Christmas at The Chapel: God Showed Up
Well, I would like to begin this year’s Christmas Eve message by looking at possibly the most viral photograph of 2022. Remember this? It was taken back in October in Pikeville, Kentucky. It’s a father with his 3-year-old son at a University of Kentucky basketball game. And the reason this captured the hearts of so many people was the circumstances behind it. This was the little boy’s very first live basketball game. The father, whose name is Michael McGuire, works as a coal miner, and the only way for him to be there with his son and his wife was to come directly from his shift at the mine. So he came. Still in his miner’s clothing; still dirty from work. Do you think his son cared how dad was dressed? I don’t think so. What his son cared about was that his dad was there. What makes this photo so beautiful is that dad showed up.
And on this Christmas Eve, I want to remind you of the simple power of showing up.
When I was growing up I played soccer and basketball, and eventually focused on track. And I can remember, many times, being on the field or the court or the track, looking up in the stands, and seeing if my mom or my dad was. I wanted them to be there. I didn’t want them to yell too loud or do anything embarrassing—we’ve all seen those kinds of parents. But I remember always being grateful that they showed up. It just felt good.
My wife, Norma Jean, had a very different experience. She was an outstanding softball player— she was a pitcher; she played second base; she had a super high batting average. As a high school senior she was an all-conference pitcher. And over all the years she played, she never, ever had a family member come to one of her games. Not once. Now, I don’t hold that against her parents: they were both first-generation immigrants; they grew up in a very different culture that just didn’t do that. But when she looked around, and she saw all the other girls being cheered for by their moms and dads, she realized she was missing something. And by the way, when we started dating at 16 years old, as often as I could, I would get out of track practice and run to the softball field, and stand behind that chain link fence at Pearl R. Miller school in Kinnelon, and watch her play. I think that’s why she married me. There really is something powerful about showing up.
Some of you are here in this service, but you’re not from here. You traveled from out of town, or out of state, some of you through some crazy weather, to get here. Despite the obstacles, you showed up. And I want to remind you, and I want to remind the people you came to see, how beautiful an act that was.
See, when we show up for people, even without saying a word, it communicates a lot. It shows the person that of all the things you could be doing at that moment, you’ve chosen to be there, with them. It communicates value, and interest, and love. In a world that’s become so high-tech and so impersonal, there’s power in simply showing up.
And I really believe that this is why Christmas is such an amazing, wondrous event! Because on that first Christmas—listen to this—God showed up!
He didn’t just send prophets to speak on his behalf; he didn’t just give commandments; he allowed himself to be conceived in the womb of a virgin named Mary, and to be born in a stable in the Middle East. Like it says in the Gospel of John, The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. Think about that! The eternal God—the uncreated Creator who has existed for eternity past—shoed up as a human baby. Martin Luther once said, “The mystery of the humanity of Christ, that He sunk Himself into our flesh, is beyond all human understanding.” I mean, it’s a crazy thought, but it’s true. On that night, in Bethlehem, God showed up.
And then, when you look at the life of Jesus, over and over again, he chose to show up:
When there was a wedding celebration in Cana—and believe me, in first century Jewish culture, they knew how to celebrate weddings—Jesus showed up.
When Matthew the tax collector threw a party for all of his ungodly friends, which the religious leaders would never dream of attending, Jesus showed up.
When a man named Lazarus tragically died, and his family was grieving their loss, Jesus showed up.
When a man named Zaccheus, who was despised by his fellow Jewish people for collaborating with the Roman government, climbed a tree to get a better look at Jesus, Jesus invited himself to Zaccheus’s home. Nobody wanted to come to Zaccheus’s home. But Jesus showed up.
The pattern is so clear: Jesus didn’t seclude himself in the temple, studying Scriptures and praying prayers. Wherever the people were—celebrating or grieving or just living life—that’s where Jesus could be found—listening, teaching, healing. In fact, it seems like he made a point to show up for people who weren’t used to having anyone show up for them: sick people…rejected people…moral failures. He cared about them, and they knew it.
