welcome in God’s family. A little rondo of themes - kingship, lordship, death = gold, frankincense, myrrh – woven into the music. Immediately Jesus is in trouble with the law – Herod out to get him, foreshadowing Jesus’ run-in with the Roman government, who eventually kill him.

To be insightful, as well as sentimental, I challenge you to sing the song of Christmas in this new century. How can that be? Because the amazing miracle of music is that a musical score can be “read” across the centuries: whether Gregorian chant or Beethoven - or American musicals. So how can you sing the song of Christmas? Here’s one way Luke’s overture is sung:

Choir: Glory to God, glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth. What a heavenly host!

You can sing the song of the angels by letting go of your fears – they only paralyze. With meaning that comes from faith in Jesus’ process, you need not be afraid of life. So. . . fear not!

Luke’s overture says: listen - closely. You can sing to the glory of God by becoming a peacemaker. In his Beatitudes Jesus taught, “How blessed are the peacemakers; they shall be called the children of God.” Children of God!! Sing the song of peace, not acquiescence, but
wholeness and health for you and your family, mutual respect between cultures here and nations abroad. Sing “peace on earth” with an arrangement unique to you. Exchanging gifts involves a
lot of thoughtful love, but imagine bringing peace – well-being and health – to a person, a family by giving a practical gift beyond your world – through the Heifer Project, Episcopal Relief and Development, SAMA - where the only return is peace and a song in your heart!

Sing Jesus’ spirit of good will. Worry less about the quality of your singing voice, andfocus on the authenticity of your living voice by being a person of good will. The music of the angelic choir has faded after 2000 years, possibly drowned out by conflicts and by carols blaring
in stores: “Angels we have heard on high tell us to go out and buy!” A jaded, troubled world has too often laid aside the possibility of the Christian message – sometimes for good reason. Yet the world longs to hear those angelic voices, again. You are the angel voice or there is silence, with only hints of what might have been echoing in hearts from childhood memories.

Matthew’s overture involves a birth star, camels, and wise men from the East. Sing a phrase with me:

We three Kings of Orient are, bearing gifts we traverse afar. . .

By your attitude, sing Matthew’s song of inclusion: all people welcome in the household of God. All people, no reservations of any kind. Not every Christian thinks that’s a good thing. We Episcopalians do. Jesus’ birth was the Word from God that every birth is special.

At the time Matthew composed his overture featuring the very irritated Herod the King, the church was counter-cultural, caring for the poor and sick, widows and orphans - and illegal. Not that Constantine was converted in the 4th century, as much as he converted Christianity from
its innocent origins into coercive control. Co-opted, Christianity became politically powerful, but spiritually impotent, an instrument of death, sword and cross together in the Middle East Crusades, in the new world here in California, and the Inquisition – just to name a few. Christian history is every bit as violent as Islamic history, so it is in humility for the sins of our own past that we Christians need to sing in hopeful, penitent, tones the song of Jesus. That pure melody can allow you to hear the songs of other faiths and approach the people of good will at the heart of every religion. Harmonizing with Matthew’s overture, you can - in the name of Christ - sing a song of justice for all, remembering Matthew’s warning that singing Jesus’ song can get you into trouble. You’ll sometimes be seen as counter-culture, sometimes at odds with political forces, as Jesus was. But in his spirit “Onward Christian Soldiers Marching as to War” can be replaced with “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me” – a very personal, updated version of the angelic choir.

So. . . what’s your Christmas song? What song best reflects you, your hopes and dreams, your own life as you stand before the manger in Bethlehem - when it’s just Jesus and you and the stars in the sky? Maybe you’ll need to compose a new song – as Jesus did – to reflect his spirit in a new time. Being a percussionist, guess what my song would be? The “Little Drummer Boy,” so when all my Christmases are done, I can sing, “I played my best for him, a rumpa, pum, pum – me and my drum.” Merry Christmas!

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