I learned something new this week: Christmas Eve marked 70 years that the North American Aerospace Defense Command has been tracking Santa’s sleigh. According to the story I read, it started in 1955 when a child tried to call a Santa hotline, but accidentally called this defense agency and got Colonel Harry Shoup on the line. Initially the Colonel was confused, but he recovered quickly and realized the opportunity here. From that point on they made it their responsibility to track Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve, providing regular updates on the sleigh’s location. Every year, they answer phone calls from children around the world, assuring them that all is well and Santa is on his way.
It’s a truly unique way that our military offers protection and assurance to the citizens of the world. A kinder, gentler face of our fighting forces – but apparently all in line with the image they wish to project, of defending and serving for the sake of peace and well-being.
As much as we rely on the military – for this specific purpose as well as many other ways they serve – we know on Christmas Eve that there are even bigger movements afoot. On this night we remember how God moved into the world to usher in the divine reign of peace – a peace that no human efforts can create or even imagine.
On this night we remember when God moved into a neighborhood that had been longing for peace for thousands of years.
The story of this night, the story of God’s coming, takes us to Bethlehem, a place far away from here, but not all that different. When we think of Bethlehem we tend to think of our creches, with the baby in the manger, the shepherds and magi worshiping the babe, Mary and Joseph reveling in the holy mystery, the angels watching from above, the animals of the fields at peace amongst all these visitors. They sit on our mantelpiece or our table.
But we know that Bethlehem is a real place that has been in existence for thousands of years, in a region of the world that has known almost continual strife, with rival powers seeking to control the land and the people there. A little town that stands in the shadow of an important city, which itself has been subject to much tension and violence. This is the place where God chose to touch earth. Bethlehem, the house of bread.
There is a family in Bethlehem who has farmed in the region for over a hundred years. Their name is Nassar; they are Palestinian Christians. On 100 acres they have grown olives, figs, almonds, apricots, grapes, and even wheat. They have lived and worked here through numerous shifts in governing powers: from the Ottoman Empire, to the British Empire, then Jordan, and now Israel.
The Nassar family has endured the challenges of these shifts and turns: instability, violence, constant uncertainty. They have been witnesses to all the violence surrounding them, and have, themselves, been subject to many threats and violent acts. But through it all, they remember they are children of the Prince of Peace, living in the place where he was born. Their faith leads them to say they will not be a part of the violence and hate. They refuse to be enemies.
They choose to practice hospitality – to everyone. No matter who comes to their farm, no matter what their intentions, the Nassars respond with invitation. They offer tea and a shady spot to sit and conversation. Every time they welcome someone to their farm, the conversation comes around to some of the things Jesus taught, such as, “blessed are the peacemakers.”
They work for peace with every tree they plant, every grape vine they cultivate, every cup of tea they serve. It is slow work. But truly good work.
This path of peace they have chosen, and recommit to every day, is the path that God began in Jesus, from the time the angel spoke to Mary and Joseph and the shepherds in the fields; from the time Mary lay her newborn on a bed of straw; from the time those Magi in the east saw a new star and knew this was something they had to watch and follow, something that would inaugurate a new era. They knew, also, that if Herod had his chance he would try hard to destroy it, and so they wisely didn’t let him have his chance.
Yes, it is slow work. But truly good work.
This is the good news of Christmas: God loved the world enough to send us his beloved Son and show this world a different way. God took on flesh and bone and blood to give hope to a weary and disillusioned world. God chose all these most unlikely people – lowly shepherds of the field, a carpenter, an unwed teenage girl, and some foreigners who studied the stars – these are the people God chose to bring hope into the world.
This is what draws us together to worship in the darkness of Christmas Eve. And in coming together, aren’t we saying that we are a part of this tradition too? We are among the ones God has chosen to bring hope to the world.
This is a story for all of us. Because the world is harmed by power and greed and hatred, but the world may be healed by us, offering the peace of Christ, bringing Shalom, changing the world for good, one person at a time.
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