“The Christmas Meditation”
A sermon by the Rev. Dr. Hilary Barrett
Preached at Pleasantville UCC, December 24, 2010
Isaiah 9:1-6 & Luke 2:1-20
“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field,
keeping watch over their flock by night.”
(Luke 2:8)

My father loved the night sky.  He had a great fondness for the stars.  I think he fancied himself a bit of an astronomer, really.  His most-prized possession was a big, white, telescope -- over 3 feet in length and mounted on a tripod.  It sat in our living room in front of the picture window overlooking the San Francisco Bay. 

Try as I might, I could never figure out how to adjust that thing.  The only thing I could manage to see in it was the reflection of my own eyeball.  But I couldn’t stand to disappoint my Dad.  So when he said, “Do you see it now?” I’d just say, “Oh yeah, Dad!  Now I see it!”

Dad was always trying to get us kids to pay attention to the heavens too.  He kept buying us these star charts -- those laminated plastic disks that rotate around on a central pin.  If you played your cards right, those things could show you which constellations were visible in the sky during any particular month. 

I couldn’t figure them out, either.

If there was lunar eclipse, Dad would rouse us all out of bed and onto the front lawn in our pajamas so we wouldn’t miss the fuss.  If there was a solar eclipse, he’d build a pin-hole camera out of a cardboard box so we could watch it without hurting our eyes. 

Shooting stars, passing comets, eclipses of all kinds no matter how big or small and the changing shape of the moon itself – all were of great fascination to my father. 

For all that I did not understand about astronomy, there is one thing that I did know about the night sky: it was full of wonder.  If nothing else, my Dad was able to teach me that.

Whether we understand them or not, the heavens are full of wonder, awe, and praise.

The psalmist declared:
“The heavens are telling the glory of God.”[1]

Luke, put it this way:

“And suddenly
there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host
 praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

This is a night of wonder; a night where stars and heavenly portents feature prominently in the story of a child’s birth.  Two thousand years ago, wise men from the East noticed a star at its rising, and embarked upon a journey.  Two thousand years ago, guided by the light of a star, these wise and faithful ones set out on a pilgrimage, acting in faith that their time of searching would not be in vain.

And they weren’t the only ones paying attention to the sky.

And there were in the same country
shepherds abiding in the field,
keeping watch over their flock by night.

There have always been those who have paid attention to the stars; folks for whom the night sky was no stranger. 

There have always been those working the night shift; those charged with spending their nights under the heavens. 

Shooting stars, the odd passing comet, the phases of the moon and the rare lunar eclipse – all these things would have been part of their experience as well. 

They knew what the stars looked like in winter.  They knew what they looked like in spring.  They knew when something was different and they were paying attention when suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared, bearing good news of great joy for all people.

It was not so for everyone –not everybody was paying attention.  Just a stones throw away there was a town full of people so preoccupied with other things that they missed the birth altogether.  But there, in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night, there was this group of guys who were looking up, and because they were, they saw it all clearly.

It’s rare, these days -- this looking up into the heavens.  Our preoccupation with computer screens and cell phones and Fox News Alerts captivates our attention and our eyes are not drawn to the heavens in the same way that theirs were.

We can become so busy; so focused on ourselves; so troubled by the darkness in our world, that it’s easy to miss the light.  It’s easy to miss the signs of hope and beauty around us.  It’s easy to miss the glory of the Lord when it unfolds before us.

But this is a night that asks us again to gaze at the heavens.  It’s a night that asks us to listen for the voices of angels.  This is a night that asks us to look up and shake off our drowsy sleep and our preoccupations; to lay aside our cares and our sorrows and our worldly frettings. 

This is a night to set aside our presuppositions about the way the world works and the things we believe can never be different. 

This is a night to look at the heavens again and to hear them proclaim:

Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace,
good will toward men.

That same canopy of stars that my father loved was the canopy those shepherds knew while they were keeping watch over their flocks by night.  When the Light of World came down out of heaven, they didn’t miss it, because they were looking in the right direction.

This past Tuesday morning, at 2:38 a.m., our son, Sam, and his friend, Derick, woke my husband and I up so we could go outside with them and watch the lunar eclipse. 

Conditions were perfect: a full moon; a crystal clear winter sky; the first total lunar eclipse coinciding with the Winter Solstice since 1638. 

We dragged the porch chairs onto the lawn, wrapped ourselves in coats and blankets, and gazed with awe and wonder at the astonishing view. 

My Dad would have been proud.

There are a lot of things I don’t understand about astronomy.  A lot more things I don’t understand about this world.

But one thing I do understand: the heavens are indeed telling the glory of God and the Light still shines in the darkness.

And it came to pass,
as the angels were gone away from them into heaven,
the shepherds said to one another,
Let us now go even unto Bethlehem,
and see this thing which is come to pass,
which the Lord hath made known unto us.

My friends, tonight the Word will become flesh, and it will come to dwell among us, full of grace and truth.  Let’s be sure that we’re looking in the right direction, so that we can see it when it does.

Thanks be to God!  Alleluia!  Amen.