O God of grace, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will. 

      The town of Nazareth, in the Galilee is built on a hillside in the southern Lebanon Mountains.  It’s a bustling Palestinian city now with a population of about 65,000.   Archeological evidence indicates that in the first century, Nazareth had a population of about three hundred people – two to three clans – living in 35 cave dwellings.  It was an agricultural village in an area of about sixty acres.  In other words, it was small.  It’s not mentioned in extra-biblical written accounts of the area that list towns and villages – so either there weren’t people living there at all at the beginning of the first century when Mary was a girl and Jesus was a child, or it was so insignificant that it didn’t warrant mention in government records or maps.

     The Gospel of Luke’s story of the birth of Jesus starts with the annunciation – of an angel – a messenger from God named Gabriel visiting the young Mary.  Only one other Gospel, Matthew, addresses Jesus’ birth at all and Matthew’s narrative is not the stuff that would make a  Christmas Pageant.  The Gospel of Luke’s telling is one of the most fantastic, the most glorious, and the most unbelievable stories.  And it’s this unbelievable part that I want to speak about for a moment.  Because I want you to know that, despite what you may have heard, I don’t think the story of Christmas is primarily about what any of us believes.  Maybe we don’t love God or believe in Jesus as much as we were taught that we should – or as much as we think other people want us to – or even as much as we wish we did.  Perhaps we don’t buy any of it.  Maybe we just don’t believe in angels.  We probably don’t believe in virgin births.  What I want to tell you is that this celebration coming up is not about what any of us believes about angels or virgins or even Santa Claus, for that matter.  Christmas is a celebration of God believing in people – in us.

      This is a story about God believing in people so much that God would risk a surprise pregnancy, indeed an illegal pregnancy punishable by death.  By this account, God would risk being born into King David’s tattered line (there wasn’t much left of it by the time Jesus came around).  I mean, an impoverished Mary, living in a cave dwelling in Nazareth is not exactly like the Queen Mum in England!  This is a story about God who would risk childbirth under dreadfully difficult circumstances.  This is a story where a hugely pregnant Mary travels to Bethlehem, an over-crowded, oppressed, volatile village outside of Jerusalem, occupied by a foreign army, and delivers a baby in a smelly stable with the livestock.  In other words, the odds for simply surviving were not good!  Think of the promise of the “house” of David that we heard in the reading from 2 Samuel being fulfilled by someone not even born in a house and who was without a home or children for his entire ministry.  This is a very different and surprising kind of fulfillment.  It’s not the kind of fulfillment or satisfaction I would hope for!

      For the early Christians, this is a story that claims that Jesus is everything that Caesar Augustus claimed to be and more – miraculous birth, both human and divine – those were the attributes claimed by the Emperor of Rome.  Titles of the Roman emperor Caesar Augustus included  Son of God, God from God, Lord, Redeemer, Liberator, and Savior of the World.  “To use any of them of the newborn Jesus [who can’t even roll over unassisted] would be either low lampoon or high treason.”1 The story is risky on so many levels.

      This is a story about how much God believes in people – and the amazing risks that God takes to be in relationship.  When you consider the universe – and the conditions required to create and sustain life – it’s a wonder that any of us is here.  When you look at the history of the world – and all the horrendous things that people have done and continue to do to one another (sadly, often in the name of God), it’s a wonder that we still exist.  It’s not reasonable.  In fact, it’s totally unreasonable.  It’s unbelievable.  Perhaps it’s accidental, but I believe it’s love.  It’s the mystery of love.

      This is a love story about the lengths to which God will go – a celebration of the risks that God will take to have our companionship and the risks that God will take for us to be companions with one another along the way.  It’s an extraordinary story.  And I want to suggest to you that it’s a story of God showing up against formidable odds.  To me, it’s not unlike the odds against any one of us showing up this snowy morning in this place, given all of the other places we might have preferred to be instead.  That is also the mystery of love.

      So whether you cannot wait to see what’s under the tree or you already know that disappointment, sadness, or fear will eclipse whatever is wrapped in bright paper.  Whether you can hardly sit still anticipating the delight that a gift you are giving this year will bring, or you have been unable to secure the gifts that you know will satisfy the ones you love – take a moment as we draw near to Christmas to join in the celebration of God believing in you.  Take a moment right now to celebrate the fantastic, glorious, unbelievably big gift of showing up.  Let’s prepare to celebrate with as much of our hearts as we can manage to make available and then stretch to make a little more room – in our occupied, overcrowded, volatile and less than pure hearts.  Let’s invite the mystery of love and the miracle of God believing in us to find a safe place to stay.