Candlelight Sermon: "Christmas Hope"

Stephen Baldwin

NT: Luke 1.46-55

Christmas Hope

            I recently discovered that I’ve been doing something wrong for years.  Talk about humiliating.  Do you know that feeling? 

I’ve always opened a banana from the stem end.  That usually works.  But sometimes it’s a struggle, and sometimes the stem breaks.  You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?  This week I learned that monkeys peel bananas from the other end.  They just pinch, and the skin opens right up.  So I tried it, and it works like a charm!  Easy as pie.  I’ve been doing it wrong for years, and it took a monkey to teach me the right way to do it! 

            As I fiddled around in the kitchen after learning that new trick, I wondered what else I have unknowingly done wrong for years?  Then a segment came on the radio with people sharing their hopes for Christmas this year.  They “hoped” for all kinds of things.  Kids hope their parents didn’t lose their Christmas lists.  Parents hope their kids behave at family gatherings & church services.  People hope their dogs will sleep in on Christmas morning.  We all hope it will snow on Christmas.  Grandma hopes her turkey won’t get overdone.  And, in sum, that was the answer to my question. 

What else have we been doing wrong all these years?  Hope.  We have Christmas hope backwards. 

            Think about it.  Where does that kind of wishin’ and hopin’ get us?  It will not snow this Christmas, no matter how hard we wish.  Our dogs will wake us up as usual.  The kids won’t be able to sleep.  Parents will forget that one little gift that turns out to be the one the kids wanted most.  The turkey will be overdone. 

The things we say we “hope” for are usually the last things to happen.  Because we only “hope” for something when we think we have zero options left and our only shot is a Hail Mary.  That’s not how hope works.  Hope is much, much more than wishful thinking. 

            This morning, I made an elaborate argument about it feeling like somebody stole Christmas.  That’s because our culture and even many inside the church have relatively little insight into the theological meaning of Christmas.  Just because it’s about an infant doesn’t mean our understanding of it has to be infantile.  So…why do we celebrate Christmas?  Because it’s Jesus’ birthday.  Yes, but why does Jesus’ birthday matter?  Because he is our Lord and Savior.  Yes, but what does it mean to claim his name?  To live in hope. 

            The great American preacher William Sloane Coffin says, “Hope is a state of mind independent of the state of the world.”  Say that with me.  Hope is a state of mind…independent…of the state of the world. 

In the face of tragedy and violence, hope is here.  In the wake of terror and doubt, hope is here.  In the midst of confrontation and consternation, hope is here.  We have hope no matter the waters that rage around us because we have faith. 

            Whereas wishful thinking is passive, thinking that something good may happen if we’re lucky, Christian hope is active.  We make something good happen, even out of something bad, because we know God has good plans for all of us.  THAT is Christmas hope.   

No better example exists than Mary, mother of Jesus, whose story we just read here tonight.  We all know the seriousness of her plight--young and pregnant.  Poor and penniless.  Shamed and ridiculed.  Can we even begin to imagine what if must have felt like to be a pregnant teenager, promised to a man she barely knew, visited by an angel wanting her to do something unspeakable…for God?  Frightened probably doesn’t begin to describe what it must have felt like.  According to Luke, she doesn’t tell anyone.  Who could blame her?  What would she say that someone would actually believe?  Mary, Mary, Mary.   

Yet, in the face of all that adversity, she is full of hope.  Why was Mary so full of hope when she spoke to her baby those beautiful words we just read?  How was she able to endure the difficulty of being a young, unwed, pregnant teenager? 

Perhaps because she believed the angel, who told her that she would give birth to the Son of God.  Only the innocence of youth would be joyous at that prospect.  Or, perhaps because Mary was a faithful woman who knew the prophecies written by Isaiah and believed she had a part in them.  Or finally, perhaps she was a hopeful woman who believed, even in the face of all evidence to the contrary, that God works good purposes out in this world through faithful, hopeful people. 

Hope is something we do, and Mary was full of hopeful action.  You could say Mary made the best of a bad situation, but Mary did one better.  Mary held out hope. 

If you find yourself wishin’ and hopin’, do what Mary did to find Christmas hope.  She visited her cousin Elizabeth.  She sought counsel.  She acted a friend.  She asked questions.  She availed herself to the Holy Spirit.  She trusted those around her.  She watched for signs.  She rejoiced in small moments of beauty.  She refused to become a victim of her circumstance.  Instead, she embraced her circumstance as an opportunity to prove hope’s power. 

I know it’s hard to be optimistic some days.  So when you can’t be optimistic, be persistent.  A heart full of hope never gives up, for it knows that God doesn’t either.  If God was willing to come to earth in human form, born to two poor teenage refugees, then we better be persistent in our beliefs that God does not give up on us.  God does not cut corners.  God does not take the easy way.  God dives right into the ditch…with us. 

So as you unwrap presents, gather together with family, and celebrate the season, I pray you and yours uncover the most precious gift of all—Christmas hope.  Mary took a bold chance, allowing God to be born in her.  And if we allow God to be born in us, there’s no telling what good may come of it.  Amen.