A Sermon by Pastor Tom Lacey . . .

JOY

Luke 2:15-20, Preached at Congregational Church of Boca Raton, Christmas Eve, 2007

It was the first day of school after Christmas break, and the school teacher asked the children to tell the class how they spent Christmas. The first boy said, "We are Roman Catholics, so we opened our presents, then we went to midnight mass." A little girl answered, "We are Protestants, so we went to Carols by Candlelight, then we opened our presents." Another little boy piped up: "We are Buddhists, so we all got into the car and went down to my Daddy's supermarket. He showed us the empty shelves. He showed us the money. Then we joined hands and sang, 'What a Friend We Have in Jesus'!" My apologies to our Buddhist friends here tonight. I guess you could put any non-Christian store owner in there.

The Christmas story is about joy—“a great joy for all people.” There are a lot of ways to be happy, but to have great joy takes something special. We are happy when we are excited, or entertained, or make a quick buck, or crack a funny joke or hear one. But when it comes to joy, it’s a little different. Actually, if you think about all four of the Advent virtues, as they may be called, hope, peace, love, and joy, they have something in common. They are all one syllable words. Probably not what you were expecting me to say, but this is important. They are simple words, with five letters being the most. You see, that’s because we don’t put at the center of our Christian or Christmas life a bunch of complicated ideas. Christmas isn’t about optimism, calmness, affection, and happiness. Besides, they wouldn’t make good banners. They are simply: Hope, peace, love, and joy. God makes it simple, so that we all can get it and we can all do it.

Sometimes simple doesn’t seem as simple as it truly is, which reminds me of the story of a noted psychiatrist who was at a Christmas party. Trying to break the ice, the host naturally brought up a subject in which the doctor was most at ease. "Would you mind telling me, Doctor how you detect a mental deficiency in somebody who appears completely normal?" "Nothing is easier," he replied. "You ask him a simple question which everyone should answer with no trouble. If he hesitates, that puts you on the track." "What sort of question?" "Well, you might say, 'Captain Cook made three trips around the world and died during one of them. Which one?"  The man hesitated and then said with a nervous laugh, "You wouldn't happen to have another example would you? I must confess I don't know much about history." To find real joy, it takes something simple and special. As Scripture says, “Be glad in the Lord.” Ps.32:11 Simply be glad not in your abilities, wealth or looks, but be glad in God, and who God is. There is nobody more special than the Lord. So look not to what makes you happy for the moment or even for a night. Seek after what will change your heart. Be transformed by doing what is good and best. As Scripture says, “Shout for joy, all you who are upright in heart.” Ps.32:11

What we want to see this Christmas Eve is that the path to joy is a simple four letter word: Give.

I want to share a story with you about George or Old George as he was known. Old George sat in his gas station on a cold and very snowy Christmas Eve. He had no decorations, no tree, no lights, no anymore since his wife had died. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting there, wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through. Instead of throwing the man out, he told the man to come and sit by the space heater and warm-up. He opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew. Made it myself. When you're done there's coffee."

Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me.” There in the driveway was an old 53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister, can you help me!" said the driver with a deep accent. "My wife is pregnant and my car just broke." George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold. "You’re not going in this thing," George said as he turned away. "Please help...." George went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He opened the garage, started the truck and drove it to where the couple was waiting. "You can borrow my truck," he said. "She isn't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real fine." George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. George went to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been.

As he was working on it he heard a shot fired. He ran outside and a police officer was down beside his car, bleeding from his left shoulder. George helped him inside all the while remembering the training he had received in the Army as a medic. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. He found some clean towels and a roll of duct tape and taped them to his shoulder. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anything,” trying to make the policeman feel at ease. He eased him into a chair. "You hang in there now. I'm going to get you an ambulance," but with all the snow, the phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on the radio out in your police car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio. George sat down beside him and pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. It had slowed.

 It was then that the front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Now!" His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.

"That's the guy that shot me!" said the officer.

"Son, why are you doing this?" George asked. "You need to put that gun away. Somebody else might get hurt."

The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"

The cop was reaching for his gun.

"Put that thing away," George said to the cop. "We got one too many in here already." He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need the money, here. It isn't much but it's all I got. Now put that away." George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, slowly reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time.

The young man hesitated and then released his grip on the gun and began to cry. "All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and boy," he went on. "I've lost my job. My rent is overdue. My car got repossessed last week...."

George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then but we make it through the best we can." He sat him down on a chair across from the cop, and gave him a cup of coffee. “Comin' in here with a gun isn't the answer."

The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm really sorry, officer."

"Shut up and drink your coffee," the cop said. George could hear the sounds of sirens outside.

Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"

"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.

"I don't know,” Chuck answered. “The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran." George and the young man looked at each other puzzled. "That guy works here," the wounded cop continued.

"Yep," George said. "Just hired him this morning."

The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop, "Why?" Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas, boy. And you too, George. Thanks for everything."

"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there." George went into the back room and came out with a ring box. "Here you go. Something for your wife. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."

The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," he said.

"I got my memories,” George replied. “That's all I need." He reached into a box behind him and handed over a toy airplane, a racing car and a little metal truck. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little boy of yours." The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier. "And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? Count it as part of your first week's pay." George said. "Now get home to your family."

The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."

"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See you the day after."

George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?"

"I have been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas, George. Why?"

"Well, after my wife passed away I just couldn't see my way to it. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself."

The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The pregnant woman will bear a daughter and she will become a doctor. The cop you helped will save two other people’s lives. The young man who tried to rob you will make good on his break today. That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as well as any man." George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And when your days are done,” he continued, “you will be with Martha again. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go. I have to return home where there’s going to be a big celebration."

George watched as the man's old leather jacket and his torn pants transformeed into a beautiful white robe and a golden light began to fill the room. "You see, George, it's my birthday. Merry Christmas."

May the One who gave us the gift of Christ on that holy night bless you and our world with the simplest and most enduring gifts: Hope, peace, love and joy. Amen

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