Christmas Eve 2024
Luke 2
12/24/2024
Rev. David Collins
Did you ever look back at your childhood Christmas gatherings and realize that some people got all the attention, while others quietly faded into the background? I feel like there was always a kid who could do backflips on demand. We’d be sitting around in matching Christmas sweaters, and he’d just spring to his feet and flip around like he was auditioning for Cirque du Soleil. And there I was, just trying not to get chocolate on my sweater and hoping nobody asked me about any ‘special talents’ I might have.
People would be like, ‘Dave, what about you? Can you do anything cool?’ And I’d be, like, ‘Uhhh... I can color inside the lines now...’ Then they’d be, like, ‘That’s nice, sweetie…. Okay, back to the backflips!’ And I’d shuffle away, feeling like the Charlie Brown Christmas tree of children.
Even when it came to Santa, there were kids who got noticed right away—they had entire lists memorized, choreographed singing routines, hand-drawn presentations on why they deserved extra gifts. And then there were the kids like me who just kind of mumbled, ‘I’d like a Lego set, please?’
It’s still the case today. People come over during the holidays—like that uncle who arrives in a cloud of cologne and all the anecdotes: ‘Oh yeah, I absolutely do want to hear all about crypto-currencies…for the next hour! Great!’
But does anyone ask Grandma about her secret cookie recipe or how she made it through the Great Depression? No, we’re all stuck hearing about your digital coins, Uncle Dan, which no one can physically hold or trade for eggnog.
I think most of the great stories are held by people who are just waiting to be asked.
I wish I could tell my younger self, ‘Hey buddy, don’t worry too much about the show-offs doing backflips. Keep doing what you do—keep being an absolute weirdo in your own unique way. One day, you will be able to buy your own Lego sets. And no one can stop you, because you’ll be an adult—and apparently adults can buy as many Lego sets as they want.’
And we do.
All of that kind of got me thinking about what and who we give our attention to…in a season this busy, in a world that worships famous people and the wealthy, how do we decide who’s really worth our attention?
Let’s be honest: there’s always someone who draws the spotlight.
In your home, tonight and tomorrow…who is going to get the most attention?
If you’ve got little kids at home, clearly it’s going to be one of them. But which one? You probably already know. And so do all the rest of your kids!
Maybe they demand it…like your neighbor with all the inflatables? He wants to be noticed.
Or the parent who sat in front of you at the Christmas pageant with their phone screen at maximum brightness, right in your field of view, making a recording that absolutely no one will ever watch. They get noticed.
But then there are all the people who don’t get noticed at Christmas.
The delivery driver who somehow balances twelve packages on one arm.
The kid in the Christmas pageant who got to “hold the star.”
The single friend at Christmas dinner who gets seated at the kids’ table because “it’s just easier this way.”
The widow sitting alone in her house, surrounded by memories of Christmases past.
The hospital janitor disinfecting rooms late into the night.
The retail worker who smiles through exhaustion after weeks of rude customers.
The migrant worker picking the produce for all of our Christmas dinners.
The Christmas story itself asks this same question: Who gets noticed, and who gets overlooked?
Every person in this story is someone who was overlooked. Every single one. Tonight we’re going to focus in on the shepherds.
The shepherds, out in their fields, weren’t the stars of their society. They were the invisible ones. And yet, when God chose to announce the greatest news in history, He sent the angels not to kings or celebrities, but to them.
Luke 2
Luke 2, verse 8 says In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.
You know, as much as we’d like to picture shepherds as just Linus with his blankie over his head, or any cute kid in a Christmas pageant, shepherds were actually a very charged choice for God to make when the angels were sent to bring that good news of great joy.
Shepherds were low-wage workers who were taken for granted and often considered dangerous. They kept to the peripheries of town, guiding their flocks to water and pasture, protecting them from predators and thieves. And because they weren’t a part of people’s daily lives, they were maligned. But the shepherds were essential to Bethlehem’s economy. Though, you know how townspeople get. When a group like that is both essential and distrusted….they become invisible, hated, or both.
Kind of like undocumented migrant farm workers today. Laboring in fields all around us, nearly unseen and under-appreciated, yet absolutely essential to the economy. That is the group to which God sends the angels.
9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.
And of course they were! But let’s look at how the angels talk to these shepherds. Notice that the angels don’t simply declare, “We bring humanity good news,” or “We bring the whole world some wonderful tidings”
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:
You! Did you hear that? It’s actually second person plural, so if this was in Florida, the angel would have said “y’all”. Notice how the angel first identifies himself. This is an interaction between two parties. “I, an angel, am bringing you. YOU! (Looks around for someone else) Yes, YOU. This good news of great joy, and it’s for everyone. But I’m only making one stop!”
Think about that…a group of night-shift workers living on the margins of society are singled out to hear the most significant news in history. God could have sent the angels to tell anyone, but chose to send them personally to the forgotten and the invisible.
Let’s keep reading. Say the “you”s with me.
11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, 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.’
"That’s four “you’s” in two verses. That’s actually a lot. And it is completely intentional. Why? Because God doesn't just care about you. God cares about every "you" for sure. But God has a preference for the poor.
Not because the poor are holier, or because God loves them more, but because the poor are more vulnerable. They are closer to the edge, more likely to be overlooked, and more often treated like they are invisible.
