Sermon for Christmas Day, Dec. 25, 2025
John 1:1-14
This Gospel reading may not be what you
were expecting for your Christmas story. That came last night – the angels and the shepherds
and the baby in the manger. This
morning, we get the story from a cosmic perspective: the Word of God made flesh
and dwelling among us in glory.
In Anglo-Catholic congregations, there’s a
tradition of offering this reading every Sunday. It’s the “Last Gospel,” and it comes at the
very end of the service, even after the final blessing. You can’t miss the importance of God taking
flesh among us if it’s the last thing you hear literally every time you worship.
So, the incarnation is important, but maybe
it’s hard to know what we’re supposed to do with it. How does this amazing mystery affect my life?
Well, it’s Christmas morning. So, rather
than diving deep into a theology of the incarnation, how about a story?
Jerry the Angel wasn’t much of an angel,
really. Every time he was on the edge of
success, about to make a real difference for people, that’s when he managed to
mess it up. If you ever wondered how we found
ourselves with concrete lawn ornaments and 24-hour news channels, you can blame
that on bungled messages from Jerry the Angel.
It’s what angels do, after all – they deliver messages.
Well, when you’re an angel who’s not so
good at delivering messages, they assign you to the heavenly Office of
Salvation Research. Instead of sharing
good news of great joy, these angels go out listening to people’s opinions and
perceptions about God. Maybe you didn’t
know heaven has its own research department.
But the angels have to stay in touch with how we’re thinking so they can tell us Good News in a way we can understand
it. I mean, what would people think
these days if an army of shining, flying soldiers suddenly hovered over them in
the night, talking about a Messiah who’s come to save them? It probably wouldn’t show God’s love nearly
as well as a story on the evening news about an anonymous stranger handing out
$100 bills. Like God always says to the
angels, you’ve got to tell the story in a way folks can hear it.
Anyway, that was Jerry’s job – to go
around talking to people about how they
understand salvation. What do they think the Good News is? So, Jerry heard a lot of crazy stuff, frankly,
especially at Christmas time – like those stories about Santa’s little henchmen,
the elves, tiny spies who watch your every move. In fact, this time of year usually left Jerry
a little depressed. “Just once,” he
said, “I’d like to meet someone who really gets what the Good News is all
about.”
So, it was late afternoon on Christmas
Eve, and Jerry was on patrol. His first
stop was in a nice neighborhood – a huge, lovely home filled with guests for a
holiday party. Jerry walked down the
long driveway to the front door and rang the bell. A woman with a drink in her hand answered the
door.
“Hello?” she said, dubiously. “I’m sorry – do I know you?”
“No, ma’am,” Jerry said. “I just want a moment of your time for a
couple of quick questions.”
“Oh, not a survey!” the woman replied. I have guests!”
“It will only take a minute, really,” Jerry
said. “In fact, I’ll cut it down to just
one question.”
“All right,” the woman said, looking over
her shoulder. “Let’s get this over
with.”
“OK,” Jerry said. “What’s the Good News for you?”
“I’m sorry?” the woman asked. “The good news about what?”
“It’s Christmas,” Jerry reminded her, “when
the Word of God was made flesh and came among you. It’s the reason you’re having a party,
right? So, what’s the Good News for
you?”
“Oh, you’re one of those religious types,”
the woman said, nodding her head knowingly.
“Well, then, I’d have to say the Good News for me is … um … let’s see. I know:
God wants us to treat people nicely.
OK?”
“OK,” Jerry said. “One vote for politeness. Thanks for your time” – and the woman shut
the door in Jerry’s face. “So much for ‘nice,’”
he thought.
From there, Jerry transported himself to a
very poor neighborhood. He came to a
broken-down apartment building and passed through the locked door. He walked up to the third floor and found a
door with a laughing, plastic Santa face hung on it. “Here’s someone who at least celebrates
Christmas,” he thought. “I’ll give this
a try.” And he knocked.
A teenaged boy answered the door. Looking in, Jerry saw very little – not much
furniture, nothing on the walls. He
could hear a TV in the corner. “Wha’cha want?” the young man asked.