Over and over again, Jesus showed up.
And when he was about 33 years old, during the spring season of Passover, he showed up in Jerusalem. He had every reason to not show up, because he knew what would happen. And sure enough, he was arrested and put on trial; he was tortured and crucified on a cross. And because he did that—because Jesus showed up on the cross—the debt that every one of us owes to God was paid in full. We just need to believe in him and receive his forgiveness.
And then, two days later, early in the morning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb where Jesus was buried. And to their utter shock (you know what I’m going to say, right?)…Jesus showed up. He had paid the price for sin, he had conquered death, and I tell you on this Christmas Eve, he’s alive. And when we open our hearts and receive him, we not only get his forgiveness, we receive his Holy Spirit, who empowers us to live the way he lived. Which is such a good thing, because what this world needs is more people living the way Jesus lived. Amen?
So here’s what I’m saying, since God showed up for us, let’s all decide that we’re going to walk out of this place, and we’re going to show up for each other. Are you with me? Let’s be people who show up.
Parents, when your son or daughter has a game or a concert or a dance recital or a science fair, even if you have to leave work early, show up.
Dads, when your kids need help with their homework, even though you’re exhausted from your day, and all you want to do is watch Sports Center, show up.
When your friend is in the hospital, feeling forgotten, show up. But I don’t know what to say when I get there. It doesn’t matter—just show up.
When your friend does something stupid, and gets arrested for, show up.
When someone dies and there’s a viewing, and the funeral home is 45 minutes away, show up.
When your elderly parents need help figuring out the remote control for their TV, show up.
When your family is gathered at Christmas, and you’d rather hide out in the den and watch the game, show up.
Show up when you feel like it; show up when you don’t feel like it. Show up when the person deserves it and when the person doesn’t deserve it. Because when we show up, we show how much we care; we make ourselves available for God to work through us, and we represent Jesus really well.
Since God showed up for us, let’s be people who show up in life.
Years ago, there was a guy from The Chapel who nearly died from a heart attack; he had emergency bypass surgery, and the next day I went to visit him at Hackensack Hospital. Spent maybe 20 minutes with him, helped him eat some flavored ice chips, which is all he was allowed to eat; prayed with him, and left. Several years later I saw him in church, and he said, “Hey, I want to thank you.” I said, “For what?” I figured he appreciated something I said in a sermon. He said, “Years ago I woke up in the hospital after almost losing my life, and the first thing I saw was you sitting there. And you fed me ice chips. And I will never forget that for the rest of my life.” This is a guy who’s heard me preach hundreds of sermons; he has served the homeless with me on the streets of Paterson; we’ve known each other a long time. But the thing that meant the most to him is that when he was at his lowest, I simply showed up.
This Christmas, I pray that you will be so amazed by the God who showed up for you, that you will spend the rest of this year and the rest of your life showing up for others. Because I promise you: when we do that, we’re going to bring light into some very dark places.
Well, I invite you now to get your candles ready, and ushers can come up.
[Dave light candle.]
Dave: Jesus said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." I don’t have to tell anyone here that there’s a lot of darkness in this world. It’s pretty obvious! But when we carry the light of Christ, it’s more powerful than the darkness. And it overcomes the darkness. Let’s spread that light around this room.
Dave light candles of ushers
John/Barry lead “Hark the Herald,” “O Holy Night”
Dave: What a beautiful sound in this room. Don’t forget this moment. Take it in; treasure it. And before you leave, let me remind you of one more thing Jesus said. Jesus said to his followers: "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.
As we go out from this place, let’s carry the light of Christ into our homes, and everywhere else calls us to show up.
I want to thank you for spending your Christmas Eve with us! And at this time, please carefully extinguish your candles.
God Bless you, Merry Christmas, and good night!