Christ Episcopal Church
July 14, 2013
Christmas in July
The Midnight Christmas Eve service is one of my favorite Christ Church worship services. While each of our three Christmas Eve services has a special flavor, there is something sacred about coming to church in the quiet of the night in the pitch darkness, when the weather almost always poses a challenge, to welcome the birth of the Christ Child. There is a hushed tenderness about that service that seems fitting for the birth of a child, and yet at the same time, the choir and the congregation sing their collective hearts out in a joyful welcome. The jars of baby food that we have brought for the baby Jesus are brought forward to the creche with reverence and awe. At the end of the service, we have a lovely party in the parish hall to complete the festivities and when we drive home, the streets are quiet and all seems right with the world.
Why, then, do we celebrate Christmas in July? Just this week, people have said to me that Christmas in July is uncomfortable, confusing, weird (which I already knew), and inappropriate (with which I disagree). A parishioner sent me a text message from Kroger to let me know that the Salvation Army is now ringing Christmas in July bells outside the grocery store, and I have seen several signs around town for Christmas in July sales. Are we just looking for another excuse for a party?
Let me explain. On a random Thursday morning last month, as Liz, the parish secretary and I were trying to get the articles for July newsletter together, the doorbell rang. A mom, a dad, and their young teenage daughter needed a place to stay. They had been at Interfaith Hospitality Network, but left because they thought they had a place to live. But that plan feel through and now they were homeless again. Could we help? We had already helped this particular family with gasoline a couple of times in the past week, and they needed more help than our resources would cover, so we sent them to another agency that could help them.
No sooner had they left, than the doorbell rang again. A woman who we had also helped several times already needed another night in a hotel. She and her two children had been evicted from their apartment because the apartment was full of lead dust and the younger child has a significantly elevated level of lead in his blood. They had no food and no clothes since they everything they owned was contaminated with lead dust. We could give the mom food, and told her where she could get help with clothes at no cost, and eventually got her into Interfaith Hospitality Network until she could find a place to live.
The morning is now half over. And I am thinking that surely we have done our good deeds for the day. But no. On the phone was the case manager from Project Woman wondering if we could provide a client with a gas card to get to a job interview. At least that one was quick and easy. Then another person came by needing a gas card, then Ohio Edison came by to talk about trimming the trees around the power lines. Then the phone rang and the caller was a young boy who I had never met who had gone to Procter Camp last summer and wanted to know if he could go again this summer. We had no clue who this child was, but we figured any child with the gumption to call up a random Episcopal Church and ask to go to Procter Camp needed to be heard. And on and on went this very bizarre and sometimes frustrating morning. At one point I said to Liz, "You take the phone. I’ll take the door." Noon quickly arrived-the morning had not been dull-and my column for the Clarion was yet unwritten.
The reason we celebrate Christmas in July, as I wrote in that Clarion article eventually, is to remind me and to remind all of us that we encounter the Christ Child in our midst, homeless, hungry, without clothes, when we least expect him, not just in December when we’ve had weeks to prepare and can greet him in peace and tranquility. The core of the Christmas story is that Mary and Joseph, a young unwed couple with an unplanned pregnancy were taking care of bureaucratic red tape, when Mary went into labor and they had no place to stay. Homeless, hungry, no decent clothes for her child, bureaucratic red tape, no material resources to speak of...where have I heard that story before?
Christmas in July is not about romanticizing poverty and feeling good about serving Jesus. Some days Jesus is loud and demanding. He tries my patience and gets on my nerves, as I am sure he tries your patience as well, as you meet Jesus in your classrooms, at the hospital, in the Food Pantry, and in the many other places we work or volunteer, or in people we disagree with, or who have hurt us, or who we just plain don’t get along with. Christmas in July reminds us that the incarnation-God made flesh in the person of Jesus-is not just the tender scene we meet on Christmas Eve, although that is certainly part of Christmas. The messiah is not just the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace described in the soaring words from Isaiah, although those words certainly do describe Jesus. We celebrate Christmas in July because the incarnation is also uncomfortable, calling us to see Jesus in places we would rather not look and confront injustice and oppression when we see it. The incarnation is outrageous, calling us to treat strangers as the Holy Child. And the incarnation is challenging, causing us to question our values and see how they line up with our belief that we are called to seek and serve the Christ Child in all people, no exceptions. Christmas in July is our yearly reminder that our ministry in this place is not about outreach or doing good deeds. Our ministry is about Jesus.
Amen.
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