Christmas Eve Morning Worship (order of service attached, or watch here)
Rev. Laura Everett, Preaching
December 24, 2025
Luke 2:1-14
2 In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered. 4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place in the guest room.[a]
8 Now in that same region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah,[b] the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host,[c] praising God and saying,
14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
First the terror, then the good news.
I wish it were otherwise, beloved.
I so wish it were otherwise.
With every fiber of my being, I wish we did not have to endure the terror.
You know it. You know the terror of the hospital room, the waiting room, the panic attack. You know the terror of the watching and waiting for a loved one. The uncertain diagnosis. Your own uncertainty. What you thought would be, and is not now, and may never be.
We were sold a myth of milk and honey, a promised land, and instead too many of us are falling too short, too scared, too in debt, too far behind.
First the terror, and when is the good news? How long, O Lord?
Our scripture frequently tells stories of terror: two were in the field, and one went missing. Two were in the kitchen and one disappeared. Two were laboring and one was gone. First, the terror. Keep awake, for you do not know the hour, scripture says. Some days, beloved, I don’t know the difference between faithful watchfulness and overwhelming anxiety.
I don’t know whether or not there are really 365 times in the Bible when God says, “Be not afraid,” and it doesn’t help me to count them in the middle of the night when I’m lying awake thinking about all the things I can’t control. About my friend who will lose her job in June because her country was just put on a list so she is now considered dangerous, even though she is a doctor seeking to heal people from addiction. About friends whose status changes in February, and what they will do after building lives here over decades. About my disabled family member who will lose their health care subsidies in January, even though they are so sick they can’t work. About a friend’s brother who if he catches the flu will likely die. About how much my stupid jaw hurts because I’m “holding too much stress.” So shouting “Be Not Afraid” doesn’t make me less afraid, even when it is God Almighty is doing the shouting.
Are you with me, Church?
Beloved, there are real things to fear.
I don’t need to tell you it is bad now, and it was bad then.
It was bad for the shepherds.
I think about those shepherds, keeping watch in the fields with their flocks by night. On guard against all harms. Thieves, wolves, weather. Sickness, rocks, cliffs and bramble. Hunger and thirst. More danger than we could imagine.
The Gospel writer Luke recalls, “Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.”
Out of the sky comes an angel shouting, in some divine tongue: “Be Not Afraid.”
In Haitian Creole: Ou pa bezwen peur
Or Spanish: No tengan miedo.
Or in Hebrew: Al tea-rah (אַל־תִּירָא)
Or in Greek: Μὴφο¦βεῖσ¦θε, (Më PhoBeö Thẽ)
Or Arabic: laa takhafee لا تخاف
Or in Gullah Guechee: “Mus dohn feah!
I don’t know what celestial language angels speak, but I have to imagine that the Jewish shepherds understood whatever was being said to them, because they followed. Whatever terror they felt, however overwhelmed they were, they went to Bethlehem.
First the terror, then the good news.
Our God comes to us in the terror of our lives. We are not abandoned.
And for most of us, most of the time, I think we’ve skipped over this detail, this small, almost insignificant line of scripture. For those who are terrified, God comes in the way that they can most easily recognize.
In verse 12, the angle says, “This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth.”
Church, God comes to shepherds wrapped in wool, but not just any wool- strip cloth. Not a whole blanket for fancy people, but strips, like on a backstrap loom, something made by those who would be nomadic, who are migrants, who live on the margins.
Our God comes to us in the way that is most familiar to us.
“This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth.” To shepherds watching over sheep, they will find the Messiah not as a forceful ruler clad in iron armor or a regal king draped in luxury silk. The shepherds will find the Christ child wrapped in strips of wool cloth, the very labor of their own hands, vulnerable and lying in the trough for their sheep. This king comes not with force, not with vengeance, but with peace. This prince comes not with might but with mercy. For those who feel left out, left behind, cast aside, this god comes to them, exactly where they are.
In the ancient world, cloth was a sign of wealth and prestige, so valuable it was traded like money. The promised messiah, the hopes and fears of all the years? This Messiah was coming in the bands of cloth, made with the very work of their hands. The Messiah is coming to them, like them, a migrant in exhile.
Yes, the terror. There is no denying that. And the good news. Beloved, this is the good news. We are never alone. This is our God, who never leaves nor forsakes us. There is no where we can go where God cannot find us. There is nowhere terror can God that God is not already with us.
To the shepherds, to the desolate, to the despondent, to the detained, to each of us here: Our Savior promises to come among us. None of us is left alone. We are given a different way. We are offered a different path. We are promised life abundant with the One who is the prince of peace, the wonderful counselor, Almighty God, who chooses to be born not among the high and lofty, but in a lowly manger. Who makes sure to send the message out into the field, to the parking lot. Who makes sure to tell you, to tell all the people:
Yes, there is the terror, But I bring you the good news. So,
Be not afraid.
Be not afraid.
Be not afraid.
No tengan miedo.
No tengan miedo.
No tengan miedo.
Amen.
Amen.
Amen.
(Thanks for reading to the end- if this is Church you are proud of, consider supporting Massachusetts Council of Churches and our immigrant ministry which organized the Christmas Eve Service)
RevEverett 