Friday, December 25, 2020                (today’s lectionary)
Christmas Day
Come on, ring those bells!
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Upon those who lived in the land of gloom a light has shone. You have brought them abundant joy.
Who better than Charles Dickens, just 31 years old in 1843, to shed light on Christmas? Who better than Tiny Tim, a crippled tyke carried around on the shoulders of his father Bob Cratchit, to inspire those around him in London’s dingy industrial streets? Just a little dickens of a boy, that Tiny Tim, even eager to show his disability to the world, especially on Christmas Day:
“Sometimes he gets thoughtful,” his father said, “sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk and blind men see.”
Like every author, Charles Dickens had to wait to know the names of his characters. How did he happen upon the name of Tiny Tim, who was at first known as Little Fred?
For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.
This baby, this Jesus, this tiny child that a strong wind could blow away, this Tiny Jesus grows up strong? Meek and mild? Able to leap tall buildings with a single bound? What is the nature of power – dare we ask it? No one but God can answer.
Let all creation rejoice before the Lord, for he comes to judge the world in righteousness and the peoples in his faithfulness. Let us await the blessed hope, the appearance of the glory of our great God and savior Jesus Christ.
Around the Cratchit Christmas Table, as Mrs. Cratchit plunges her carving knife into the stuffing-filled-to-bursting breast of their gorgeous goose, Tiny Tim raises his own glass last with blessing that reaches out to rich and poor, arrogant and humble, good and bad, and embraces all God’s kids under his famous smiling words, “God bless us, every one!”
What then? Will Tiny Tim live? “If he’s going to die, he’d better do it, and decrease the surplus population!” Then Scrooge hung his head in shame, as his companion Ghost of Christmas Present reminded him of his own sarcastic words and cried, “Oh God! Just to hear the Insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust!” Mr. Dickens puts down his pen with tears of anger and grief pouring down his face. They wet the paper on his desk. For just a moment, the author can’t go on.
There were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. But the angel said, “Do not be afraid, for behold! I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.
So even as Scrooge “bent before the Ghost’s rebuke,” our hopeful Mr. Dickens heard the angels sing. What could he do but once again pick up his pen?
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth, good will toward men.”
Dickens softened toward the old man, and God’s grace fell lightly upon Ebenezer Scrooge’s shoulders, such an easy yoke to replace the heavy chains he fashioned for himself. Given God’s famous second chance, Scrooge claimed it, Scrooge rejoiced in it. Scrooge bought the biggest turkey in the shop and had it sent post haste to the Cratchit’s kitchen.
To Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world.
And so this can be my story too, right, and yours? Does God stop with Scrooge? Not on your life, cries Charles Dickens, not on your ever-loving life! God pours out both conviction and forgiveness from his never-emptied glass. Drink up this Grace, this gift of Grace, and sing. Christmas is coming, Christmas has come, Jesus will be with us always.
And Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.
(Isaiah 9, Psalm 96, Titus 2, Luke 2)
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