Here is the text of the rhyming sermon I preached this Christmas Eve, 2012. Merry Christmas!
(For ease of oral recitation, the underlined portions indicate the syllable that serves as the first stressed foot of the tetrameter.)
“A St. Paul’s
Christmas Carol”
December 4, 2012
Luke 2:1-20
Here we are, once again, on this most sacred eve
To hear of a great tale that we’ve long believed
Of Joseph and Mary, of Christ’s holy birth
Of shepherds and angels, a star above earth
But if we are honest, and if you’re like me
There’s maybe a staleness to this great story
We’ve heard it so often that we have grown numb
Of the meaning of Christmas and God’s only Son.
Maybe, if we’re honest, we’re missing a spark
Something that makes us feel so lost in the dark.
A feeling that wrinkles the brows on our faces
A sadness that haunts on an ongoing basis.
You hear folks around you wish holiday cheer
Yet, try as you might, joy comes nowhere near.
News of injustice, and violence, and grief
It’s tough to feel joy and maintain our belief -
Belief in a God who can bring us good news;
You’re much less like Santa, and a lot more like
Scrooge
The same Scrooge we saw portrayed live on the stage
The same one that wonderful Dave Zelle played
There’s a bit of old Scrooge in each one of us,
friends
There’s a part of us longing for hope to begin.
So come, then, dear Scrooges, on a trip we will go
And take it from Marley, there is much to show
We’ll visit three places, and three times, three
sites
Of Christmas Past, Present, and Future tonight.
Our first stop is long ago into the past,
Back when our town was a wilderness, vast
Back when our roads were just dusty footpaths
Back a long time – a century and a half!
Before Knobens and Cooks and before Appleby’s
Before the Phipps, and the Pyles, even before Marlene
Kelly
Before Lundell’s and Lunquist’s, Deichmann’s, DeRoos,
Before any were here … even, Sherry Held, too
We find ourselves now near the Little Sioux River
Its thick layer of ice gives a cool, shiny shimmer
We look all around, and there’s no one to see
No streets, and no buildings, no nearby city.
We’re surrounded by woods, in the distance, some
hills
It all seems so cold here, we’re getting a chill.
As we stood there all feeling so cold with remorse
A man came up near us while riding a horse
He was gruff looking, tall, with a thin gangly frame
His thick coat had tears, and his pants were the same
He had a long beard, and a tired, worn-out look
It’s like he jumped straight off a history book
We worked up the courage to say hi to the man
And told him we’re visitors to this strange land.
“Travelers, huh?” the man said, “I’m one too.
“My name’s O.S. Wight, and it’s nice to meet you.
“I’ve traveled some distance to this desolate land.
“In the hopes of my following God’s mighty plan.
“You see, I’m a preacher, a Methodist brand.
“And God’s called me here to come settle new land.
“It’s just me and my wife, and this horse and some
stuff.
“It’s about all we’ve got, but with God, it’s enough.
“We think that this place is a suitable spot.
“To set up a town, and a church – the whole lot.
“So I can’t give a name to this town here, just yet.
“But it’s now Christmas Eve, 1858.
We blink, disbelieving that where we all stood
Would someday be a Cherokee neighborhood
And here’s Reverend Wight, the Methodist preacher
The one who was Cherokee’s original settler.
And the cool thing is now we just happen to be
Here for the first Christmas in Cherokee.
He invited us back to his home for a bit.
He said, “You all look tired, come on in for a sit.”
His house was quite basic, a one-room wood frame.
A small fire gave us some good warmth with its flame.
We met his wife, who came to greet us warmly
We’re touched by this couples’ hospitality
“Join us for dinner,” she told us, “All of you.”
“It’s not a whole lot, but it’s good Christmas stew.”
We sat their table, the fire made us feel warm.
Our eyes drifted around, and we studied the room.
In the corner, we spotted a rattle and doll.
And a small pretty dress, on a hook on the wall.
“Do you have a child, Reverend and Mrs. Wight?”
Then we noticed their faces began to turn white.
“We did,” the man said, but then … his voice got real
quiet
“Well, this harsh frontier life…she didn’t quite make
it.
“She got sick, and, well, we just couldn’t save her.
“We buried her on a hill not far from the river.
We sat in stunned silence, since words have escaped
us
To say to those who’ve lost a child before Christmas
Before we all ate, Reverend Wight said, “Let’s pray.”
