top of page
Preaching Roundtable.png

Green Blades Preaching Roundtable

Christmas III

Year B
December 25, 2023
Pastor John Dietz

Isaiah 52:7-10
Psalm 98
Hebrews 1:1-12
John 1:1-14

 

When I was a young and new pastor years ago, I was invited to the home of a parishioner for a meal — more of a dinner party, as it turned out. When I arrived, the host greeted me at the door, took my coat, and brought me into the living room where I was introduced to the other guests. They were already enjoying their drinks and warmly welcomed me into their conversation. Our host then excused herself into the kitchen. After some time had passed, I remember going to the kitchen and asking her if she would like any help, but the offer was refused. I was to go back to the living room and enjoy myself.

 

Dinner was finally announced and all the guests were given a place at the beautifully set table — china, silver, candles, flowers. Of course, being the pastor, I was asked to pray, and then we sat down and the host popped back into the kitchen to bring out the first course. We had just begun to enjoy what I still recall as a delicious meal, when our host once again disappeared into the kitchen where she stayed preparing the next course. This happened a number of times during the meal; she brought out food — wonderful food — and then retreated back into the kitchen.

 

At first it was barely noticeable, but over the course of the meal, we all became more and more aware of our host’s absence. She had invited us into her home, she had prepared this excellent food, and yet she wasn’t really part of it at all. It was only after coffee and dessert when she attempted to leave once again for the kitchen sink to start on dishes when the whole company finally requested, and nearly demanded, she stay with us so that we could enjoy her presence as well.

 

In her efforts to be hospitable and to provide us the best dining experience she could, our host had actually become quite inhospitable, making all of her guests feel quite awkward — as if she were our cook, server, and dishwasher and we were non-paying customers at a restaurant, rather than invited friends in her home.

 

I think of Saint John’s prologue, which is appointed for Christmas Day and at least encouraged to be read at some other time during the Christmas season. And I hear, beyond the parallels with Genesis and the first story of the beginnings of creation, strong echoes of the canticle from Colossians: “[Christ] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:15-17).

 

The scriptures tell us that all things came into being through the eternal Word of God — everything was created by and for Christ. And the great mystery of our faith is that Christ not only creates it, but then actually comes into this creation, albeit unknown and unaccepted, to live with us and for us. He doesn’t just make an appearance to prove that he exists or perhaps that he cares, but he comes to share our existence in every way. St. Athansius wrote in On the Incarnation: “The Lord did not come to make a display. He came to heal and to teach suffering men. For one who wanted to make a display, the thing would have been just to appear and dazzle the beholders. But for him who came to heal and to teach the way was not merely to dwell here, but to put himself at the disposal of those who needed him, and to be manifested according as they could bear it.”

 

Too often it seems like, especially in the season of Advent, we focus on welcoming Christ into our world, preparing a place for him, getting ready to receive him … and yet it is Christ who receives us, and from the very beginning, was speaking this world we live in into existence — preparing a home in which to welcome us. Could Christmas remind us that this world is his, it is the home he has prepared, and we are his guests here?

 

When we celebrate the incarnation of Christ in our own time and place, it becomes more embarrassing than awkward to think of what we have done to this world, considering that we are only guests. We remember our place here, not as the creator, but as creatures and care takers.

 

Unlike my host of that dinner party so many years ago, Christ does not invite us into this world, into this life, and then disappear from us — back to the kitchen of creation. On Christmas Day, and in this season, we become especially aware that he comes to us to live among us — like one of us, and for all of us. We find him in the living rooms, enjoying the appetizers and conversations; he’s sitting at the kitchen table, dishing out the food family-style so he won’t miss even one story, one laugh, one tear. Christ is here — truly present — and in this incarnate Word we know what Isaiah meant when he told us about the coming Immanuel (Isaiah 7:14): God is with us.

 

At Christmas, we might look around us: at the church, in our homes, over the winter-frozen landscape, and at each of the people who have joined us — especially the people — these faithful parishioners and once-a-year visitors, our family and friends, and remember the promise that yes, God is with us in all of it, but also that we are called to be with God. The promise we hear on Christmas that God makes to us in “the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3:5) might strengthen and renew our own promises made to God and to the church. In our affirmation of the baptismal covenant, we declare our intention to live among God’s faithful people, and implicit in that communal life of faith is our care of for others and the world God made.

 

Finally, in the Holy Communion we join our prayers and praise with the angels and saints at all times and in all places for the wonder and mystery of the Word made flesh. We are drawn to worship the God who comes into his own creation, and through that very creation — the bread and wine of the eucharistic feast — feeds his guests with his real presence at a table of grace and mercy, forgiveness and new and everlasting life.     

Pastor John Dietz
Pastor John Dietz
First Lutheran Church
Hibbing, Minnesota

John Dietz is the pastor of First Lutheran Church in Hibbing. First Lutheran is a Pollinator Sanctuary congregation and an EcoFaith Network Partner Congregation.

EcoFaith Logo

The EcoFaith Network

NE-MN Synod ELCA with Saint Paul Area Synod Care of Creation

St Paul Area Synod Care of Creation Logo

Find us on 

  • Facebook
©2023 The EcoFaith Network 
bottom of page