“Hi there,” Jerry began, trying to sound
positive. “I just want a moment of your
time for a couple of quick questions.”
“You gotta be kiddin’,” the young man
said. “Your takin’ a survey? How’d you get in here, anyway?”
“It’ll only take a second,” Jerry said. “How about just one question?”
“OK – shoot,” the young man said, looking
back over his shoulder at the TV.
“It’s Christmas Eve, right?” Jerry asked. “The night Jesus was born. So, what’s the Good News for you?”
The young man looked back at Jerry, his
eyes narrowing. “Oh, I know about Good News,” he said, bitterly. “Good News is what they call it when the
preacher says you’ll be happy if you just give God more money. Good News is what they call it when you come to
church and end up takin’ home nothin’ but empty words about how things’ll get
better if you just pray harder. Is that
the Good News you had in mind?”
Jerry began to step back from the
doorway. “Thanks a lot for your time,”
he said quickly, “and … um … have a merry … well, have a safe night.”
“OK,” Jerry thought, heading down the
stairs. “Folks can smell a lie a mile
away. So, the Good News has got to be
real.”
From there, Jerry transported himself to the
closest thing we have to a town square or Main Street in the year 2025, the
place where the locals gather from miles around: He went to Costco. There, even on Christmas Eve, Jerry had his
pick of hundreds of folks he might interview – people doing their Christmas shopping
at the last minute or stocking up for the family’s visit.
Amid all the intense shoppers going this
way and that, Jerry saw a little girl.
She was about 10, and her parents must have left her on her own for a
bit while they hunted for her present. Jerry
decided she was the one to talk to.
“Hi, Honey,” he said softly. “I want to ask you a couple of questions. Is that OK?”
“Sure,” the little girl said.
“What’s your name?” Jerry asked.
“I’m Gabriella,” the little girl
said. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Jerry, and I wish I had a name as
good and strong as yours. It’s perfect
for an angel.”
“Oh, I’m no angel,” Gabriella said. “Just ask my parents. So, what did you want to ask me?”
“Well,” Jerry began, “it’s Christmas Eve. You’re not in church, or at your
grandparents’ house, or opening presents with your family. You’re here at Costco. This is the night the angels appeared,
announcing the Good News that Jesus was born.
Do you know what that Good News is?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Gabriella said. “The Good News is right here in my cart.”
Jerry looked down and saw what the little
girl had been shopping for: Stocking caps – lots of stocking caps. There must have been 50 stocking caps in the
little girl’s cart. “Stocking caps?” Jerry
asked. “I don’t get it. Where’s the Good News in a cart full of
stocking caps?”
“Oh, it’s not about the caps exactly,” Gabriella
said. “The Good News comes when I take
the caps to church later, and we give them away for people who don’t have a
warm place to live.” She looked down at
her treasure and then looked back at Jerry.
She was beaming. “I saved up my
allowance.”
Bingo, Jerry thought. Finally, he’d found a little messenger. “So tell me why that’s Good News,” he said.
Gabriella looked at Jerry with a little
sympathy, like maybe he wasn’t very smart.
“It’s easy,” she said, again.
“Jesus came into the world long ago, on a cold night like this. Jesus is still
in the world, on a cold night like this.
He’s there in all those people
who don’t have a place to live, who can’t find any room at the inn. He loves me just like God loves me – and he’s
shivering out there in the cold. So I
need to help keep him warm, because I love him, too.” She cocked her head and looked at Jerry. “It’s not complicated. Don’t you get it?”
Jerry smiled and remembered why he loved
his job after all. “Yes, I get it,” he
said. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure,” Gabriella said. “Do you want a stocking cap?”
“No,” Jerry said. “I just want you to go and tell other people your
story.”
“I can do that,” she said, as she pushed her cart toward the check-out lane. Jerry watched as she walked away, and suddenly he found himself listening to what was playing over the Costco loudspeakers:
Hark! the herald
angels sing
glory to the
newborn King!
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