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| God moves in down the street and wonders, "Won't you be my neighbor?" |
This sermon was preached on Christmas Eve at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. The readings above, as well as the life of Fred Rogers guided this message. A video of the sermon may be viewed here.
Holy God, may my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.
The Reverend Fred Rogers—better known as Mr. Rogers—was once asked why his television show had such a lasting impact, why children—and adults—felt seen by it in a way few programs ever managed. His answer was simple.
He said that whenever someone came into his studio—child or adult, guest or stranger—he tried to imagine a sign hanging around their neck that read:
Please do not judge me.
Please try to understand me.
I am doing the best I can.
And then he said something even more striking.
He believed that the greatest gift he could offer another person was not advice, not correction, not even answers to life’s big questions…
The greatest gift he could give was his presence.
Because when someone stays long enough…
listens without rushing…
refuses to abandon another to fear or shame…
something quietly but permanently shifts.
When someone shows up for us in this way…
We begin to breathe differently.
We begin to trust.
We begin to hope.
We feel connected.
We feel seen.
It is yes, a human interaction, but it is also divine.
When someone honors us in this way, it is as though the interior mansions of our lives—our very souls—begin to be remodeled.
The furniture gets rearranged.
New space opens up within, between, and among us.
Not so that we will have more capacity—
but so that God might dwell with us… within us.
That God and we might dance together… living not just around each other, but with one another.
Tonight, we celebrate not a passing presence, but a dwelling one.
On this Holy Night, we remember that God did not create the world, then retreat from it.
On Christmas Eve we marvel at the truth:
God came close.
God made a home among us.
God moved into our neighborhood,
And asked, won’t you be my neighbor?
The Gospel writer Saint Matthew picks up the Prophet Isaiah’s divine name for our God-turned-neighbor calling Jesus—Emmanuel meaning: God-with-us.
How and where did God-With-Us choose to be our neighbor?
Returning to our Gospel lesson for tonight, Saint Luke is clear: God did not enter in myth or legend, but in the middle of history.
Note the details:
A census.
A journey.
An occupied people.
A world where power is held tightly by the few…
Messy and much like our own day.
Isaiah names this reality plainly: darkness.
Not just night, but despair.
Not just fear, but exhaustion.
And into that world—not a perfect one, not a healed one, not a deserving one—into our world, a child is born.
Not in a palace.
Not behind walls of protection.
Not at the center of wealth or influence.
But in a place meant for livestock (our equine and bovine neighbors).
God-With-Us arrives in complete vulnerability.
And friends, that is a crucial ingredient in the miracle of Christmas.
But, it’s not all of it. For elsewhere in Holy Scripture, we read something else essential about God’s entering into our world.
In the First Letter of John, we are told plainly: God is love.
Which means that if God is love,
then God-With-Us is also Love-With-Us.
Not as a feeling.
Not as an idea.
But as a person.
Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ, the Messiah, the Savior and Redeemer of the World.
John will later put it more poetically:
The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
God-With-Us did not hover at a distance.
Love-With-Us stayed with us.
However, if you follow the story long enough…
You may wonder, But Seth what about the Ascension? Didn’t Jesus leave then?
As we remember, God coming to be with us, it’s only good and right to also ponder what about when God seemingly left us.
And here our siblings in Orthodox Christianity offer a striking legend.
This old story from the Church of the East imagines that as the risen Christ Jesus ascended into heaven, the apostles—still afraid of being left behind—reached out and clung to him. They held onto his feet. And as Christ rose, they held onto one another, forming a living chain between earth and heaven.
As they climbed higher and higher, Christ Jesus did not shake them loose. I think that is because in the Incarnation, God brought heaven to earth—making ordinary human life holy, and in the Ascension, Jesus forever bound earth to heaven—not by leaving us behind, but by drawing our very humanity to the right hand of God the Father, into the very Divine life of the Trinitarian Community.
Even the Ascension, then, is not a story of departure, abandonment, or absence. It is a story of communion.
This means that tonight, we do not simply remember a birth. We proclaim an eternal presence.
God-With-Us is here.
God-With-Us has always been here.
God-With-Us will not abandon us.
And in a few moments, that same God-With-Us will come to us again—
not as an idea to be considered,
not as a metaphor to be decoded,
but as bread and wine.
Ordinary elements.
Everyday food.
The kind of things that sustain life and mark celebration.
And in them, God reminds us that divine presence is not reserved for mountaintops or holy moments alone,
but is woven into daily nourishment and quiet abundance.
Even now, God is choosing nearness…
Still choosing to dwell with us—
hidden in plain sight at this table, yes…
and revealed again and again in the world we inhabit.
God-With-Us meets us in the faces of friends and family,
in the love of those seated beside us,
and in the tenderness we offer and receive.
God-With-Us also resides in the stranger who needs our care,
in the neighbor who carries a burden we cannot see,
and yes—even in the one who challenges us, resists us, or stands opposed to us.
Because God-With-Us is not only among us—
Love-With-Us is within us, all of us.
The same God who called creation into being,
the same God who holds all things together,
is here—
now—
with and within each one of you, each one of us.
So, hear the good news of this Holy Night:
You are not alone.
You have never been alone.
And God will reside with you forever.
For we have an attuned God loving us.
We have the gift of God’s divine love within us.
We have within us an everlasting spring of a Love so abundant that the heavens could not contain them on their own…
So, Love spilled over forming and inhabiting all of Creation…
Because God eternally gives not only divine presence—but also stays with us in an everlasting relationship…
Staying, abiding, refusing to leave—that is who God is.
And, when Christ Jesus came among us, we were given another sign to hang around our necks. This one reads:
God loves me.
God understands me.
God knows I am doing my best.
For God is with you in your joy and in your weariness,
in your hope and in your doubt,
in this moment and in every moment still to come.
God-With-Us came to be in relationship with you and with us. Love-With-Us came to dwell among us—and never left.
Emmanuel has moved into the neighborhood, and he is wondering:
Won’t you be my neighbor?
Won’t you be one another’s neighbor?
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