“Dear God,” he began, “we give thanks for this day.
“For on this good night many long years ago
“You gave us yourself, to the world you did show
“Born not in a palace, where royalty sits.
“Not in a castle with kings dwelling in it.
“You entered where outcasts were pushed to the fringe
“Where the lonely and lost and the lowly had been.
“You were born in humanity’s sorrows and fears.
“Just like out here, way out in the frontier.
“So bless us, dear Lord, once again with your love.
“Bless us with courage to share grace from above.
“And may all of our efforts to start this new town.
“And to plant a small church on this, your holy
ground
“Be around after we have long left this grand earth.
“So those in the future can hear news of Christ’s
birth.
“We won’t be here forever, that much is sure.
“So use all we do to ensure the future.
“May you find us faithful, until our life’s end.
“And may your love endure, in your name, Amen.
We opened our eyes and we sat very still.
To hear our church founder pray was quite a thrill.
O.S. Wight, long ago, imagined each one of us.
And knew that we all would need life in Jesus.
So he risked all that he had, and he and his wife
Sacrificed all they were so that we would have life.
They believed in the church, and the good it could do
To save who’d come after them, like me and like you
The Wight’s took God’s love and then gave it away
To do so is part of St. Paul’s DNA.
Then suddenly, out of the blue, in a flash,
We were all whisked away in a hyper-speed dash.
Through time and through space, we moved out at light
speed.
And landed back here, in present Cherokee.
As we look around town, all is calm, all is bright
All things seem to be as they should be tonight.
It’s Christmas Eve here, and the town looks quite
nice
With its hanging greenery and its twinkling lights
There’s Christmas trees up in our homes and our
places
Presents beneath them to light up our kids’ faces
Tonight, they will sleep safely tucked in their beds
With visions of sugarplums stuck in their heads
But behind some closed doors is a more somber sight
Invisible to most, but we see them tonight.
The first is a couple, forlorn, at their table
Neither are smiling because they’re not able.
Between them are papers, and one says, “Foreclosure”
It dawns on us what are the burdens they shoulder.
At once, we dash off, and appear once again.
In another one’s home, and we see an old man.
He stares at a picture of his wife who just died
His first Christmas alone, without her by his side.
In a blink we are whisked to another household
And we see a room full of folks both young and old.
In the middles’ a woman, looking torn with great
tension
Her family’s surrounded her for an intervention.
In an instant we see yet another sad place.
This one is a young couple, they’re face to face.
For years they have tried to make their marriage
last.
But there’s just too much hurt that they just can’t
get past.
We dash to another part of Cherokee
And next there’s a young girl that all of us see
She stares into space, as if into thin air.
And says, quietly, “God, I don’t know if you’re
there.”
And then, finally, in another one’s home,
In an upstairs bedroom, sitting there, all alone.
Is a young little girl, and as faint as can be
She says to her teddy bear: “Won’t someone love me?”
One by one, around town, behind many closed doors,
We saw all the hurt that is present for sure.
All around us, right now, on this Christmas present
There’s a pain that makes our hearts all yearn for
Advent.
It’s the Christmas we don’t see, but that we all feel
The one deep inside once the surface is peeled.
Beneath all the holiday, plastic good cheer
Is a cold, chilly feeling, like on the frontier.
Then we remember what O.S. Wight prayed
For those who were lonely and feeling afraid
We remembered that he lived believing the church
Could give hope to people who were lost in their
search
Looking for peace, and longing for hope
Looking for ways in the darkness to cope
But what of these people that we’ve seen tonight?
How will their lives turn around toward the light?
With all of their heartache and all of their grief?
And all of their doubts that prevent their belief?
What of the addict, the marriage that’s ripped?
Financial distress, or the fears that are gripped?
What about those for whom Christmas ain’t Merry?
Could there be those folks here right in this
sanctuary?
This present day Christmas is not all it can be
For those who are suffering in sheer misery
Well, there’s one final trip we must take, you all
know
It’s on to the future that we all must go.
We forge years ahead, year Twenty-Forty-Two (2042)
Thirty years following all of us, me and you.
