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| Calvary Episcopal Church, Rockdale x SERMON Christmas - Feast of the Nativity December 24, 2006 x The Rev. Robert C. Granfeldt |
Well, here we are, at last! Christmas! The wonderful Feast of the Nativity!
To those of you who were here, this morning, observing the 4th Sunday of advent, that may
seem an odd thing for me to say because you’ll recall that I commented on how fast time seems
to fly as we get older – how it seems like just a few months ago when we were here like this
celebrating Last Christmas. And here we are again, already. So what is it: already or at last?
But while time is flying for us old folks, I recall at the same time how, for children (and I recall
because, believe it or not, I once Was a children, myself!)…, for children it seems like it takes
Forever for Christmas to get here! But quick or slow –here, it is!
And, if you were here this morning, you also heard me speak about the complaints we’ve been
hearing for some years, now, about how we observe Christmas– starting with the complaints
about the commercialization of Christmas!
In more recent years, too, a kind of slogan has become popular in response, as we keep
hearing how important it is to remember “the reason for the season!”
But I don’t think the reason for the season really is what the people who say that think it is.
The reason for the season isn’t a baby, lying in a manger. It isn’t Angels singing to shepherds.
Nor is it a star in the sky, or wise men traveling from afar. The reason for the Season – the Real
reason – comes much later. In fact, it comes much, much, much later! And I have a little story I’d
like to share with you that, in its own, odd little way, illustrates, by its moral, what Christmas
really is all about:
'Twas the day before Christmas and every mouse in the house was happily thinking about the
upcoming feast – the very feast they were watching being prepared as they peeked out of their
little mouse hole. For tomorrow, after the family – and the family cat as well, of course – had
feasted on that wonderful holiday food with all the trimmings, they would collectively collapse
into a calorie-induced daze, barely able to stay awake, let alone move. And the mice knew that
they would soon decide, as they did every year, to put all the leftovers away… the next
morning. Why, one year the lady of the house had even left the refrigerator door slightly ajar.
What a Christmas that was!
By Christmas morning, the mouse king and his eldest son were into the planning and
preparation phase; and everything was looking pret-ty good. The lady of the house had come
in from the grocery store on Christmas Eve with sacks and sacks of groceries, the preliminary
preparations had been done, and now, still early in the day – after Church, of course, for family,
cat and mouse – now, pleasant odors were filling not only the kitchen, but the whole house,
including the mouse holes!.
"I think it's going to be a good one," said the leader of the mice to his son, sniffing the air. "No,
not a good one; a great one."
"I just hope she didn't get that Swiss cheese with so many holes in it," said the young mouse;
"What a waste! By the way, Pop, who's taking care of the cat this year?"
"You are, son," said his father, proudly, "you’re old enough now, and you’ve been watching
how it’s done for years. Just add the usual amount of sleeping potion to his catnip; so when he
takes a nip, he'll be out like a light."
Well, unfortunately, when the holiday dinner was done, and all the humans had collapsed, as
always, either the son forgot to lace the catnip, or else the cat forgot to take a nip. In any case,
when the mice came out for the feast the cat was feeling stuffed, but he still had one eye open,
and he watched the mice very carefully as they descended upon the leftovers.
Finally, the cat judged that the time was just right, and pounced… sort of. You see, though he
hadn’t had the magic catnip, having eaten all he had intended to eat, and more, and with just
one eye open, the pounce was a little on the short side. Well, okay – it wasn’t even close! And
the mice ran! They ran and they quickly took refuge in… the empty belly of the Christmas turkey.
"What do we do now, pop?" asked the mouse king's son, a worried look coming over his face.
"Well, we've been in worse situations before," said the father, as he peered out the rear end
of the bird, looking directly into one large, mean-looking cat-eye. But then, looking around at
the beautifully roasted turkey that surrounded them, he said, "well, least we won't starve."
However, he also knew that the longer they stayed where they were, and the longer they ate
from the bird that was their refuge, the less would be their protection. He thought for a while,
twirling his whiskers with one paw, then said to his son, "Why don't you tunnel out the neck,
and run for cover; and when the cat chases after you, we'll escape out the back end."
The son wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he nodded obediently. It was some of the
most delicious tunneling he had ever done! But he knew he should go easy on his tunnelings,
because when the time came, it wouldn’t do to be too full ‘cause he’d have to scamper away
very quickly.
Which, finally, having tunneled right through, he did. He scampered!
Well, the cat spotted him in an instant, and – still overly filled from the great feast – raced after
him, gaining quickly, when suddenly – with both cat eyes now opened wide, and one paw
clutching his breast – the cat collapsed on the floor. His ninth life, alas, was up!
Well, safe, now, but moved by the terrible tragedy they’d just witnessed, the mice continued
the feast… as a memorial service for the cat.
And when it was over, all the mice said that it was the “very bestest” Christmas they'd ever had.
And the moral of that story is: It's nice when things end happily ever after – even if it’s just for
the mice.
And of course, that’s really the reason for the Season. That’s really what Christmas is all about!
That is – in the long, long, long run: because Christ was born on Christmas night, we will ALL
live happily, happily, happily ever after…, and FOREVER!
