GETTING REAL

Scripture Reading: John 1:14

A couple years ago some dear friends took us to see the big, fancy Christmas pageant at a nearby mega-church. We sat in the huge 3000 seat auditorium. There was a full orchestra and choir, a fully-costumed cast of around 100, beautiful sets and props, wonderful lighting. This side of Branson, Missouri, this was just about the grandest Christmas pageant one could imagine. The centerpiece of the program was when a live nativity scene entered and then posed up on the stage. There were five cameras videotaping the production for broadcast and on the video screen, we could see that Jesus was played by a real baby. More than a few of us teared up when that beautiful, innocent baby took its place in the manger. It was a perfectly touching moment in an absolutely perfect production. Then the baby began to cry.

And it only began as a cry. It soon flowered into a full-blown, red-faced, fists and feet shaking temper tantrum. After a few minutes of this the sound technicians figured out what was going on. Those microphones that had been activated to pick up the gentle cooing of the child but instead had been blasted by the kid’s howls, were turned all the way down. The camera operators took longer to react. For a minute or two the silent image of this furious baby continued to be projected onto a 40 feet screen. Then finally the cameras turned away to show us the choir, the orchestra, the actors, ANYTHING EXCEPT THE BABY.

But even from where we sat in the cheap seats, even over the blaring noise of the musicians, even over the dazzling sight of the costumes and lights, we could hear and see the crying and frustrated baby. And all of us, each one of the three thousand people who were there, directed the same thought at the actors portraying Mary and Joseph: “Comfort the child. COMFORT THE BABY!”

But they didn’t. They didn’t know how. They were only actors. Mary followed her script and held up the baby while lifting her eyes to heaven and assuming a beatific facial expression. (Have YOU ever tried to have a beatific expression on your face while your baby was pitching a fit?) And Joseph assumed a proud and stoical expression, putting a strong and reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder. He didn’t have a clue, either. They weren’t parents. It was obvious that neither one of them had ever had a baby. They were actors, cast because

they looked the parts and could parade down the aisle without tripping over their own feet.

And this extravaganza of a Christmas pageant, the lights and costumes, the choirs and orchestra, was thereby ruined because it was exposed as a fake, a piece of theatre, a dumb show without reality. Most of us looked down in embarrassment and no longer listened to the glorious music. We were all thinking the same disdainful thought: Get Real!

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace of truth…” (John 1:14). The Word became flesh…

It’s a screaming thing, really, a new-born baby, given birth through the screams of its mother. It comes out more blue than pink and it’s attached to the mother by this thing that you swear to God could never occur in nature - it looks like some industrial cable formed of white and purple polymers. The mother doesn’t have a beatific expression. Her hair is plastered to her face with sweat. Her eyes are closed in exhaustion. The father isn’t stoical – he’s swaying in trauma and helplessness and seeks reassurance: is it supposed to look like that? Such an odd color, and dappled cheesy white and spots of blood… “That’s how babies look,” the doctor explains.

That’s how our Savior entered the world, God explains – not with trumpets and orchestras and eighty voice choirs and actors for parents, but with blood and sweat and fear and labor.

Not with the soft focus of sentiment, but in the sharp reality of gospel. God gets real.

I suppose we all succumb to the temptation of making a pageant out of Christmas, a show, a staged event. In our churches, in our towns, in our families… there’s nothing wrong with finding beautiful ways to remind us of Christ’s birth. But we can’t forget to get real, especially those of us who seek to follow Jesus Christ.

You see, one could describe Christianity as a simple message of love and human solidarity, of freedom and God’s eternal promises. And, you know, other religions, maybe even most other religions, could be described in the same way. We share noble sentiments. What is unique to Christianity is not the words we use. It is the Word made flesh – a Jewish boy child, born of poor parents, who had a brief ministry and was unjustly tried and executed. And somehow, somehow in his very real life, death, and resurrection, a marvelous revelation of who God is and what we should try to be occurred. It didn’t happen in the noble sentiments. It happened in the very real life of a very real human being.

That’s the gospel. That’s Christmas. When God gets real.

And because God has gotten real, Christmas calls you to get real, too. Don’t simply dress in your best clothes but put on your best behavior as well. Don’t simply exchange gifts, exchange love. Don’t just sing about the Prince of Peace, work for peace as if you serve a Prince, a God who is worth your best efforts. Get real.

Back in 1994, two Americans, at the invitation of the Russian government, were teaching around the country. On Christmas Day, they found themselves in a Russian orphanage of about 100 boys and girls, children who had been abandoned, abused and left in the care of a government-run program. Probably it was similar to the orphanage in Kurgan, Siberia that our congregation helps to support. From the mouths of these two American teachers these orphans heard, for the first time, the story of Christmas. They had no orchestra, no actors, no trappings, no pageantry. They had only the simple story.

"We told them about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem," said one of the men. "Finding no room in the inn, the couple went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger. Throughout the story, the children and orphanage staff sat in amazement as they listened. Some sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every word.

"Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude manger. (Then) each child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins… the children tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the manger for straw. Small squares of flannel… were used for the baby's blanket. And a doll-like baby was cut from tan felt…

"The orphans were busy assembling their mangers as I walked among them to see if they needed any help. All went well until I got to one table where little Misha sat - he looked to be about 6 years old and had finished his project. As I looked at the little boy's manger, I was startled to see not one, but two babies in the manger.

"… I called for the translator to ask the lad why there were two babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of him and looking at his completed manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously. For such a young boy, who had heard the Christmas story only once, he related the happenings accurately - until he came to the part where Mary put the baby Jesus in the manger.

"Then Misha started to ad lib. He made up his own ending to the story as he said, 'And when Mary laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no mamma and I have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay with him… for always.'”

For Misha, the young Russian orphan, Christmas became real. It wasn’t simply a pageant, a staged story about those people over there back then. It was a story about the here and now. It was a story about him. In Jesus Christ, God wrapped this six-year-old orphan in a loving embrace and said, “I love you. I have a place for you.”

In the Word made flesh, God has come to us where we are, God has gotten real to meet our needs, to calm our fears, to call us to new life, a life where we offer our love, offer our witness, offer our help. God has gotten real with us. Shouldn’t we get real with one another?

Sermon preached by Reverend Steve Savides at First Congregational United Church of Christ, Appleton, Wisconsin on Christmas Eve, December 24, 2007 at the 10:00 p.m. service.