Light Before Christmas

Text: Matthew 1:18-25
Other texts: Isaiah 7:10-16

As signs go, it was not much.

A child born of a young woman. As if that didn’t happen every day. A son, too. Odds of that happening were what: one out of two? Not exactly improbable. And his name was Immanuel.

Ahaz, king of Judah, was not looking for a sign. So he said. I’m not going to ask for any old sign, so said Ahaz. I would not ask for a sign from God, he says. Yet even so, he gets a sign. And he welcomes the sign. Ahaz is in a little trouble politically and militarily. He is concerned about an alliance from the north. And the sign of Immanuel points to good news in the end. The king has nothing to fear from his enemies. At least in the short term.

The birth of Jesus is as much a sign as an event. It is a sign of things to come, a sign of God’s eagerness to be part of the world, a sign of God’s hopes and plans.

When we recall the story of the birth of Jesus, we mostly remember the story from the Gospel of Luke (and we’ll hear that version tomorrow, Christmas Eve). But in this year and on this day, still in Advent, we hear the version from Matthew. (There is no birth story in Mark or John, which is interesting in itself.)

In Matthew, the birth of Jesus is a grammatical afterthought. If it portends great things, it is not very portentous. It is in a subordinate clause in a sentence that refers to what Joseph is doing, and in fact the whole passage is mostly about Joseph. Joseph is going to treat Mary honorably, Joseph has a dream, Joseph is comforted by the angel, Joseph is the son of the line of David, Joseph names his son Jesus. “Joseph had no martial relations with Mary until she had borne a son,” it says. That’s the birth story of Jesus in Matthew.

For Luke, the birth of Jesus is a performance. Very suitable to Christmas pageants. For Matthew, the birth is a sign. In Luke, Jesus is welcomed by shepherds and priests. But in Matthew, Jesus and his family have to flee in fear to Egypt to escape from evil King Herod. In Luke, Herod is not part of Jesus birth story at all. But in Matthew, Herod reads the signs. Herod knows that the birth of Jesus is a sign of a new world order, a sign that the days of Herod and his type and his cronies are numbered.

We, like those who lived in the time of Jesus, like people of every time and place, walk in worry and apprehension. Times are dark. We walk in darkness. We look for a sign that the future will not be the same as the past. We hardly know where we are, we cannot see where we are going, and do not know how get there. We look for a light to give us direction and also to illuminate the path ahead so that we do not stumble. We look for light at the end of the tunnel and also the light inside the tunnel, where we are walking.

At Christmas, we proclaim that Jesus is that light. I am the light, Jesus says. In Baptism, like the Baptism of Alec today, we pray that the light of Jesus shines in us so that other people might see it. May your light so shine, we said to Alec, that others may see.

Here in worship the light signs are everywhere. Santa Lucia is a celebration of light, Lucy walks with candles in her crown, we give a lighted candle to Alec (or to his responsible adults; he’s a little small yet), we light all four candles on the Advent wreath, we light all these [aisle] candles.

We are not quite at Christmas, in spite of the poinsettias and tree and this teaser Gospel story. We are still in Advent. And Advent is more than anything a time of looking. Looking hard, at ourselves and the world and God’s promises. At the beginning of Advent, looking back. And now, almost at the end, looking forward. We are tired of dark days and dark times. We look hard to find the light. Unlike Ahaz, we are looking for a sign, looking hard.

In both Luke and Matthew the birth of Jesus is a sign. In Luke it is a sign like a big billboard, something broadcast by Clear Channel Communications. In Matthew, the birth of Jesus is like a street sign in Boston, hardly visible.

But in both stories, the sign is there: Jesus is coming to change the world. Watch out, world. Watch out. The message of Advent is this: The days of the ways of darkness are numbered. There is a new way to be. Jesus shows us. The light shines. The light shines and the darkness will not overcome it.