Thursday, December 17, 2009

Christmas Eve homily

This is my Christmas Eve homily, that I might tweak (or might not): I offer it early as part of your preparation time for the holiday.


This year at our house and in our family, we've tried to cut down on gift buying. We've tried to start teaching the grandchildren that you don't have to have everything in the world bought for you or brought to you by Santa.

The first step in that process is to be taught to not ask for everything.

That's the most difficult of projects.

Tonight as we prepare for tomorrow's celebration of the birth of Christ, we need to take a moment to ask ourselves this:

What do we truly want for Christmas this year?

As we've heard in the readings of the scripture story of the birth of our Lord, Mary wanted nothing more than to have the child and it be born healthy. There is no mention of her wanting him to have a college fund or have the best of cribs or the best of strollers. She was happy with a manager and a place to lay her head after the exertion of giving birth.

Joseph wanted nothing more than the health of his wife and child. There's no mention of recliners or big screen tvs. This is a man without a job, apparently, able to take off and journey for a good period of time to a town he had no place to stay in, no relatives to visit, no friends to give him, them a bedroom.

What do you want this Christmas?

The Bible says this: Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

The Father knows what you need before you ask him. Think about that for just a minute before we continue. God knows what you need. Therefore the time you've spent telling him could be time spent asking for others. Just a thought.

Furthermore, the Bible says "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.

Okay, we figure God knows what we need, but somehow we all figure that somehow he doesn't know what we WANT for we help him.

We bring out our lists nearly every night and we help HIM.

Lord, help my children and my grandchildren and Lord, I'd love to have a new job or a new car or a new house or a new this and that.

This night, as the lights look so lovely and the fires burn in homes across the area and we put our children to bed early so that Santa can bring what they have asked for, what they wanted, let our wants and wishes drift up to heaven.

Tonight, All I want for Christmas is a Super Bowl win for the Saints. You can keep your coats and your sweaters and your ties. All I want is an impossible, obviously once in a lifetime Saints victory in the Super Bowl.

Why?

Because it's impossible. Because I've wanted it so long. Because I do nothing about it but watch.
It's like having peace on earth and good will toward men. Wasn't that what we were promised by the angels all those years ago. How's that working out? Seen any peace lately?

No, thought not.

So is that your wish this Christmas? For peace?

Then I'll go along with you. I want peace, too. I want us out of Iraq and out of Afghanistan and out of the oil business and out of the drug wars. I want fathers and mothers away in foreign lands to return home to put their little boys and girls into bed and pull the covers up and kiss their warm faces good night.

I want all addicts off their addictions. I want cancer eradicated in my lifetime. I want a cure for AIDS. I want all of us to live out our lives without pain or heartache.

I want to know that pets join us in heaven.

I want their unconditional love for us to be our unconditional love for each other.

I want smiles to replace frowns, daily.

I want joy to come like spring rain, and love to carry the day.

I want what Joseph wanted, for children to grow up and change the world. There's still time with mine. There's plenty of time for my grandchildren.

I want special needs children to get special attention.

I want credit cards and credit card companies to go the way of the edisel.

I want loneliness to be replaced by sharing and heartlessness to be replace by caring and faithlessness to be replaced by daring faith.

I want everyone I know and everyone I care about and everyone I come in contact with that I don't know and haven't learned to care about to know the love of Jesus. If they did and they do, there will indeed be peace on earth and goodwill toward men.

Tonight, as we leave here, let us think not about the darkness of the world that seems to be winning. Let us think not about how the role models we picked out as perfect, like Tiger Woods among others, are so imperfect and ultimately unrewarding. Let us think not about the worthless and meaningless deaths many have had in 2009. Let us think not about how our needs have grown this year without help of our own.

Instead, let of think of our wants, the wants that God already knows about, the wants that we didn't have to list, the wants that no Santa could ever provide, the wants that cover us like a new jacket and a new hat and new gloves and new pants and new socks and new shoes.

The wants that are greater than aching bones and muscles that don't work like they once did without pain and without ultimate sorrow.

I want Jesus to return in my lifetime. Which supersedes all other wants this long, dark night. I want to look into that pink sky some evening and see the strangest sight: something, someone coming in the sky, something small growing by the minute, by the second. Someone walking in the air. And suddenly we will begin to rise, and suddenly we will begin to go airborne.

And all this stuff that we asked our loved ones for, or we asked Santa for or we simply wished for will be so meaningless I can't even write it.

I want Jesus.

Tonight, on Christmas Eve, that's enough. Isn't it?

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