Pondering Joy
A Sermon by Lanny Peters
Pastor, Oakhurst Baptist Church
Christmas Sunday
December 25, 2005
Luke 2: 8-20
John 1: 1-14
Luke’s Christmas story is full of moments of pure joy. When the old and pregnant Elizabeth greets the young and pregnant Mary, Elizabeth exclaims, “For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy.” (Luke 1:44) When the angels appear to the shepherds, they say, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.” (Luke 2:10) The shepherds came with haste and found Mary and Joseph and told them what the angels had said with great joy. And Mary held her little bundle of joy and treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.
This is the season for those of us in the church, Christ's body, to treasure and ponder joy. Suddenly, the competition with our culture is over. The radio channels, at least three of which dedicated all their programming for the last month to Christmas music, have moved on to other commercial endeavors.
But here is our secret. Today Christmas begins. Advent, the season of waiting and anticipation, is over. (Apparently, it’s a secret even from some churches who did not meet today.) We now have twelve days of Christmas to enjoy. To “in-joy” the true meaning and mystery that “John proclaims in his Christmas story: “And the word became flesh and dwelled among us….full of grace and truth.” (John 1: 14)
If you are like me, it is all too easy to ponder things like disappointment and hurt and anger and resentment. This is why I need a season for pondering joy, to hold joy in my heart. One way to do that is be remembering and being grateful for joyful times. As I was growing up, Christmas was almost always a joyful time. I look back on it with different eyes now that I realize the sacrifices my parents made to try to make it as merry as possible. But one of the great things about Christmas in the mill community where I grew up was that it was not so important what you got individually as what you received collectively. After you had looked under the tree and opened presents and played some with your toys, after a while you ventured out to see what everyone else had received. I remember the year Perry got a basketball goal and a gang of us played all afternoon. Marshall got a cool board game and we had a great time with that. Randy got a new bike and everyone got a turn to ride it.
To those whom much was given, much was expected. A big part of what made Christmas so joyful was that it was not about what I got but what we got. There was a spirit of sharing and belonging on that day that was more important than the gifts themselves.
That is not to say that there were not arguments and fights. One year, I got a football game with two teams of these little metal men that you lined up in formations against each other and then turned on a little motor which made the whole board vibrate causing the little men to run into each other and then randomly run around the board. It was lower tech than kids today can possibly imagine but it was still a lot of fun. That same year, my brother Jerry got a BB gun. There was another gift, exactly what I cannot recall, that was disputed that year. My brother and I both each swore it had our name on it when we looked under the tree. Figuring possession was 9/10ths of the law, I grabbed it and ran out the door. Jerry grabbed his BB gun and came after me. When I looked back, he was taking careful aim and I ran faster. But suddenly, I was stung on the back of my neck with a severe pain and feel down screaming. My mother had seen all this developing but was not fast enough to prevent it. Instead, she came out on the porch with a hammer. She took the gun from Jerry’s hand and with one strong hit, she whacked off the part of the gun that held the BBs. After that, you could only hold it and pretend to shoot. I used to laugh and say to Jerry, “Ha, you only got one shot with that BB gun.” But to this day, he says it was worth it.
At a sad occasion, this week, I listened to the words from the journal of a young man remembering times when he and his four siblings played and fought. He was Isaac, the twenty-seven year old son of Jim Walker and his ex-wife Sharon. After many years of being tormented by voices inside his head, Isaac finally quieted them by killing himself. At the funeral, his brother Adam read some of his poetry, which is full of darkness and light battling for dominion in his life. There was a time of sharing memories and Jim shared a story from when Isaac was about five years old. The family was making a videotape of the five children to send to the grandparents for Christmas. Isaac was so full of joy that he was literally bouncing as he wished his grandparents a Merry Christmas. As the other children took their turn, you could see Isaac still bouncing in the background. This image of his bouncing baby boy helps sustain Jim in his enormous loss.
Another story came to mind as I reflected on finding joy even in the midst of suffering. It was Dave Hilton’s story in the Oakhurst Advent Meditations, all of which have so enriched our lives over the last weeks of preparing for this day. Even if you read it already, I am sure you will appreciate hearing Dave tell it in person. I asked him if he would because it fits so well this theme of pondering joy.
A Song in the Nigerian Night
Dave Hilton
Some of my most memorable Christmases took place in remote rural Nigeria where we lived in the 1960s and 70s and where most celebrants were first generation Christians. Festivities began on Christmas Eve, not with decorating evergreen trees or exchanging presents, but with each of many congregations singing and line dancing from village to village witnessing to what the birth of Christ meant in their lives. Our house was on a hill where we could hear the singing and drumming all night long. Each year at some point we could hear at least one group getting closer and closer until they arrived at our house, usually in the middle of the night.
One year a group came from the village of Nain, about ten miles from us, which is populated by about a hundred people with leprosy, all my patients. On arriving the parade quickly formed a circle on the patio and continued dancing and singing songs of joy as we joined them in our bathrobes. In the dim light of a few kerosene lanterns we could see the missing fingers and toes and grotesque faces of leprosy.
Most evident, however, was the joy of Christmas enthusiastically expressed in the merry making. Pastor Yakub was leading the singing, waving his fingerless stubby hands in the air and keeping time in a fancy two-step with his toeless stumpy feet. His wide grin revealed his only two teeth as well as his joy at the coming of Christ. His raspy voice would call out a line of lyric in the Hausa language and the whole group would repeat with great fervor.
Shehunan gabas suna murna,
(The wise men were joyful)
mu ma za mu bi su da murna.
(Us? We are full of joy too.)
Tamrarona sama yana murna,
(The star in the sky was joyful)
mu ma za mu bi su da murna.
(Us? We will be joyful too)
Mala’ikan sama suna murna,
(The angels were joyful)
mu ma za mu bi su da murna.
(Us? We are joyful too.)
Makiyin fili suna murna,
(The shepherds were joyful)
mu ma za mu bi su da murna.
(Us? We are full of joy too)
After a half hour of singing, individuals began to tell, many with tears, of their gratitude that Jesus brought not only medicine to arrest their leprosy but good news for their souls as well. While we distributed hot chocolate to all I thought, “I came as a missionary to tell people about the joy of knowing Christ but they have taught me how great that joy can be.” I hope I will never forget. (Dave Hilton)
Today we celebrate with joy the birth of Immanuel, God with us. We celebrate with joy that “the word became flesh and dwelled among us….full of grace and truth.” Hold on to this; ponder God’s bundle of joy born for us and with us. Joy has the last word. Joy to the world, the Lord is born.
Benediction: A poem by Susan Virginia Hull
Rejoice over everything.
Exult. Exhilarate.
Be glad. Be delighted, elated,
And bowled over with joy!
Frolic Freely, hop, hope,
Dance on the dare, cheer,
Champion the little ones.
revel in the riotous light.
Invoke God without ceasing.
Pray with passion.
Whatever you do
do not quench the Spirit.
Take care not to douse
Or to dampen the bold blaze
in your depths.
Jump into life.
Hold fast to it.
Give thanks for everything.
For everything,
Even the most misshapen
and misunderstood,
is the disguise of the divine.
From Imaging the Word, Volume 2.Susan A. Blain, editor. United Church Press