Church of the Holy City

An Ordinary Night

An Ordinary Night
Rev. Dr. David J. Fekete
Christmas Eve, 2010

It was an ordinary night, like any night. To all appearances, it was an ordinary family, like any family. It was a humble family of the working class–of no particular distinction. Not an Emperor; not a king; not an aristocrat–not even a religious leader such as the Sadducees ot Pharisees. It was a night in an ordinary place in the remote fringes of the Roman Empire. Bethlehem was a small town of no particular distinction in the Roman Empire. Not like Rome, or Athens, or Alexandria, or Damascus, or Corinth, or Ephesus. And it was an ordinary birth, as all human babies are born. He was in many respects an ordinary baby–in need of protection, care, and suckling from His mother.
Yet to those who had eyes and ears, it was an extraordinary night. Magi from the east knew that it was an extraordinary night. These were wise men of the Zoroastrian religion, who studied the stars and saw an extraordinary star in the sky. Elizabeth and Zechariah knew that an extraordinary birth was about to take place, for they had been told so by the angel Gabriel. Ordinary shepherds on night watch also knew that it was an extraordinary birth. A whole chorus of angels had appeared to them and told them so. And His mother knew that this was an extraordinary night, and an extraordinary baby whom she had just given birth to. Her husband Joseph and she had been told so by the angel Gabriel, also.
Only to those who had eyes to see and ears to hear, was Christ’s birth anything other than ordinary. Only to those who had eyes and ears, was the birth of Christ something extraordinary. Only to those with eyes and ears, was Christ’s birth the coming of God into our material world.
Caesar Augustus knew nothing of it. None of the other petty kings and princes of the Roman city-states knew who had been born that night. King Herod, ruler of the very province of Christ’s birth, knew of Christ’s distinction only from the foreign Magi who had come from Persia to worship the baby. And Herod didn’t even know the place in his realm where this birth happened.
That’s the way God wanted it. That’s the way God is. God does not appear to anyone in the clouds of glory, descending from the sky for the whole world to see. God doesn’t force Himself on anyone. Rather, God invites us quietly to come to Him. And there is no more powerful way to call forth a loving response than to come to us as a baby. It is a baby’s unique power to calm, to soften, to stir the heart, and to call forth love. A holy awe surrounds all babies. And baby Jesus was no different in this respect.
But Jesus’ soul was God Himself. Although born of a human mother, Jesus’ origins were from on high. The angel Gabriel tells Mary that, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” Mary was carrying in her womb God incarnate, God who had taken on human flesh. This means that love itself had become human; love itself had taken on a material body. The source of all innocence was now an innocent baby. Innocence itself had become human, had taken on human flesh. Can we imagine what it must have felt like to be in the presence of that baby! To those who could feel, there would be no mistaking what child had been born to Mary.
Things are not all that different today. When we come to God today, it is in the midst of our ordinary lives. The world doesn’t stop; the heavens don’t open; God doesn’t appear in the clouds of glory. Rather, like that ordinary birth 2,000 years ago, God comes to us in the midst of our ordinary worldly affairs. It is we who must pause in our ordinary lives; it is we who must open our eyes; it is we who must seek the Christ as we go about our lives in this world. If we don’t seek that star; if we don’t hear the angels; if we don’t pause in the presence of that holy innocence, we will not find the Christ–just as the whole Roman Empire knew nothing of that extraordinary night and birth.
Let me illustrate this with a metaphor from this Christmas season. Like a lot of us, I rush around the stores looking for the Christmas gifts I want to buy for my loved ones. I dodge the crowds, and wait for cashiers–and I admit it, sometimes I wait impatiently. In the middle of all this, there are those baby strollers. As I hurry down the aisles of the shopping malls, there are those strollers in my way. Sometimes I dodge around them without breaking stride. Then, though, there are other times. There are times when I slow my pace; I look in the stroller; and I gaze on that baby’s face, bundled up in winter clothes. I look at the parents who are trying to shop while pushing around their precious baby. This is a time to stop and wonder at the mystery of birth and the innocence from which we have all started our lives. It is a holy moment in the midst of our ordinary lives.
More and more it seems that in society today people are working longer hours and more days. Just to make ends meet, we can take on extra work, or work longer shifts. Our free time is being squeezed out by the demands of this world. But we can never do without a place for God in our lives. It may not mean coming to church on Sunday morning. But somewhere, at some time, we need to open up to God. Just as He came to earth quietly, God will not impose Himself on us. God quietly knocks at the door; we must open it.
If our eyes remain closed, we will never see the wondrous Divine-Human who came to earth 2,000 years ago. But if we are like the shepherds; if we are like the Magi; if we are like Zechariah and Elizabeth, then we will see with wonder that glorious birth that happened 2,000 years ago. Christ will be in our lives and live in our hearts. Christmas time will remind us of the joy of our Savior who entered into our world so long ago and remains with us today. And in the ordinary affairs of our ordinary lives, an extraordinary miracle will transpire. Christ will be born within us.