“There’s something missing in the Christmas story as I have read it to you from the New Revised Standard Version of Luke’s Gospel. It’s not the Wise Men. They have yet to arrive and that’s Matthew’s Gospel anyway, not Luke’s. It’s not the Drummer Boy waking the baby with his per-rump-a-bump-bum. Despite the attempts of many generations, he never made it into the Bible. It’s true, there is no taxing going on here when it comes to Mary and Joseph heading to Bethlehem. In the old days, the decree that went out from Caesar Augustus indicated that all the world should be taxed. Now, according to Luke in this account, everyone should be registered. The tax is gone. But it’s not the taxing I miss in Luke’s narration of the birth of Jesus.  It’s the swaddling.
            “And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.” Swaddling clothes. Swaddling. Bands of cloth just doesn’t seem right? “She gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth.” And “This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” Bands of cloth? Like an ace bandage used to wrap an ankle? Like the wrap used on King Tut; around and around and around? Bands of cloth. The intent of the Greek word is pretty clear: to wrap in baby clothes. In the ancient world, strips of cloth were used to wrap an infant. There’s something timeless, even universal about the wrap of an infant. Wrapped up in safety and warmth. Wrapped up for comfort and sleep. Wrapped up to protect even from a baby’s own reflex. Wrapped; like a receiving blanket turned on its corners with the top flap folded down and then brought up and tucked under the arm. Swaddling. Swaddling clothes. You will find a child wrapped in swaddling clothes. I’m sorry, “bands of cloth” just doesn’t cut it! Is it too much to ask?  I’m okay with Mary no longer being “great with child”. Now she is just expecting. But can’t we do something about the swaddling?    
            Pretty much everything else about Christmas is up for grabs anymore, so I don’t have any high hopes about swaddling! It must be a recognizable genre of preaching by now. You know it went you hear it, especially this time of year. The kind of sermon that rallies the people in the pew. The kind of preaching that would have us church-going folks as victims of a culture gone bad. The kind of message that harkens back to the good old days where you sing Christmas carols and put up a creche wherever and whenever you pleased, thank you very much! Preaching that strikes a nerve as the listeners whisper yes, an clinch a fist, and go out determined to say “Merry Christmas” instead of Happy Holidays!  The faithful whipped into a frenzy because, after all, they’ve stolen Christmas, you know.
            The preacher’s rant at Christmas. The church taking on the machine. Or to use the imagery of Jack Black in the movie “School of Rock”, the preacher looking to stick it to the man. “The man”, of course, represents all that is wrong with the world that has ripped the meaning of Christmas right out from under our feet while we weren’t looking. Every year there is plenty of material available for the preacher rant. This year is no different. News reports about town councils debating the merits of Christmas Tree as a religious or secular symbol and refusing the local rabbi’s request for a display of the menorah. Papers closer to home that tell of email instructions to teachers about what is proper and what is not in a holiday classroom party. One my sermon scouts in the adult choir told me of an underwear commercial that ends with the phrase “comfort and joy.” Christmas preacher and a locker room pep talk. Let’s go out there and take Christmas back! Of course the last thing the world needs right now is a few more Christians with a triumphalistic edge. And a preacher ranting in defense of Christmas seems a bit inconsistent when the whole story of such Good News, inn and manger and baby and all that, it started far away from the center of town or the heart of culture or the halls of justice or the seat of power. We shouldn’t kid ourselves. 
            Christmas, faith, and culture. From bumper stickers to the highest courts in the land, the debate never stops. The conversation this year has soar to the heights of the ivory tower as various intellectuals are weighing in on the matter. In print just these last few days, a Harvard professor of sociology, an evolutionary biologist from Oxford, a literary critic in the current issue of The New Republic. Best selling authors leaping into the fray of what some would suggest is a culture war; which is a horrible use of words when there’s a war going on.
            Should an atheist celebrate Christmas? That doesn’t keep me up at night, but it seems to be a popular question these days. “I participate for family reasons” says Richard Dawkins whose best-selling book is entitled The God Delusion. “With a reluctance that owes more to aesthetics than atheistics. I detest Jingle Bells, White Christmas, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, and the obscene spending bonanza....So divorced has Christmas become from religion that I find no necessity to bother with euphemisms such as happy holiday season....Understanding full well that the phrase retains zero religious significance, I unhesitatingly wish everyone a Merry Christmas.” Boy, he’d be a great one to have at a  party, wouldn’t he? That may be reason enough to stick with Happy Holidays.
