Gentle, but Insistent

The Nativity of the Lord

Christmas Eve; December 24, 2006

Luke 2:1-20 and John 1:1-5, 10-14

Most of the time, in the Bible, when God appears it is in a big way: the thunder and lightning that accompanied the cloud settling on Mt. Sinai and the cloud of glory in the Tent of Meeting in the wilderness; the fire that consumes Sodom and Gomorrah and the fire that consumes the offering Elijah put on the altar on Mt. Carmel. And the vision that Paul has on the road to Damascus is a big deal: a voice and a light that blinds him.

When are you and I most inclined to pay attention to God? We praise God’s artistry in a beautiful sunrise or sunset, or feel a religious awe when we view the Rocky Mountains. Big things, loud things, beautiful things put us in mind of God. And we stand in a good tradition. The Psalm we normally read the Sunday after Epiphany, Psalm 29, says:

The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire.

The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forest bare;

and in his temple all say, “Glory!” (Psalm 29:7, 9; NRSV)

Yet here we are, having a church service that says that the voice of the Lord doesn’t always lead to earthquakes, thunderstorms and tornadoes and people crying out, “Glory!” or perhaps, “Help!” At least once, we say, the voice of the Lord was the wail of a newborn in the night.

That voice developed over the years, of course. Eventually the voice became that of a preacher, whose best quality was his ability to tell stories. Sometimes he raised his voice and shouted, “Woe to you, Pharisees!” and “My Father’s house should be a house of prayer, but you have turned it into a den of thieves,” but more often it was a gentle voice that said, “There was a man who had two sons…” and “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” and “Little girl, I say to you, get up” and even “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” A remarkable voice, a gentle, insistent voice, it’s a voice that will not dominate you or overpower you but it is a voice that will never quite let you be.

Lately I have been thinking about the whole notion of “relationship with God.” If you pay attention at all to the words of the carols playing on the sound systems at the stores or to the things people write in the newspapers, magazines and blogs then you know what Christmas is about. This was the best way for God to reach across the gulf between us so we earth-creatures could have a relationship with God. What I yearn for you as individuals and for us as a congregation is the creativity, challenge and joy of that relationship. There are two dimensions to that relationship; though society change and the form of churches evolve and our understanding of the Bible alter and nations rise and fall, that there are two dimensions to having a relationship with God will never change.

Someone once observed, “God so loved the world that He didn’t send a committee.” “Ah,” a wise woman I knew corrected, “The One that He did send; what was the first thing He did? He formed a committee.” Christmas reminds us that God has reached across the gap and come to us in terms that we can understand, in a person we can know, in a leader whose yoke is easy and whose burden is light, because the heart of God yearns to have a relationship: with you and me as individuals, and with us as a group. You cannot have one without the other.

Relationship with God is both individual and communal; that means two pieces of good news. Relationship with God is communal, so you don’t have to go it alone. You can be strong and give someone else a shoulder to lean on or you can be weak and have someone else’s shoulder to lean on. You can sing your praise to God and not worry whether you are good or not, because there are people around you singing too. You and I have all the benefits of belonging to a community of people who are on this road of faith together.

But since relationship with God is also individual, you can be yourself about it. You don’t have to conform to someone else’s image of you; you can ask your questions and you can express your feelings and ideas. The voice of the Lord that causes the oaks to whirl and that cries for Mother’s milk in the night is a gentle, insistent voice in your mind and heart that says, “I did this for you; for all of you together and for you as an individual.”

I speak from experience, of course. As I say, I’ve been thinking a lot about relationship with God lately, not only because of my concern for you but also because of my own relationship with God. Sometimes God feels very close, sometimes distant; often there is no particular feeling at all. God gives me the strong sense nevertheless that my life is a story that God and I are writing together and the congregation I am a part of, whether as the pastor or as one of the faithful, strongly shapes the character of that story.

Remember that tonight’s celebration is part of the story of the voice of the Lord, a gentle, but insistent voice that we hear tonight as the wail of a newborn and will hear in so many other forms in days and years to come. Your life is a sacred story that God and you and the congregation of the faithful write together.

Robert A. Keefer

Westminster Presbyterian Church

Clarinda, Iowa