The First Christmas Carol--December 20, 2021

The First Christmas Carol--December 20, 2021

One of the earliest writings we have from the first generations of Christians is a lyric from a song.  I love that--I love to think that from almost the very beginning of our faith story, we have been singing the Good News.

But what is even more powerful to me about that fact is the content of the lyrics--they are all about how Jesus served by placing himself in the lowest position, in order that we might be raised up.  The earliest hymns the church sang--even before we called ourselves "church" in all likelihood--had at their heart the notion of self-giving love.  First, that love is Christ's for us... and then, because we Christians are meant to be his apprentices, it is our love for others.  It is a love that serves, a love that seeks to give itself away, a love that lifts others up.

You can find that hymn fragment preserved in one of Paul's letters--in what we call the Epistle to the Philippians.  Paul, of course, was writing his letters about a generation before any of the gospel-writers finally put their collections of stories down in ink, so that's already pretty early.  But in what we call the second chapter of Philippians, we are quite likely reading an earlier hymn, poem, or song that Paul was quoting.  He is going along, directing his readers to "regard others better than yourselves," and not to "look to your own interests, but to the interests of others," and then Paul points to the example of Jesus, and the language starts to have the feel of poetry, or a song lyric.  Paul says (again, quite likely quoting a hymn that the early church already knew by heart, which means it was already in existence and well-known to them), "Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness..." (Phil. 2:4-7).

You might not think of that as particularly "Christmas-y," after all, there's no manger or angel in the lyrics, and there's not a single use of the phrase "holly jolly."  But I dare say this might actually be the first Christmas carol (well, and if you read on in Philippians 2:8-11, it also becomes the first Good Friday and Easter hymn, too!).  It gives us the reason for Jesus' coming--in him we have God's own self taking on our humanity, even in the lowliest forms of humanity, without power, wealth, privilege, or comforts.  Jesus comes in the role of a servant and empties himself.  You don't need a mention of a star or a shepherd or a "Fa-la-la-la-la" to spot it--that's the Christmas story.  That's the Incarnation--God coming among us, as one of us, and taking the role, not of king, CEO, emperor, or Commander-in-Chief, but as One who serves... because that is what love does.  Today, then, for us who seek to be disciples of this Jesus, the most Christmas-y thing we can do is to find some way to serve someone else without making a big deal about it.  

It can be a discrete act, like washing the dishes without making a fuss about it... or offering to this week's grocery run so someone else can put their feet up for a bit.  Or maybe it's the choice to wear a mask around your workplace or in stores, not because someone is "making you" or "forcing you," but with the thought that someone else is going through chemo-therapy and not advertising it to the world but still needs to buy milk, or that if there is even a tiny chance it will help prevent someone else from being hospitalized so that your local nurses won't be even more overwhelmed with strain and stress at their work.  Or may be serving today is the choice to continue on with the tasks that are a part of your daily and weekly routine, doing your job well, cooking meals, folding laundry, or whatever else is yours to do.  These things aren't glamorous--that's not the point of serving.  But in actions of chosen serving, putting ourselves in the roles of doers whose labor benefits others, something happens to our hearts.  We learn something about the heart of God by choosing to serve others--we are made more fully into the likeness of the One who first served us.

Now, I want us to be crystal clear here for a moment, too: this is not at all a matter of "If I do enough, then God will love me."  No, no, no.  Let's get the horse and the cart in the right order.  You are already beloved of God.  So beloved, in fact, that in Jesus, God has already come and taken the role of servant--going all the way to death for our sakes.  And it is because of what God has already done in Christ that we serve others--not to pay God back, not to rack up points for future rewards, but because God's love for us has a transforming effect on us to make us into the shape of Divine Love as well, as Christ lives in us.  It's not about "what I get out of it," but rather, "who we are becoming" as Christ's love indwells us.  In other words, little acts of serving--from the kitchen sink to the line at the grocery store to the very nose on your face--are ways we embody hope for the world, so that the watching world will see glimpses of the self-giving love we have already come to know in Jesus, who has loved us first.

Today, rather than decking any halls, jingling any bells, or listening for the millionth time to "All I Want for Christmas Is You," let the most Christmas-y thing you do be inspired by that first Christmas carol--let it be a way you choose to give yourself away in serving someone else.

Lord Jesus, thank you for having served us in such love--give us inspiration for ways we might reflect your self-giving love in big and little ways for others today.