​Meditation
 
Those of you who know me know that I used to own a business. And here is what I know to be true:
 
One hundred people could tell me in one day how much they loved my business.
 
And still, if one person left a bad review or complained or said we were horrible, it was a lot easier to believe that one person than it was to believe the 100 others who loved us.
 
Studies show that it takes five positive messages to outweigh one negative message.
 
And yet, what do we get when we turn on our TV, or open social media, or glance at the news headlines?
 
Usually, it’s negative messages. Often, it’s not just negative messages, but it is messages of fear rather than hope or positivity.
 
In today’s world, it’s easy to believe that fear is louder than good news.
 
Fearful messages spread quickly, echo loudly, and linger longer than positive messages.
 
In a media world driven by algorithms and attention, fear thrives because it sells. It taps into our survival instincts.
 
We want to share fearful news because it makes us feel better to know that others are seeing it, too.
 
We cling to fear, whether we know it or not, and certainly whether we like it or not.
 
So, when the angel says to the shepherds in their field on that night long ago, “Do not be afraid,” and then declares, “good news of great joy for all people,” it’s not merely a sentimental moment.
 
It’s a revolutionary moment.
 
Here, good news is not Caesar’s victory, but God's vulnerability—made flesh in a newborn wrapped in bands of cloth and laid in a manger.
 
Good news may not always seem like it is louder than fear. But that’s the tension that we live in.
 
Like Mary—young, uncertain, and asked to carry more than she could have imagined.
 
Like Joseph—choosing to show up, even when it costs him reputation and comfort.
 
Like the shepherds—shaken awake in the night by glory and confusion.
 
The fear was real, and the risk was real.
 
The circumstances of Jesus’ birth—poverty, displacement, estrangement—are not erased by the angel’s song.
 
And yet, the good news comes anyway.
 
It comes with sound—loud and full of light.
 
It comes with bodies—angels taking up space in the sky, shepherds running through streets proclaiming glory, and Mary holding pain and promise in her arms.
 
It comes through fear, not after it.
 
Luke’s story insists that the good news of God
has weight and presence.
 
But it needs to be amplified. Proclaimed.
 
In a world where fear is curated and fed to us, proclaiming good news is a countercultural act.
 
In a world that tells marginalized communities to be quiet, that punishes joy and rage alike, joy becomes resistance.
 
The shepherds returned glorifying and praising God—they essentially became the first evangelists.
 
They tell anyone who will listen.
 
And the good news spreads—not through Caesar’s decrees, but through trembling, joyful witnesses.
 
Tonight, we are invited to do the same.
 
Not because our fear is gone—but because good news still breaks in.
 
Even when it’s quiet. Even when it’s messy. Even when it feels like the darkness will never end.
 
So let us proclaim the good news loudly.
 
Let us make space for joy that shakes the walls.
 
Let us resist fear’s domination by bearing witness to light, to peace, to Christ among us.
 
Because tonight, we remember:
 
Fear may be loud, but love is louder.
 
Violence may be strong, but hope is stronger.
 
And the good news—God is here—will not be silenced. Amen.
 
God of yesterday, today and tomorrow, we long to catch a glimpse of your Spirit. We cup our ears to hear the sound of the angel chorus. We turn our eyes toward the sky to see if we can find your star. We lean forward in our seat to see if we can feel your presence in our midst.  
 
We long to catch a glimpse of your Spirit, O God. So on this quiet night, on this holy night, on this joyful night, thank you for revealing yourself to us once more. Thank you for speaking to us through the music and the children.
 
Thank you for speaking to us through starlight and candlelight.
 
With gratitude, we catch a glimpse of you tonight and we feel your love. Amen.

​How many of you see those five photos and see five examples of the beauty of God’s creation?
 
Now, how many of you look in the mirror every day and see yet another example of the beauty of God’s creation looking back at you?
 
It is interesting that as human beings, we tend to see the beauty in all of God’s creation when we look at the natural world, but when we look at ourselves, all we see are all our flaws.
 
When we see animals or plants – even somewhat ugly ones – we can still see God’s hand in their being.
 
Even things like mushrooms and knotted old trees, mangy coyotes and bumpy toads can be appreciated as part of God’s vast and beautiful plan for creation.
 
And yet, we struggle to look at ourselves and think that we are worthy of that same appreciation as part of God’s grand creation.
 
We look at our wrinkles, or our grey hairs, our excess body weight, our crooked teeth or anything else about our appearance and we think that there is no way we were created perfectly just the way we are.
 
Why do we believe it about the natural world, but not about ourselves?
 
I am here to tell you today that no matter how insignificant or imperfect we may feel, we are intimately known and dearly loved by God.
 
God calls us by name for a purpose, and we are each a blessing in God’s eyes.
 
We are also each a blessing to others in our own unique ways, and God wants us to believe that about ourselves.
 
Each grey hair and wrinkle and every crooked tooth is God’s reminder that we are special in this world. Our unique features and personality traits are part of the beauty of God’s creation just as much as any other part of the natural world is.
 
God’s love knows your name. God has shown us throughout scripture and throughout history that God uses perfectly imperfect people to do good in the world all the time.
 
Shepherds, for example, were low-wage workers who were undervalued and sometimes considered dangerous, yet they were essential to Bethlehem’s economy.
 
Shepherds kept to the outside of town, guiding their flocks to water and pasture, protecting them from predators and thieves.
 
And yet, these people who likely saw themselves as imperfect, lowly, or insignificant were brought the message of the angel, nonetheless.
 
The message they received was personalized and intimate, and I imagine they were quite surprised when the angel said, “I am bringing you good news,” and “this will be a sign for you.”
 
The shepherds very likely wondered what kind of trick was being played on them, that an angel would bring them, of all people, a sign and good news.
 
And yet, that’s exactly what happened.
 
Just like God used Mary, an unwed teenager from Galilee, to carry and raise Jesus the Messiah, God used Shepherds to bring the good news of the Messiah’s birth.
 
And God uses us to do good work in our world, in this time and place.
 
God is LOVE, and LOVE knows your name.
 
You are a blessing, and God calls you by name to do the good work that is yours to do.
 
Tomorrow as you are getting yourselves ready for whatever your Christmas Day celebrations bring, take a moment to look in the mirror and love the face and body that looks back at you.
 
See the beauty in the being that is just as much a part of God’s beautiful creation as every other living thing on Earth.
 
Tell that person staring back at you that you are a blessing, and that God calls you by name.
 
And, perhaps most importantly, remind the person looking back at you that God is LOVE, and LOVE knows your name.
 
God knows you completely and loves you fully. As you draw near to Jesus, rest assured that you are not a mere face in the crowd but a beloved child of God, known and called by name. In light of this glorious truth, may you be a bearer of peace and love today and forevermore. Amen.
 
God of new beginnings, Our hearts are full to the brim. In a world with long nights and cold winters, in a world that constantly feels like it is ending, we need this new beginning. We need this story of a baby wrapped in swaddling cloth, lying in a manger. We need this story of the angels and the shepherds. We need Mary’s song and Joseph's faith. We need this night to remember how to begin again. So with hope in our hearts and love in our veins, we pray in your Holy name. Amen.
 
 
Sermon References:
Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.
Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.