A Love Song So Divine
Luke 2:1-14
Christmas Eve, December 24, 2006
A Sermon by Fr. James Haney V
It was the biggest concert in the history of Wichita, but I was not planning to go. I like the Rolling Stones. I have a number of their albums. I have several of their concerts on DVD. But I'm cheap. And the tickets were not. $60 bucks for a nosebleed seat up in the stands. Instead I spent $14 bucks on Amazon.com for a DVD of a Stones concert from 2004. I was planning to spend the night of October 1 at home watching that DVD.
But then at the last minute I got a phone call. A parishioner had been given a ticket, but wasn't feeling well and wasn't going to be able to use it. Would I want it? Oh, and by the way, it was a $350 ticket on the stadium floor, 24th row, center. In a stadium that's practically the very front.
Well, I thought about it. I had to catch a plane early the next morning. I had to be at the airport at 5:45. Did I really want to be out late the night before? So I thought about it… for about 1.2 seconds! And then I thought, "The Stones! The 24th Row! I'm there! I can sleep on the plane all the way to Connecticut."
The concert was great. 32,000 fans were into it. The seats were amazing. Usually I go to a concert and the band is about "this tall" <<about 2">>. But I was so close that the Stones looked like they were about "that" tall <<about 18">>. As their opening song said, "I know it's only rock 'n roll but I like it.
And then, in the middle of the concert, the Stones began to move to their "B" stage. For years they've had a small B-stage out in the middle of the arena. In the past they've walked out to that small stage to play a few songs. But this time, the entire middle section of the main stage drove out to the middle of the stadium while the Stones stood on it and just kept on playing. And the stage came right by me. Before the concert they had written the set list down in 1" letters on the plexiglas around Charlie's drum set. When the stage came by, I was so close that I could read the set list. It was amazing. At the moment they went by me, Mick and Keith were on the other side. But Ron Wood was on our side.
Now I'm not a huge Ron Wood fan. I liked both of his predecessors, Brian Jones and Mick Taylor, better. But at a concert like that you get caught up in the excitement. So as the stage was going by I yelled out, "We love you Ronnie." And Ron Wood lifted his hand from his guitar and went <<pointed>>. He pointed right at me. And I went "Yeah" <<wild>>.
That was my close encounter with the Rolling Stones.
It was a great concert. Pageantry. Pyrotechnics. Prancing and posturing. And edgy rock and roll. All the things the Stones are famous for.
And yet, I think, how different, how different is this night. How different is the event we're celebrating this night. Tonight we celebrate God coming into this world. Yet God doesn't come with pomp and power. Jesus is born in humility and simplicity.
Yes, there is some glitz and glitter on the B-stage. God's army of angels appears to the shepherds in a fabulous sound and light show. But on the main stage, all we have is a baby, wrapped in strips of cloth, and sleeping in a manger.
God does not enter this world in human form as a king or conqueror. He's does not come as a rock star or a celebrity. He comes as a baby, born to a poor carpenter and his fiancée. He comes to a small backwater town in a forgotten corner of the Roman Empire. The Lord and Master of the universe enters his creation as a baby sleeping in an animal trough.
The power of the Birth of Jesus Christ comes in its stark and utter modesty. God, the most powerful being in the universe, enters the world in the birth of Jesus. But God does this in great humility, without any fanfare, without any outward signs that anything special is going on.
In reality, there was nothing outwardly glorious about the birth of Jesus. If it happened today, this birth of God would receive no coverage on CNN, no story on Fox News. And yet, it's the most important birth ever in the history of the world.
God has become a human being, born in our midst, living in our midst. That's one of the most awe-inspiring statements possible.
Yet, how excited are we? The Rolling Stones come to town, and they can pack a stadium full of screaming fans. How excited are we that God has come to us? We come to church for an hour or so. But once we leave this building, how much of a difference will that make? How much will we really celebrate God coming to us?
The Rolling Stones come to town, and people pay enormous sums of money just to come and see them, and to buy t-shirts, and other trinkets. The irony is that people pay big bucks to see a bunch of multimillionaires. In Jesus, God empties himself. He becomes our servant. He serves us even to the point of giving up his own life for us in his death on the cross. And then he offers eternal life to us as his own free gift. Will we accept that gift?
The Rolling Stones come to town and I find myself caught up in the moment, yelling out a public proclamation of adoration for my least favorite Stone. Yet how much do we proclaim with our lives that Jesus Christ is Lord? Is that something we only do in church? Or is it something we try to do with the way we live our lives, with the choices we make, with the way we love and serve others?
The Rolling Stones come to town and I go berserk when Ron Wood points his finger at me. Jesus comes reaching out his hands. He wants to grab hold of us, and hold on forever. Will we take his wounded hands in ours? Will we hold on to him?
The Rolling Stones come to town, and they stay up on a glittering stage, separate, and remote. They stay there a couple of hours, and then they leave again. Jesus comes to live in our midst. For thirty some-odd years he lived among us as a human being. And he is still spiritually in our midst. In the words of Scripture. In the sacrament of the table. But most importantly, he wants to dwell in each of our hearts.
When Mick Jagger came on stage at Cessna Stadium, the very first song he sang asked the question:
"If I could win ya, if I could sing ya
A love song so divine
Would it be enough…?"
Would it be enough? That's what God has been asking for thousands of years.
'My people. If I could win you, if I could sing you a love song so divine, would it be enough?'
God has been trying to sing that love song to us for thousands and thousands of year.
'My people, I created this wonderful world as a place you could live in harmony with me, but you turn away.
'I brought you out of slavery, and sustained you in the wilderness, but you turn away.
'I sent prophets to sing my song of love to you, but again and again you turn away.
'Here is my love song so divine. Here is my only begotten son. He is my love song made flesh. I send him to dwell with you. I send him to dwell within you. Open your hearts to my love. Open your hearts to him. If you would, that would be enough.'
That's what brings us here tonight. God's greatest gift. God's greatest love song, made human flesh in a baby in a manger.
Open your hands to him. Open your hearts to him.
O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Rev. James P. Haney V
Good Shepherd, Wichita
December 24, 2006
