GOD CUTS A HOLE IN OUR ROOF
A meditation by the Rev. Dr. James G. Kirk
Harundale Presbyterian Church
Text: “shepherds…keeping watch over their flock by night.” (Luke 2:8)
First
Second
Karl Barth insists that we do not read the Bible in order to get God to participate in our lives. Rather, he argues that “we open this book and find that page after page it takes us off guard, surprises us, and draws us into its reality, pulls us into participation with God on God’s terms.” (Eugene H. Peterson, “Words to Savor,” The Christian Century, December 4, 17, 2002. Page 21)
That’s exactly what Luke does again this evening, he takes us off guard, surprises us, and draws us into its reality, pulls us into participation with God on God’s terms. It’s a simple story, a story we’ve heard over and over since childhood. Shepherds are in the fields at night, watching over their flocks. Suddenly an angel of the Lord appears and immediately they and we are drawn into the reality of participation with God on God’s terms.
This past week we hosted the winter shelter in our fellowship hall. Each night we averaged 27 guests in our little make shift inn for the week. Like Mary and Joseph the clients were completely dependent on our hospitality, food, shelter, warmth, care. We were like the shepherds watching over our flock by night.
Barth goes on to tell the story about a group of men and women in a huge warehouse. “They were born in this warehouse, grew up in it, and have everything there for their needs and comfort. There are no exits to the building but there are windows. However, the windows are thick with dust, are never cleaned, and so no one bothers to look out. Why would they? The warehouse is everything they know, has everything they need.
“But then one day one of the children drags a stepstool under one of the windows, scrapes off the grime and looks out. He sees people walking on the streets; he calls to his friends to come and look. They crowd around the window—they never knew a world existed outside their warehouse. And then they notice a person out in the street looking up and pointing; soon several people are gathered, looking up and talking excitedly. The children book up, but there is nothing to see expect the roof of their warehouse. They finally get tired of watching these people out on the street acting crazy, pointing up at nothing and getting excited about it. What’s the point of stopping for no reason at all, pointing at nothing at all and talking up a storm about the nothing?
“But what those people in the street were looking at was an airplane (or geese in flight or a gigantic pile of cumulous clouds). The people in the street look up and see the heavens and everything in the heavens. The warehouse people have no heavens above them, just a roof.” (Ibid. Page 22.) What would happen if one day some of those kids got curious enough to coax their parents to cut a hole in the roof of their warehouse so they all could see what the people outside the window were looking at?
Well, that’s just what happens when the angel of the Lord appears to the shepherds. All of a sudden God interrupts their existence, surprises them and draws them into God’s reality and into participation with God on God’s terms. God cuts a hole in their roof. It’s just like those who kept watch over our homeless men this past week. Suddenly they were drawn into the homeless world, their routine was interrupted and for a watch in the night they participated with those 26 men on their terms.
And that’s what Christmas does each year. For three or four weeks a year our routine is interrupted. We think about other people. That’s what all those cards we send, the gifts we buy, the calls we make really mean. It’s our opportunity to re-connect with people we’ve thought about, but for whatever reason, haven’t taken the time to call or e-mail or write. For three or four weeks a year God raises the roof of our warehouse and we see how important those people are in our lives.
A moment ago Peggy Glenn sang, “O Holy Night.” There was a time not long ago when Peggy feared she’d never sing again. Surgery had left her with the possibility that she might regain her voice. But God cut a hole in her warehouse, the Holy Spirit wiped the dust from her window, and the result was the gift in song she gave us this evening.
For a while we heard the voice of God’s messenger, like the angel God sent the shepherds on that night long ago. “O holy night, the star is brightly shining. It is the night of our dear savior’s birth. Long lay the world in sin and error pining. Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth. The thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices, ‘O night divine, O night when Christ was born. O night divine, O night, O night divine.’”
So, with the shepherds let us go now and see this thing that has taken place, with our windows wiped clean of the dust, and a hole cut in our roof. For on this holy night we’ll then see the splendor of God who interrupts our existence, surprises us, and draws us into God’s reality, and allows us to participate with God on God’s terms.
Thanks be to God,
Amen