In the Name of the Father, and of the one whose birth we celebrate this night, and the Holy
Spirit. Amen.
To those of you who were here, this morning, observing the 4th Sunday of advent, that may
seem an odd thing for me to say because you’ll recall that I commented on how fast time seems
to fly as we get older – how it seems like just a few months ago when we were here like this
celebrating Last Christmas. And here we are again, already. So what is it: already or at last?
But while time is flying for us old folks, I recall at the same time how, for children (and I recall
because, believe it or not, I once Was a children, myself!)…, for children it seems like it takes
Forever for Christmas to get here! But quick or slow –here, it is!
And, if you were here this morning, you also heard me speak about the complaints we’ve been
hearing for some years, now, about how we observe Christmas– starting with the complaints
about the commercialization of Christmas!
In more recent years, too, a kind of slogan has become popular in response, as we keep
hearing how important it is to remember “the reason for the season!”
But I don’t think the reason for the season really is what the people who say that think it is.
The reason for the season isn’t a baby, lying in a manger. It isn’t Angels singing to shepherds.
Nor is it a star in the sky, or wise men traveling from afar. The reason for the Season – the Real
reason – comes much later. In fact, it comes much, much, much later! And I have a little story I’d
like to share with you that, in its own, odd little way, illustrates, by its moral, what Christmas
really is all about:
'Twas the day before Christmas and every mouse in the house was happily thinking about the
upcoming feast – the very feast they were watching being prepared as they peeked out of their
little mouse hole. For tomorrow, after the family – and the family cat as well, of course – had
feasted on that wonderful holiday food with all the trimmings, they would collectively collapse
into a calorie-induced daze, barely able to stay awake, let alone move. And the mice knew that
they would soon decide, as they did every year, to put all the leftovers away… the next
morning. Why, one year the lady of the house had even left the refrigerator door slightly ajar.
What a Christmas that was!
By Christmas morning, the mouse king and his eldest son were into the planning and
preparation phase; and everything was looking pret-ty good. The lady of the house had come
in from the grocery store on Christmas Eve with sacks and sacks of groceries, the preliminary
preparations had been done, and now, still early in the day – after Church, of course, for family,
cat and mouse – now, pleasant odors were filling not only the kitchen, but the whole house,
including the mouse holes!.
"I think it's going to be a good one," said the leader of the mice to his son, sniffing the air. "No,
not a good one; a great one."
"I just hope she didn't get that Swiss cheese with so many holes in it," said the young mouse;
"What a waste! By the way, Pop, who's taking care of the cat this year?"
"You are, son," said his father, proudly, "you’re old enough now, and you’ve been watching
how it’s done for years. Just add the usual amount of sleeping potion to his catnip; so when he
takes a nip, he'll be out like a light."
Well, unfortunately, when the holiday dinner was done, and all the humans had collapsed, as
always, either the son forgot to lace the catnip, or else the cat forgot to take a nip. In any case,
when the mice came out for the feast the cat was feeling stuffed, but he still had one eye open,
and he watched the mice very carefully as they descended upon the leftovers.
Finally, the cat judged that the time was just right, and pounced… sort of. You see, though he
hadn’t had the magic catnip, having eaten all he had intended to eat, and more, and with just
one eye open, the pounce was a little on the short side. Well, okay – it wasn’t even close! And
the mice ran! They ran and they quickly took refuge in… the empty belly of the Christmas turkey.
"What do we do now, pop?" asked the mouse king's son, a worried look coming over his face.
"Well, we've been in worse situations before," said the father, as he peered out the rear end
of the bird, looking directly into one large, mean-looking cat-eye. But then, looking around at
the beautifully roasted turkey that surrounded them, he said, "well, least we won't starve."
However, he also knew that the longer they stayed where they were, and the longer they ate
from the bird that was their refuge, the less would be their protection. He thought for a while,
twirling his whiskers with one paw, then said to his son, "Why don't you tunnel out the neck,
and run for cover; and when the cat chases after you, we'll escape out the back end."
The son wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he nodded obediently. It was some of the
most delicious tunneling he had ever done! But he knew he should go easy on his tunnelings,
because when the time came, it wouldn’t do to be too full ‘cause he’d have to scamper away
very quickly.
Which, finally, having tunneled right through, he did. He scampered!
Well, the cat spotted him in an instant, and – still overly filled from the great feast – raced after
him, gaining quickly, when suddenly – with both cat eyes now opened wide, and one paw
clutching his breast – the cat collapsed on the floor. His ninth life, alas, was up!
Well, safe, now, but moved by the terrible tragedy they’d just witnessed, the mice continued
the feast… as a memorial service for the cat.
And when it was over, all the mice said that it was the “very bestest” Christmas they'd ever had.
And the moral of that story is: It's nice when things end happily ever after – even if it’s just for
the mice.
And of course, that’s really the reason for the Season. That’s really what Christmas is all about!
That is – in the long, long, long run: because Christ was born on Christmas night, we will ALL
live happily, happily, happily ever after…, and FOREVER!
In the Name of the Father, and of the one whose birth we celebrate this night, and the Holy
Spirit. Amen.
| The story told, here (with liberties taken): © 1998 George J. Seidel With much appreciation and many thanks to Mr. Seidel. |