Welcome on this holiest of nights. I want to begin with a story about a young man named Marty. Marty was a bright, lively eight-year-old who suffered from a minor disability he was deaf in one ear. He lived in a rural community of farms and fences. Marty’s mom, Diane, was proud of her son. She knew he had a kind and loving heart.
Several weeks before Christmas one year, Marty shared a secret with his mother. He had been doing extra chores and saving up his allowance in order to buy a Christmas present, a pocket compass, for his best friend, Kenny. Kenny was being raised by a single mom and life for their family was a daily struggle just to acquire the most basic of needs of food and clothing.
Diane knew that Kenny’s mom was a very proud woman. Diane doubted that Kenny’s mom would allow Kenny to accept a gift if he couldn’t give one in return. Marty argued with his mother and finally said, “But what if it was a secret? What if they never found out who gave it?” Diane finally relented. If somehow Marty could give Kenny the gift without anyone knowing who gave it, that would be acceptable. So, on Christmas Eve Diane watched her son walk out the door, cross the wet pasture and slip beneath the electric fence on his mission of kindness.
Marty raced up to Kenny’s door and pressed the doorbell. Then he ran down the steps and across the yard so he wouldn’t be seen. Suddenly, the electric fence loomed in front of him. He could not avoid it. The shock knocked him to the ground and he gasped for breath. Slowly, he got up and stumbled home.
When he arrived home Diane treated the blister on Marty’s face cause by the electric fence, then put him to bed. That night as Diane tucked Marty in, she silently complained to God for allowing her son to be hurt when he was performing a good deed. The next day, however, Kenny came to the front door excitedly talking about his new compass. Amazingly, Marty who, you’ll remember, was deaf in one ear seemed to hear Kenny talking with both of his ears.
A few weeks later, a school nurse confirmed what Diane suspected: Marty’s hearing in his deaf ear had been completely restored. Though doctors said it might have been the shock from the electric fence, Diane believed it was a Christmas miracle. (1)
Christmas is a night for miracles. It is a magical night of wonder and faith. The children are excited. Moms and Dads are excited, too, as they remember the joy and anticipation they felt as youngsters as Christmas approached, and they see that same joy in the eyes of their children.
How good it is to hear the prophetic words of Isaiah, “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned . . . For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
All of us know what it is to walk in darkness at some time in our lives. Darkness comes in many forms loneliness, pain, grief, confusion, heartache. All these emotions seem to be intensified at Christmas.
It is no accident that Christmas falls just after the shortest day of our year. December 21st, known as the winter solstice, is usually the shortest day of the year because the sun is shining directly on the Tropic of Capricorn, meaning that it is the day that we receive the least amount of direct sunlight. Many of you are familiar with the term Seasonal Affective Disorder S. A. D. Periods of physical darkness can breed depression, melancholy, sadness. But, at the darkest time of the year, our world turns a corner. From today on, our days will get longer. There will be a little more sunlight each day. Christmas reminds us that light is coming into our world, in a physical sense as well as a spiritual one!
The shepherds out on a Judean hillside knew about darkness in a way that city dwellers, particularly modern city dwellers cannot. There was no artificial lighting in their world. The only light came from the stars above. So you can imagine how startled they were to be suddenly surrounded by a great light. Luke tells us an angel appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them. The glory of the Lord is a wonderful thing, but when you are not expecting it, it must have seemed like an alien invasion. Luke tells us the shepherds were terrified. They had never experienced light like this.
But the angel reassured them. “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” And suddenly, Luke tells us, a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
In the darkness there is a light that shines . . . And that light is a babe born in Bethlehem. That’s the good news for this night. In John 8:12 Jesus says to us, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” If you are experiencing any darkness in your life right now, there is a light dawning, and that light is an infant born to be our Savior.
On The Protestant Hour sometime back, the Rev. Harry H. Pritchett, Jr., told about the worst nativity pageant he could ever remember. It was at the church where he grew up. The youth group was staging a manger scene. Pritchett was chosen to play Joseph and his future wife, Allison, was chosen to play Mary. They did their parts with seriousness and commitment, looking as pious as possible. And then it came time for the shepherds to enter. The choir was singing “While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night,” and some of their fellow young people dressed in flannel bathrobes and toweled head gear proceeded to the altar steps. Young Pritchett and Allison both managed to gaze solemnly at the straw which contained a naked light bulb. But then one of the shepherds broke the sacred spell. With his back to the congregation, he said in a very loud whisper for all the cast to hear, “Well, Joe, when you gonna pass out cigars?”
