The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas) – December 25, 2023

St. Paul – Lyons, KS

Waiting for a Reply

One time I was hanging out with a Vietnam veteran. His name’s Rick. And while we were hanging out, Rick told me an incredible story; loves tellin’ his war stories! He was a Marine. And one day in Vietnam he was with his platoon, and they were in a city, and they were just getting overrun. They were surrounded, outnumbered, outgunned, and they were getting overrun. 

And so Rick makes the call, several miles back to the artillery—he’s never met these guys, he just knows here’s the number for the artillery—calls them up and says, “Fire on our position. That’s where they are. Fire at us and you’ll hit them.” And they do. That’s what happened. Hellfire rains down on their position. Rick and a few other guys—luckily—they make it out alive. So this is Rick’s favorite story to tell, the day he survived that.

One day, about forty years later, Rick was working on some sort of a project and he was running into a bunch of difficulties. So he goes to yell at a contractor about certain stuff (you just gotta know Rick, kinda confrontational)—he goes to yell at a contractor. He walks into this guys office, they’re hashing it out. Nothin’ doin! Rick finally sees on this guy’s wall a picture of this guy, this contractor, and a bunch of other Marines. And so Rick goes, “Oh, so, you’re a Marine too?” And so they start sharing war stories about their time in Vietnam. 

And again, if you know Rick, you know that the one story he’s waiting to tell you is that story! Favorite story to tell! He’s like, “Ok, so one time…” and then tells him this story. And as he’s telling him this story, this contractor just starts crying, just tearing up and crying. And he said, “I remember that day like it was yesterday.” (And Rick’s thinking like, “What are you talking about? This is my story.”) This guy says, “I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was the artillery operator that day. I was the one that got your call. And that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And I never knew until today that anybody made it out alive.” That story changed that guy’s life. “I never knew that anybody made it out alive. I thought I had just killed all of my own men. I never heard back until just now.”

That guy, waiting for forty years, waiting for that reply—that guy thought he had killed everybody. He had thought about that day probably every day of his life, waiting for a reply he never thought would come. But one day, after forty years of contemplating that event—one day everything changed! And now that contractor tells the story every chance he gets.

What Are You Waiting For?

So why are you here tonight? Is it just nostalgia? Is it just a custom? Are you just trying to fulfill your “obligation” to attend Mass (so then you can get to the real fun, the stuff you’re actually looking forward to for Christmas)? All of Advent—the season of Advent (as brief as it was this year)—the season of Advent is meant to stir up within us that longing, that desire, that expectation.

For what? What are you waiting for? If you had to name it, what are you waiting for? I know how cheesy and lame it sounds for the “preacher man” to ask this question. I know how easy it is to sit there and be like, “We know, Father! We get it! We’re waiting for Jesus. Heaven! God! We know.” But that’s not a helpful answer. 

So honestly, if someone were to come up to you on the street and ask you, “Hey, what is the thing you’re waiting for? What is it you anxiously anticipate and are waiting for?”—what would you answer? A better job, better health, political fixes, the country to get better, my son to get his life together. Do you see what I mean? There are real concrete expectations and hopes we have. We are always anxiously awaiting something. That’s what it means to be a human being. We are defined by this expectation. The question is always, “What? What are you waiting for?” It’s my favorite line from St. Augustine, “Our hearts are restless!”

And here’s the thing: maybe you don’t even really know what you’re waiting for! There’s that great scene in The Incredibles where Mr. Incredible gets out of the car and turns to see this little kid on his trike, and Mr. Incredible (a little annoyed) asks him, “Well, what are you waiting for?” And the kid says, “I don’t know! Something amazing!! I guess.” 

That’s us! What are we waiting for? When we have everything, when we have nothing—what are we waiting for? What is it? “I don’t know. Something amazing, I guess.” We’re waiting for something amazing. Something to happen. Yeah, we tell ourselves we’re waiting for a new car, or our kid to turn their life around, or a phone, or money, or a job—yeah, I know! But are you sure that’s what you’re waiting for? Because that day in his office, that contractor didn’t know what he was waiting for (not really anyway)—not until it literally walked in his door.

“They people who walked in darkness have seen a great light…”

This is what the Shepherds experienced. In Israel, at the time of the birth of Jesus, there was a great hope among the people, a long-waiting, an expectation that had been growing and growing for generations. And it was a hope that the prophet Isaiah spoke of ad nauseam. He spoke of a great Light that would shine in the darkness, that would be a cause for joy, that would bring freedom from this yoke that holds us captive, and would bring peace. He “named him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace. And his reign [will be]…forever peaceful,” there will be no end of peace (Isaiah 9:5-6). The name for this person would be Maschiach and Kyrios—or as we translate those words, Christ and Lord.

Listen again to the Gospel. What happens to these shepherds? “The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was a multitude…praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace.’”

Where there was once only darkness, a light has shone. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”

This message literally walked into their front door at work one day. They were not expecting it. It was completely unforeseen, completely unexpected. If you had asked them five minutes earlier what they were waiting for, they probably would have said a falafel and Coke®. But the moment that announcement hit their ears … it all changed. Did they walk away with a falafel and Coke? Did they understand what was going on? Did it make them rich? Did it change their concrete circumstances? Was their brother still sick? Did they still have cancer? Did they still suffer from depression or anxiety? Did it take away the grief from losing their wife, or child, or grandchild? No. No. Not at all. Their circumstances remained.

And yet—and yet…when they heard this message, when they saw this child … it changed everything. Life was the same. But life would never be the same. Into their lives flowed an experience that they could never have given to themselves. An experience that could only come from another. It is the only way! By hearing a simple announcement, by seeing a real human child—from these simple events, they received something amazing.

You remember that story about Rick (hopefully, it was only 4 minutes ago)? What happened to that contractor? Did his company strike it rich? Did he get a huge, life-changing, business altering contract? No. But he did receive a simple message, he heard a simple announcement, from a real human—and from that, something amazing. That announcement, that man in front of him, it changed everything for him. He finally felt at peace.

Sacrament of Peace

Like I’ve been mentioning all Advent, the something you’re waiting for is peace. Sorry to be a Scrooge, but not your gifts, not your cookies, or the dinner, not your Hallmark movie marathon. Nope. Peace. But that’s the kicker: if we expect peace to come from all of that stuff, then we expect Jesus to be some sort of magic genie, one who brings us all of those things. But that’s not it. And deep down we know that.

Peace, true peace, the pease our restless hearts are longing for—that is given to us by Christ, and Christ alone. You’re not going to find it in Christmas traditions, and lights, and food, and Mariah Carey, and whatever else—as wonderful that those things are! No, in the most unforeseen and unforeseeable ways, he brings peace. We … well, we simply need to put ourselves in a position to receive it, to receive him. If you’re wondering how to do that, well, stick with us! We’re going to be focusing on that in this coming year.

But you can begin tonight. Even if this sounds like a big commitment, a little scary. Like the shepherds, in silence, in expectant silence—listen with new ears to that simple turn of phrase: “Do not be afraid. I proclaim to you good news of great joy. Today a savior has been born for you—for you—who is Christ and Lord.” Today, something amazing has finally happened.