December 24, 2018—Christmas I
Luke 2:1-20
Michele
Besso was born in Zurich, Switzerland in the late 19th Century. If
you don’t know who he is, that’s okay. I didn’t until last week. Besso went to
school with Albert Einstein, imagine having Einstein as a classmate. After graduation Besso became an engineer and
later worked in a patent office in Bern, Switzerland with you guessed it,
Albert Einstein. Over the years, the two became good friends.
Besso
grew into being Einstein’s sounding board. Whenever the once-in-a-generation
physicist needed to talk about a particularly vexing problem, he would visit
Besso. Not long before Einstein’s own death, his friend died. And, when he did Einstein
wrote to Besso’s family. Part of the letter read: “Now he has departed this
strange world a little ahead of me. That signifies nothing. For us believing
physicists, the distinction between past, present and future is only a
stubbornly persistent illusion.”[1]
The distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion. In this note, Einstein hinted
at a mystery we deal with every second of our lives.
As
great a scientist as he was, Albert Einstein could never quite wrap his genius fully
around the dilemma of time. I’m not saying he couldn’t read a clock, but scientifically
explaining the flow of time and the meaning of the now escaped even this mastermind. Of course, he was in good
company, as many great thinkers throughout the ages have been mystified by the fourth
dimension. Take for example Saint Augustine, the early Christian theologian, who
wrote, “What is time? If no one asks me, I know; if I wish to explain, I do not
know. ... My soul yearns to know this most entangled enigma.” [2]
Time is an odd concept. Just try to
wrap your mind around the following…
At
11:18 AM on Wednesday, December 19th I wrote these words that I am
speaking right now, but I did so in
the present moment (aka the now). So
what I wrote and what I am speaking both happened in the now.[3]
(Even if they were five and a half days apart.) Wild, right? If that’s not
enough, try to solve this conundrum.
If the
first three dimensions are length, width, and height, and time is simply the
fourth dimension, how is it possible to stand still in space, but not time? I
know it is approximately 11:18 PM—right now—and
thinking about the time space continuum is difficult whatever time of day, still
let me ask you one more annoying question about time: When was Christ born into
this world?
On
the surface this question appears as straightforward as can be. Surely it
happened around the year 0. Christ Jesus’ birth was the event that would later
result in a societal change of our entire calendar system in the Western world,
right? So, He was born in the year 0—that’s it… final answer—at least at first
glance. But, what did the Gospel according to Luke tell us this night about
when Christ Jesus’ birth took place?
Our familiar
Christmas story begins with “In those days…” as in, sometime in the past, or “A
long, long time ago…” Then, follows a description of Emperor Augustus and Governor
Quirinus, rulers during that day. On the surface, the purpose of these names
appears simple enough. They timestamp when Jesus was born. But, like with our old
friend Einstein, time is about to get a bit more mystifying to us as well. For in
the original language “in those days,” speaks distinctly about chronological
time—like seconds, minutes, and hours which we might measure on a stopwatch. “In
those days” also points to an era that is old, tired, and fading away. The
story we heard tonight was not about what happened “in those days,” way back
when, but rather Christ Jesus’ birth is about another sort of time altogether. His
birth is about “this day”! Let me explain.
“This
day” does not only refer to the present, it also describes a completely
different way of measuring time—really it’s outside of time. In the original
language “this day” indicated a day not controlled by clocks or sundials but
belonging entirely to God. It was not chronos
like chronological time, but kairos,
as in God’s time![4]
“This day” was different. It was not tired or old or fading away, it was brand
new. For this day was the day when God changed everything forever. It was no
longer about what was happening “in those days”—days controlled by emperors, governors,
or other powers of the world—instead “this day” was about what God was doing.
What was God doing this day?
God
was coming to dwell with us. God’s descent to us lowly human beings happened
most miraculously, and yet so simply. God did not come to us as a powerful
king, regaled by dignitaries and lauded by celebrities, but rather God came to
us as a lowly child born to an unwed teenage mother who was engaged to a basic
tradesman. God made a birth announcement via angels, but those messengers did
not seek out the emperor or the governor, rather they found some nearby shepherds
keeping watch over their flocks by night. And, what did God say to those lowly
sheep herds?
God’s
words to those shepherds were “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good
news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the
Lord” (italics added for emphasis).
The heralds of Our Lord’s birth were not interested in “those days,” but
instead they announced a new day: a day when God came to all people, which is
good news of great joy not just back then, but also right now, this day! Let me ask you my annoying question again: when was
Christ born into this world?
Maybe
Einstein understood time better than I gave him credit for earlier, for he knew
that there is only a small illusion that separates past, present, and future. We
do not have to be Einstein or even Einstein’s friend to experience “this day”
and this holy night. For this holy night and every single moment of our lives is
the same moment as we heard in Luke’s story. Christ is always being born into
this world. Every moment of everyday Christ is becoming en-fleshed not in some old
story, but anew right now in our hearts and throughout our entire lives. As the
poet Emily Dickinson so succinctly put it, “Forever – is composed of Nows.”[5]
Now and always God is with us and all
people. This and every moment is God’s time. A time when God dwells more
closely with us than we can ever imagine. Anything that we think separates us
from God is merely a stubbornly persistent illusion.
“This
day,” this holy night, and always may we greet the Christ who dwells with us
forever. Amen.
[1] Dan Falk. “A Debate Over the Physics of
Time” Quanta Magazine. Published:
July 19, 2016. Accessed: December 19, 2018. https://www.quantamagazine.org/a-debate-over-the-physics-of-time-20160719/
[2] Richard A. Muller. “Now — And The Physics
Of Time” NPR Opinion Science Blog.
Published: September 27, 2016. Accessed: December 19, 2018. https://www.npr.org/sections/13.7/2016/09/27/495608371/now-and-the-physics-of-time.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Charles L. Campbell. “Luke 2:1-14(15-20)”
in Feasting on the Word, Year C Volume 1
eds. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor. (Louisville, KY: Westminster
John Knox Press, 2009). 117-121.
[5] Emily Dickinson. “Forever – is composed
of Nows – (690)” The Poems of Emily
Dickinson: Reading Edition ed. Ralph W. Franklin (Cambridge, MA.: The
Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1998) from the Poetry Foundation:
Accessed: December 24, 2018. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52202/forever-is-composed-of-nows-690
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