The spell of that occasion was not simply broken by his remark, it exploded. The Mary and Joseph cover was completely destroyed as it became impossible to hold back the bursts of laughter. The chief angel, standing on a chair behind them was the worst. She shook so hard that she fell off her chair and simply rolled over on the floor, holding her stomach. The strains of “Silent Night” and “0 Little Town of Bethlehem” were hardly sufficient to cover the uncontrolled snorts of the main characters. Their much upset but good‑sported youth advisor said, “The only thing that didn’t go to pieces was the light bulb in the manger, it never went out.” Harry Pritchett thought to himself later, that’s a nice image-‑the light in the manger never goes out regardless of any mess we may make of things. (2)
That light never goes out. If you are experiencing a time of darkness in your life, there is hope, and that hope has to do with a small babe lying in a manger. That babe has brought light into the world. He has changed our world. Those of you who are parents know how a baby can do that.
The year was 1953, and the Korean War was drawing to a close. U.S. soldiers stationed around Korea didn’t have much to do as they waited for the armistice negotiations to wrap up. Hugh Keenan was a young sailor assigned to the U.S.S. Consolation, a medical ship. Morale was low on the ship, and like many of his buddies, Hugh was homesick. He had a wife and daughter back in the States, and he was desperate to return to them. Someone suggested that Hugh might get a lift from visiting a local Korean orphanage run by Catholic nuns.
As Hugh toured the orphanage, eager little faces peered at him. The nuns ran the place with very little money, but a lot of faith and resourcefulness. Apple crates served as cribs for many of the babies. One baby in particular caught Hugh’s eye. He was a biracial baby, part American and part Korean; such a child would surely face prejudice in Korean society. A lieutenant and the skipper from Hugh’s ship were visiting the orphanage, too, and they decided to find a good home for the child in America.
But until the Consolation could return to the States, the baby boy would have to live on the ship. Instantly, morale on the ship shot up. The sailors set up baby-sitting shifts, so that all the men would get a chance to feed, change, bathe, or watch after the little boy. Some of the men fashioned homemade toys for the child. They hung his cloth diapers out to dry with the ship’s signal flags, which proved confusing to a number of passing ships. Everyone took an interest in this new child and his well-being.
When Hugh Keenan finally stepped forward and offered to adopt the child, the ship’s crew burst into cheers. But there was still the matter of getting his official papers signed, and the Korean bureaucracy moved extremely slowly. So the ship’s chaplain, Father Riley, took matters into his own hands. He set up a poker game between himself and an official of the Korean government. The Father put up $200 of his own money for the game. The ship’s doctor donated his watch, a precious family heirloom, to sweeten the pot. And the Korean official brought a passport for the baby. Whoever won the game would get everything in the pot. Father Riley won.
Hugh Keenan took his son home and named him Daniel Edward Keenan. The Daniel comes from Hugh’s father’s name. Edward is the first name of Father Riley. Daniel grew up a happy child, in a stable and loving home. When Daniel was seven, Hugh told him the story of his adoption. In 1993, veterans from Hugh’s ship came together for a reunion, and Daniel was brought in as a “surprise guest.” The men were thrilled to see him, thrilled that their little boy the child they had cared for had grown to be a fine man. They all felt they had a part in raising him. (3)
It’s amazing how a baby can change your life. But one baby changed all our lives. “A light shines in the darkness . . .”
It is the darkest part of the night that we are most prone to see the light of God. When the world needed him most, Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea. But it is also true in our lives, when we need the light of God the most, is when we are most likely to see that light.
James W. Moore tells a wonderful story about a man who was experiencing darkness in his life. The man had suffered from a stroke which affected both his legs, one arm, and most of his speech. He was frustrated because he was unable to communicate with other people, especially his wife. His life was filled with loneliness and some anger. One day his pastor came to visit him. The pastor found it difficult to communicate with the man for very long. The pastor was tempted to ignore the man and talk to his wife, or to ask him simple questions, much as people do when talking to a baby.
As the pastor was getting ready to leave he remembered reading that some stroke victims can sing, even though they cannot talk. The pastor began singing, “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright.” It seemed like a miracle, but the man who suffered the stroke, the man who had such difficulty communicating with anyone, also began singing. There was no stuttering, no breakdown in forming words. He just sang: “Round yon virgin mother and child. Holy infant, so tender and mild.” As the man reached for his pastor’s hand to hold, his wife joined in the singing, “Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace.” “We finished,” the pastor said. The man smiled, and “God was there.” (4)
If that seems like a miracle, remember that Christmas is a time for miracles. A light shines in the darkness. The glory of the Lord shone around Shepherds on a bleak Judean hillside. A babe is born in a manger in Bethlehem. Rejoice, your light has come.
1. Diane Rayner in Christmas Memories compiled by Terry Meeuwsen (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1996), pp. 95-100.
2. http://www.sermonmall.com/SampleMall/98/dec98/122498b.html.
3. “Baby on Board,” by Michael A. Lipton and Paula Yoo, People, December 8, 1997, pp. 137- 140.
4. Is There Life After Stress? (Nashville: Dimensions in Living, 1992), pp. 72- 73.