We look around town, and not too much has changed
Nothing seems out of place, nothing seems strange
We pick up a newspaper and scan the day’s news
The front page contains a full year in review
Apple just came out with iPhone Fifteen
And Rocky 20 debuted
on the big screen
Cars in the future make sixty mpg
And Barney the Dinosaur’s still annoying to me
Computers are now the size of a strawberry
And, lo and behold! The Cubs won the World Series
And here is good news that surely astounds
Thirty years later, Sherry Held’s still around!
So some things are different, but here it’s the same,
As we walk into St. Paul’s, still on 6th
and Main.
It’s Christmas Eve here, in year Twenty Fourty-Two.
There’s chrismon trees, lights, and an advent wreath,
too.
It’s basically a lot like the St. Paul’s we have
known.
‘Cause even the dining hall’s still not yet done.
We walk through the doors, as the service begins
The preacher seems nice, and he welcomes us in.
The choir is lovely, their songs tried and true
Lots of kids come down for children’s time, too
And then there’s the sermon, no gimmicky rhymes
Just a word about having Jesus in our lives.
The preacher asks anyone in the congregation
If they’d like to share how they’ve seen God’s love
in action.
Several hands shot up tall, and the first one stood
up.
After clearing her throat, she began to speak up.
When she spoke, we realized she’s the one that we’d
seen
As the one whom we saw in the present day scene.
She said, “Many years ago, my life was the pits.”
“On one Christmas Eve, I’d had ‘nuff of it.
“My family came over for an intervention
“And because of this church, I addressed my addiction
“Tonight I’ve been sober for thirty years now.
“Without God in my life, I wouldn’t know how.
There was some applause, then another one stood.
He was nervous, but spoke out the best that he could.
“Thirty years ago, on this night I was home
“Feeling so frightened, and so lost and alone.
“I had all these doubts about if God was true
“I was mad at the church, and at Christianity, too.
“I thought I could figure things out with my mind.
“And get over those Christians, hypocritical, unkind.
“But then one of you reached out to me in my grief.
“And God’s love put in action rekindled belief.
“Now, ‘cause of God, my life’s been turned around.
“Because all of you, my world’s turned upside down.
Another one stood, and her words stirred our hearts.
As she spoke of how Jesus gave her a new start.
She’d been through divorce, and miscarried a child.
She’d then lost her job, with a bankruptcy filed.
Someone at St. Paul’s then invited her here.
She joined a small group, and confronted her
fears.
So now on this Christmas, she came to tell all
That her life had been changed by this babe in a
stall.
One by one, they came up, with a story to share.
Of how God’s love in action through St. Paul’s was
there.
There to meet them in the midst of their tears
There, just like O.S. Wight on the frontier
There, like the shepherds on Christ’s holy birth
Went out to share God’s love to all in the earth
We realized, then, what this Christmas was for
It’s not about parties and gift giving galore
It’s about sharing God’s love with those who are down
low
About giving ourselves to heal others’ sorrows
It’s about being the church in a world that needs
hope
About giving the downtrodden methods to cope
And maybe for some of you, you’re feeling blue
Because you don’t think there’s something that you
can do
To combat the Scrooge that has set up a tent
Inside of your heart on this Christmas Present
Well, here’s some good news, for you there is no
doubt
This Christ has been born in you, and him you can
live out
No need to succumb to a culture that’s dark
Because in Christ alone, God can give you a spark
To live beyond who you thought you’d always been
To overcome all of your burdensome sin
To turn back your focus away from yourself
And renew a commitment to serve someone else
This God has a plan to do great work through you
With your unique abilities and giftedness, too
This God has a love for you that will persist
And is the grand reason that you even exist
This one is the God who made past, present, and
future
And this God, this Christmas, will make you secure
In the knowledge and hope that this God has came near
To vanquish your worries and conquer all your fears.
Since over one hundred fifty years ago
This church, from its humblest beginnings, we know
Has shared the incarnate Word, Jesus made flesh
To everyone whose life has been in a mess.
It’s part of our heritage, and our DNA
To help those around us, and show them the way
The way to a new life of peace and goodwill
The way to a word of hope, and promise still
The way to salvation, of love born anew
The way that can save us, even me, even you.
So how will you celebrate Christmas come dawn?
More importantly, how will you live it from now on?
God has given a gift, Jesus heaven sent
So be the gift tomorrow, just as it is the present
In the name of the God who created the heavens,
Redeems us, sustains us, we all say, Amen.