And when you read the Bible—really read it—it becomes clear that God has a consistent pattern of showing up on the margins, in the places where people are suffering the most, where power and privilege haven’t smoothed out all the rough spots. God loves all of us, sure, but God leans toward those who are hurting. That’s why Jesus doesn’t come as a king in a palace but as a baby in a barn. That’s why the first announcement of his birth isn’t to the high priests or the city council but to shepherds—men who had spent their lives being ignored or mistrusted.
The kingdom of God isn’t built on the same foundations as earthly power. It begins in the quiet, overlooked corners. It begins with the poor, the humble, and the unseen.
Now, we’ll get to how this applies to all of us, even if we’re not poor, but let’s stick with this as it really is for a minute.
What are the implications?
The first one is that the church could do a lot better. That’s obvious to some of you here tonight.
Love Like Jesus
There might be a few people here tonight who are completely done with church as you’ve known it, and you’re only here because it’s Christmas Eve, or because someone made you come. Maybe you’ve had enough of people like me saying that God is love but then attaching so many strings to that love that it looks a lot more like conformity than anything else.
Maybe you’ve had enough of the the way some folks have replaced the radical inclusivity of Christ with an agenda that punches down or of the sanitized silence that avoids saying anything real so no one gets offended.
If that’s you…if you do care about all the shepherds of the world, and see in this story how God favors them over the insiders and influencers, the powerful and the accepted then there’s something I need to tell you…because it’s Christmas…and at Christmas you tell the truth.
Find the place—whether it’s this church or another—where you can pour yourself into loving the way Jesus does. Don’t just be a spectator. Dive in. Serve. Challenge and be challenged. Make it official and become a member and be on a committee. Commit to building the kind of community that notices the invisible, seeks the lost, and loves without condition.
To help you remember that, I’d like to give you a gift. It’s one of these bracelets that I’m wearing. They say “Love like Jesus”.
Let’s be clear about what Love like Jesus does and doesn’t mean:
It doesn’t just mean being “nice” and treating everyone exactly the same, but if you’re not nice, that is a good place to start.
It doesn’t mean agreeing with everybody, so that no one is ever offended.
It does mean we speak the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable.
It does mean we let compassion move us to action.
It does mean we favor whomever the world neglects or rejects.
It does mean we notice the people others don’t.
Now maybe that starts with your family. Maybe you’ve got a black sheep to shepherd. Or some sorries to say. Good. Do it. That’s where it starts, but it’s not where it ends. And please be wary of doing things that only feel like making a difference—like just sharing memes—rather than actually loving people in real life.
Notice these bracelets are rainbow-colored, which is partly for LGBTQ pride, because when you start noticing the unnoticed and the excluded, you can’t just stop at some arbitrary line. If the circle isn't big enough to include trans people, it’s not God’s.
But here’s the thing: the circle can’t include hatred. Except maybe for those who have hate they don’t want any more because Jesus has called them to repentance. God’s invitation is always open, but the invitation comes with a call to change, to love, to be made new.
That’s what Love Like Jesus is about: not just drawing the circle bigger, but helping it reflect the grace and truth of God. It’s not a love that says, “Anything goes,” but one that says, “Come as you are and be made whole.” It’s not a love that says, “Stay the same,” but one that calls us to deeper compassion, greater courage, and more humility every single day.
Love like Jesus is about more than our politics, though it does include them. It’s about how we live every day, how we see the people around us, and how we respond to the needs of the world. So when you leave tonight, please take one of these bracelets—or more if you’d like—and let it be a reminder.
Find a church like this one, not that we’re there yet, but we’re trying, where you can find others who want to love like Jesus, too. And if you live nearby, we’d love to see you again. Together, we can go out into the fields, to the edges of our own comfort, to find the places where God is still showing up. Because I guarantee you, that’s where God’s glory still shines the brightest.
13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
14 ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!’
“Peace among those whom he favors.”
It’s a beautiful phrase, but let’s make sure we hear it right. This isn’t the kind of favor you earn by being extra good or extra holy or by living on the margins. It’s not a favor that excludes anyone. God’s favor isn’t limited to shepherds or kings, rich or poor. God’s favor is for all of us because we are God’s Favorite.
You don’t have to wonder tonight if you’re part of “those whom he favors.” You are. Not because of what you’ve done or haven’t done, but because of who God is. God’s favor rests on you whether you’re feeling strong or barely holding it together. It’s not about your circumstances; it’s about God’s love that came here to find you, exactly where you are.
Are you grieving? Then hear this: you are favored. Are you worn out, burdened by sickness or stress? You are favored. Are you feeling the weight of strained relationships or the ache of loneliness? God’s peace and favor are for you, too.
Even if you’re here tonight unsure if you believe any of this, you are still deeply and completely loved by God.
God’s favor includes all of us because it comes from a love so wide, so deep, and so full that it can’t help but spill over into every corner of humanity, starting from that manger in Bethlehem so long ago.
Yes, God has a special place for the overlooked and the hurting—so if you want to see God, start where they are. But make no mistake: there’s no corner of your life, no part of who you are, that’s left out of this peace.
This good news is for you.
Yes, You
So tonight, as you sit in the glow of this Christmas story, and light a candle later and sing Silent Night, hear the angel’s words and know that they’re personal: “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
It’s for you. Not for the version of you who gets it all right next year, or for the you who’s finished grieving or worrying or working things out. It’s for the you sitting here, right now, with all your hopes and fears.
The angels sang of peace that breaks into the chaos. And that peace, that favor, that love—it’s here for you, tonight and always.
God sees you, God loves you, God is with you.
May we, like those shepherds, share this good news—both in words and in how we love. Because the very heart of Christmas is God saying, ‘Yes, you.’
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