And the People Were Filled with Expectations

My first call as a senior pastor began in Salem Oregon, and I suppose it went about as well as could be expected. I made a few rookie mistakes, offended several people, and two church council members resigned. But the second week was better than the first, and life was good. When summer came, my colleague, Pastor Kevin, took a call to be pastor of a small congregation in Washington State, so I was a solo pastor for the next 18 months. I can tell you that Christmas was a blur that first year. In 1988, Christmas Eve was on a Sunday, so the morning began with three worship services. After a quick lunch, I returned for three Christmas Eve services, the final one beginning at midnight. The next morning was Christmas, and that congregation had Christmas Day worship at 10AM. Thank God Pastor Bob never started a Christmas Day service in this place! I got up at 7AM and went to the only restaurant that was open; a pancake house, to prepare at least something that resembled a sermon.

Shortly after I sat down, Evelyn Torvend, the eighty-year-old church spinster sat down across from me. “Pastor Steve, you’re all alone and so am I; mind if I join you?” Yup, 1988 was the year that I decided that along about the 3^rd Sunday in Advent every year, when I became weary, like perhaps you are weary, I was going to forgo a sermon and simply share a devotional; thoughts from my heart in the middle of this bustling season, and I have done that nearly every year, including today.

By now you too have been caught up in the Christmas chaos. So have I. We’ve begun the shopping, we’ve done the decorating, if we aren’t the bakers in our homes, we at least get to participate in the clean-up. And that’s not to mention Christmas cards, Christmas programs, Christmas parties and Christmas pictures. And in the midst of it all, we’re often too overwhelmed to rest in the Christmas Story. All this business that the world calls “Christmas” has us on a treadmill like a boatload of gerbils. The expectations placed upon all of us at this time of year are enormous, and no matter who we are, we get sucked into the counterfeit version of the Savior’s birth. All of us.

In his book “Singing with the Lutherans” Garrison Keillor tells of the mission that Pastor Inkvist and Father Emil shared every Advent: the scolding of parishioners for commercialism at Christmastime. One year, around the Third Sunday in Advent, Pastor Inkvist was particularly harsh. “If you people are going to spend all your time buying and baking and partying instead of preparing for the Savior, then we’re not going to do Christmas this year. If you are so bent on the world’s idea of Christmas, then we’re just going to throw the whole thing out the window this year and not celebrate Christmas.” Pastor Inkvist was inspired! He was on a roll, and then he looked out in the congregation and spotted his seven year old son, David, with tears streaming down his cheeks. “No, Daddy, no! I’ll be good; I promise!” And right there, Pastor Inkvist rewrote his sermon, and it became a sermon about Christmas joy.

What are we to do with the expectations that the world has of us at Christmas; and how does that compare with what God wishes for us at Christmas? May I suggest to you that John the Baptist had it right? For John calls us to open up our hearts and minds to discover why Jesus came to earth in the first place. He came, not to inspect our trees, or taste our Swedish meatballs, or smell our scented candles, or witness the new Lexus in our neighbor’s driveway with a giant red bow on top. No. He came to be born in our hearts so that we don’t have to worry about measuring up to anyone’s expectations. Jesus came to be born in you. In you.

Isn’t that what we need this Christmas, more than anything else? In the midst of all the world’s bad news, the unrealistic expectations, the broken promises and shattered dreams; don’t we need to know that a Savior has been born in us? We are loved just the way we are. Weary people, a Savior has been born for you.

I know that when we sing our final song today, you will re-enter the chaos. Before you even get to the checkout line at Target or Cub, you will have forgotten my words. But would you recall the words of Edmund Sears in a carol written the same year this congregation came into being. Weary people, these words were written for you:

O you, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
painful steps and slow;
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
Oh rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing.

Relax. Be of good cheer. The Savior is coming. Thanks be to God. Amen.