            Or just in yesterday’s paper. “The outcome of all of this (this secularized/Christian mush of Christmas) the outcome of all of this is a uniquely American national festival perfectly attuned to the demotic pulse of the common culture; its openness and vitality; its transcending appropriation of eclectic sources, its seductive materialism.” Does anyone understand that?  I do get a chuckle out of such intellectual banter from those who are responding to what their debaters simply offer in a bumper sticker: “Jesus is the Reason for the Season.”
            Another scholar weighs in: “It seems to me to be obvious that everything we value in Christmas– giving gifts, celebrating the holiday with families, enjoying all of the kitsch that comes along with it–all of that has been entirely appropriated by the secular world...”  Everything we value, he says. Everything we value in Christmas. His list is rather short, don’t you think? Gifts, celebrating with family, all the kitsch. All the kitsch. I think that’s where this comes in, where we come in; where our gathering tonight comes into that scholarly, complete typology of “everything we value in Christmas”. This is kitsch.
            Rather than rant, rather than sticking to the man, rather than taking on the market force of Christmas that mixes underwear commercials and the language of faith or joining the banter of the intellectual elite, rather than rant, can I just tell you what I value at Christmas? Not a complete list or anything like that. Certainly not an attempt to define “everything we value in Christmas.” But just for me, this year, just right about now, what Luke’s account means for me.  Tonight amid my family. Tonight in this congregation so full of faces new and faces familiar, this community of faith. Right about now in my journey of faith, my relationship to God, my understanding of what is meaningful, what brings me joy. Let me give my testimony. Let me tell you what I value at Christmas.
            It’s the swaddling. Swaddling God. Yes, I miss “the child wrapped in swaddling clothes” when I read the 2nd chapter of Luke in the New Revised Standard Version. But that’s not what I mean when I say “swaddling God.” Yes, in swaddling the Baby Jesus, Mary was swaddling God. For we believe the Christ Child, he was fully human, and fully God. Yes, in receiving the Christ Child at Christmas, you and I, we are called to swaddle the Word made flesh with everything that we are and everything that we have. Swaddling God. But that’s not what moves me deep within this Christmas. Swaddling God.
            We’re not the ones doing the swaddling. Mary, yes. But when it comes to this birth of a Savior and swaddling, it is God doing the swaddling. God swaddling us. God swaddling me. God swaddling you. That’s what I value in the message of Christmas. That’s what I rise to share with you tonight. That I am being called to rest and abide in the very love of God. It’s not something I chose to argue about, certainly not rant about. I’m not going to defend it either. Truth is, I have trouble just describing what it means or how it feels. Wrapped in God’s love for safety and warmth. Wrapped up for comfort and rest. Wrapped up to protect even from my own reflexes. Resting and abiding now and forever, in the love of God. And it fills my heart with joy. It calms my soul and gives me peace. And it inspires me to celebrate with my family that I love so much and the church family entrusted to my care. That’s what I value this Christmas and it is what I have to tell you. This Good News of great joy. God loves you.
            Just last Tuesday a student at the seminary stopped me after class. “Pastor, why do we hear so much preaching now a days that is all about grace and love, so warm and fuzzy. What ever happened to hellfire and brimstone and judgment?” I joked with him that when you preach most weeks you don’t hear a whole lot of what others are preaching so I couldn’t really attest to his point. But then I thought about this Christmas Eve sermon that was on my mind. “I guess it has to do with the preacher’s own theological perspective which is broader than any one sermon. I don’t believe God is to be feared. When I preach, I am called to give testimony to the God who loves me.”  I think he wanted a deeper, longer theological argument, a longer answer than my belief in the swaddling God, the God who so loves me and you and this world that God gave of his only begotten Son. Good news of a great joy.
            There are those meals, those celebrations, those feasts in life, where you are so surrounded by love and abundance and blessing. Some times at the table, there is such joy.
            Come to the Table tonight. It’s Christmas Eve. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is the Christ the Lord. This will be a sign for you; you will find a child wrapped in swaddling clothes.” And you, you should come and rest and abide in the love of God.

Swaddling God.


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