First Parish Unitarian UniversalistHerald That Child
A homily by the Reverend Diane Teichert
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
Christmas Eve 2005
Earlier the choir sang, “Each night a child is born is a holy night.”
Even the night you were born.
Yes, it was a holy night, that night that you came into the world.
Hear what I say: Whether you were a love child. Whether any stars at all could be seen that night, never mind one so brilliant people could follow it to your birthplace. Whether anyone other than your mom attended your birth.
No matter the circumstances, the night of the day you were born was a holy night.
Has there ever been a night on which no child was born? In that sense, every night is holy, and every person is blessed. Blessed with being lovable.
Whatever inequalities of love or wealth ensue after birth, whether our first days were in a dresser drawer or in a Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, at birth we were all lovable. And we still are, deep inside, lovable.
Whatever ills we have suffered, whomever we have hurt, however lonely or scared we may be, each and every one of us is lovable.
If there is a specifically Unitarian Universalist message in the Christmas story, perhaps it is that. That each and every person is inherently lovable.
I find irresistible that Christmas reading by the revered Unitarian Religious Educator of the 20 th century, Sophia Lyon Fahs, now set to music in our new songbook and sung so beautifully by our choir tonight. To me, it’s an almost haunting reminder of a wonderful aspect of Christmas that often escapes my attention.
Usually, on Christmas Eve, I dwell on the social teachings of Jesus. Jesus as the non-violent leader of a Jewish insurgency. Jesus whose welcome was so wide it included the despised of his day. Jesus who said we shouldn’t worry about what we will eat or what we will wear—if the lilies of the field are so gorgeously decked out, won’t we be taken care of as well? Jesus who proclaimed it would be harder for a rich man to get into heaven than for a camel to get through the eye of a needle. Jesus who preached, “blessed are the poor, the hungry, the humble, the merciful, and the peacemakers.”
Maybe I usually dwell on the social teachings of Jesus because they contrast so effectively with our outrageous commercialization of the holiday that purports to celebrate his birth.
Which reminds me. Maybe you heard the joke about why a lot of the huge evangelical Christian churches are closed tomorrow, on Christmas Day, even though it’s Sunday? Answer: because the stores are closed.
Do Americans stay home only if we can’t go shopping??
Each night a child is born is a holy night. Even the night you were born. Especially the night you were born.
At my house this year, the first Christmas card to arrive in the mail made me, not merry, but very sad. It showed a peacefully-sleeping, beautiful little baby, cradled in blankets and nestled in a manger filled with straw, with a sweet lamb curled up beside the manger and a star shining through a window in the wall behind the manger.
What is more peaceful than an infant asleep? Nothing, as any new parent, or the big brother or sister who’s getting tired of all that crying, can attest.
So, what was sad about this Christmas card? On the front it said, “He came to pay a debt He didn’t owe… because we owed a debt we couldn’t pay.” Am I responsible for the death, thirty some years later, of the man this babe became? NO! What kind of a parent, divine or otherwise, brings a child into the world only to call for his death? Such a cruel and violent God is not the God we worship in this house of worship, by whatsoever name we worship. Vicarious atonement may be a teaching of Christian doctrine for some, but it does not square with the teachings of Jesus we try to follow.
These days, what it means to be a Christian is a matter of public dispute. I would never have expected to quote the Catholic Mayor of Boston on Christmas Eve….!
But Mayor Thomas Menino got my vote as a religious leader when he said at the annual Catholic Charities Christmas fundraising dinner this month,
… what moves me most about being a Christian is what Jesus taught us about being religious. He did not give priority to piety. He didn't make holiness the big thing. And he did not tell us to go around talking up God, either.
What Jesus said, and what he showed with his life, was that the way to follow him was to take care of people. He told us in the Gospel of Matthew -- the hungry, the naked, the homeless, the sick, and yes, the imprisoned.
“How much clearer could the Lord have made it?” asked the Mayor of Boston.
The hungry, the naked, the homeless, the sick, and, yes, the imprisoned were born on holy nights, just as we were. We all started out lovable, and still are lovable—even those of us who have to work hard at it, and especially those who must work at even believing we are lovable!
And, we’re all capable of loving, even if we have to work at that, too!
Jesus said, “love your neighbors as yourselves.” We start with loving ourselves.
So, in a few moments, when we sing “Silent Night,” maybe we could put a new spin on it and sing also about the silent night, holy night each of us was born, and all the silent, holy nights that anyone was born.
While we herald the birth of the baby Jesus, it is as if we herald our own births, and that of everyone who is, ever was or ever will be. Every human starts out lovable, including us. Being lovable, we love others—our neighbors as our selves.
Amen, and so may it be.