Everyone in the Christmas story has their own story to tell.

Mary and Joseph tell us the story of being proud parents with their first child. They have endured a lot over the last few days just getting here, but now that all seems minor and unimportant as they take turns holding their little boy, as they gaze into his eyes, still blinking even in the soft light of a stable, still adjusting to the large world outside. They tell a story of hopes and dreams and wonders. They count off his tiny toes and fingers, reveling in their simple form and beauty--hands that grip his parents’ big fingers and feet that kick within the swaddling cloths. There is no greater gift for them than to have this child in their arms.

Remember that as we gather with family and friends. There is no greater gift than the human beings with whom we share our lives. They are all that is important, for with them is love, the shared being of one another that makes life endurable.

The shepherds tell us the story of being forgotten and then remembered. Most folks ignored them out in the fields, just took them for granted as part of the landscape, scuttling with the sheep across the road and through the village. There was no reason to think of them. They just did their job. But angels sang for them. God came and spoke to them. To the shepherds. God took note of them. God remembered them.

Remember that as we gather together. The good news of Christmas is that no one is to be forgotten. No one is unworthy of attention. No one should be left alone or taken for granted. All alike are children of God. Remember that and perhaps we can change the world in which we live.

The innkeeper tells the story of yet another stressed human being, someone stretched to the breaking point, someone confronted by one too many people needing something, asking for something, looking for something, while a dozen more pull on his sleeves for their own needs to be met. In his stress he can find no room. In his stress he shuts himself up and closes off his awareness. Maybe it will all go away.

Remember that as we gather together. The holidays fly by and some of us never really get to be in them. They fly by and we miss the important things happening all around us. Remember to slow down. Remember to ask for help. Remember that someone really does care about us even as we feel ourselves flying apart.

The Romans tell the story of growing apathetic. Some things are beneath notice. Some things are too trivial to worry about. Just keep moving and doing what needs to be done. The Romans tell the story of forgetting that everything we are part of is comprised of human beings, real human beings, with faces and names and laughter all their own.

Remember that as we gather together. We are always in the presence of someone, someone who is also trying to live their lives and trying to be who they need to be. Remember to stop and take notice. Remember that even those with whom we live in our own homes are fellow travelers. Everyone is a child of God, as this night so wondrously proclaims.

That is the story the Christ child tells as he lay there in the manger. He has come for us, he abides with us, he waits for us. His love grows as we learn to love him. His power multiplies as we care for him. His peace is our peace and his joy is our joy.

This is the story that ties all the others together. It is the story that makes this night holy.

Let its light fill your heart, and let its message fill your ears. This is good news of great joy for all the people.

Amen.

There is an irony to our gathering this evening.

The table stands out of time and place. This is the celebration of the manger, not the cross. This is the celebration of a wondrous birth, not a miraculous death. Why do we gather around the table of a last supper on this quiet night?

Because the table is the center of this holy night. This night would not be holy without this table.

Jesus Christ was born for this table, to give himself, to empty himself, that we might be full and well.

Jesus Christ was born to set us free, to still frightened souls, to quicken dead hearts, and to shine glorious light into even the darkest corners of the world. This table shows us how.

Here God and sinner stand reconciled. Here the child of Mary comes to us and abides with us. Here we find joy for all the world.

Here all warfare is ended and all pain is healed. Here all that divides us is conquered. Here all that holds us captive is dismissed. Here all that is broken is mended.

It comes in the deep of the night, like a thief, like a shadow across the moon. It comes through a mother’s murmured prayer whispered into an infant’s ear. It comes in the glowing eyes of a father keeping watch over his family sheltering with the animals. It comes with angel songs and shepherds’ hymns. It comes to lead us to the table.

At the table we taste and see that the Lord is good. This little child will be the Messiah, the Savior of his people. He will lead them from the exile of despair, fear, doubt, and loss and guide them to this table where all are found, claimed, and named as children of God.

Isaiah sees the peace of Eden restored through the coming Messiah. At this table we find what he was longing for. Isaiah sees an end to the strife between God and humanity. He sees the way we are to go as we come to this table.

So come to this table, worship the King all glorious above, who lay for now in a manger among the animals, but who will rise to be the Everlasting God, the Prince of Peace, the Lord our God, who reigns forever and ever.

Alleluia, sing the angels; Alleluia, sing the shepherds; Alleluia, sing all God’s people.