“To you is born this day in the city of David a savior who is Christ the Lord” – Luke 2

My grandfather was a very frugal person. His wife, my grandmother, still is. They were Depression Era kids which meant for them saving was a way of life, and (like dancing or playing cards on the sabbath) paying full price for anything was a sin. 

But Christmas does things to people, at least it did for Pop Pop.

He would always put off his Christmas shopping until Christmas Eve. That’s how much he hated shopping. But there emerged a tradition that each year on Christmas Eve he’d head out to Tallheimer’s department store in Richmond where, back then, a live clerk would help him find what he needed and make a commission from the sale. 

One year he told the clerk in the women’s clothing section that he was shopping for his wife and asked her to show him what was in style. She brought him a very stylish, polyester knit, navy and white, six-piece, mix & match set by Act 1, for which, only moments later, he paid full price. 

When she unwrapped it Christmas morning she gasped. She ooh’d and ahh’d over all six pieces, narrating how and when and to what occasions she could wear each conceivable combination, closing her narration with “But honey, this is too much!” (which of course is Southern for “Thank you”). Only this time it turns out she was serious. 

A day or two later she brought the gift up in conversation with him, thanking him again, but then confessing that she had found the price tag in a drawer and, after seeing how much her gift cost, had a friend take her to the store that morning to return it. All six pieces. 

There is no living record of how he reacted to her confession in the moment, but what we do know is that somewhere around the fourth or fifth day of Christmas, my grandmother’s true love gave to her another giftwrapped package.

When she unwrapped it, again she gasped. It was the very same navy and white, six-piece, mix & match set, for which he had paid full price, twice.

It was a gift he seemed determined to give to her. On the paper wrapping (which she neatly folded in case she could use it later) Pop Pop had written in bold letters, “To: You.” 

To you. 

“To you is born this day in the city of David a savior who is Christ the Lord.” 

That’s what what the shepherds heard the angels announce to them, “Behold I bring you good news of great joy for all people, to you is born this day a savior.”

One can read the whole Bible as the story of God trying over and over to get this word through to us, determined to give this gift to us, to you, no matter the price. 

I know a pastor who was once a chaplain at an AIDS clinic where some of the patients lived out their final days. There were enough of them there that she started to hold regular Sunday services there at the clinic. When the time came for her to give birth to her firstborn son she had no other church into which she could baptize him, so one Sunday they brought in a beige hospital basin and did the thing right then and there in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. 

She said at her little home church it was the tradition to pass baptized babies around the congregation, so she figured that’s what she was supposed to do next, but when she brought her baby to the first congregant he threw up his hands, “Are you sure? I mean, I’m sick. Besides, no one has ever let me hold a baby.” 

“It’s safe,” she said, “I’m sure. Don’t be afraid. Besides, he belongs to Christ now, and because you all are the body of Christ that means my baby now belongs to you.” 

To you. 

“To you is born this day in the city of David a savior who is Christ the Lord.” 

This is what was proclaimed to the shepherds! Dirty, smelly, disease-laden, potty-mouthed shepherds, in a po-dunk town, packed with peasants, among them a poor immigrant couple giving birth to a baby in a barn. None of this, none of them are fit for a king, let alone a baby God!

And neither are we.

I’m a father of three. Have been for years now, and I’m still not sure I’m fit to hold a baby, or hold anyone’s life in my hands. But nevertheless, the Gift given tonight is not given based on our fitness to receive it, but because of our faults, our shepherdly foulness. This is why the Mystery became Material, for us and for our salvation. God has come, risking it all, to give himself to us. To me. To you.

There were these two women, one older, the other younger. They met in the kitchen at church because they both liked to cook. The older woman was a widow who coped with her grief by spending virtually all her time volunteering at church. She noticed one Sunday that her young kitchen companion hadn’t been to worship in a number of weeks, so she called her. 

She learned that the young woman’s mother had died about a month ago. She had tried to come back to church but it was just too hard. “It hurts too much,” the younger woman said, “and besides, I’m not sure I can believe any of that stuff anymore.” 

The next week was Christmas Eve at their church, and late in the evening the young woman heard a loud knock at her door. She opened it up and her older friend burst right in carrying a covered dish in one hand and a bottle of champagne and a cookie tin in the other. She said, “I went to all three services tonight and you weren’t at a single one of them, so I decided if it was too hard for you to come to church on Christmas, I’ll just bring Christmas right here… to you.” 

To you. 

To you is born this day a savior who is Christ the Lord. 

To you widows, widowers
To you orphans, parents
To you children, and teenagers
To you empty nesters, and loners

To you who haven’t seen your kids in years
To you who haven’t called home in a while

To you alcoholics and addicts
To you perfectionists and over achievers

To you sinners who know you’re not worthy of such a gift
To you saints who know you’re really just sinners 

To you who got dragged here tonight against your will
To you who wouldn’t miss this night for the world

To you who just aren’t sure you can believe any of this 
To you who know you can’t possibly go on believing anything but this.

To you, whoever you are, or aren’t, whoever you used to be, or may one day become
To you, wherever you’ve been, whatever you’ve done, whatever you’ve left undone
To you, the you you really are.

Just for a moment, don’t try to be anyone else. Just be who you are, all that you are, just as you are, before God.  

To you is born this day in the city of David a savior
Your savior
who is Jesus Christ,
Born a child, and yet a king
Born to set all people free
He lived
He laughed
He loved
He cried
He ate
He drank
He served
He healed
He paid full price
He commanded our best
He accepted our worst
He suffered
He died
And yet he is alive forever more. 

Behold, I bring good news, of great joy, for all people.
To you is born this day a savior who was, and is, and ever shall be,
Christ the Lord. 

Thanks be to God.