The church has a tradition that Christ was born at midnight. It you have ever wondered why Christians gather in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve to rejoice over the birth of the Christ child, that is why. The truth is, we do not really know on what day Christ was born, much less the hour of the day or night on which he was brought into the world. Christmas pageants notwithstanding Biblical commentators tell us that if it were true that shepherds were living in the fields when angels came to them, then it certainly would not have been in winter, because it is too cold for shepherds to live in the fields during the winter.

But liturgical traditions like celebrating the birth of Christ at midnight, and observing the day of his birth on Dec. 25, did not arise because of historical certainty about the time and place of these events. Birth certificates were not issued in first century Palestine.

These liturgical traditions and observances came about as a result of reflection and contemplation by devout Christians on the mystery of God’s presence and action in the death and resurrection of Christ. It is not Christmas, but Easter, which is the most ancient and primary feast of the Church. And it is the event of Easter which revealed to early Christians, and convinced them, that Christ was in fact God; and also prompted them to begin to reflect on both the theological and the historical origins of Christ.

No one of any power or influence was present at Christ’s birth or took note of it. As Archbishop William Temple observed, it was "not in the news." God, as it were, sneaked into this world in a totally unexpected and unlikely way and form – the birth of a baby boy to obscure Jewish parents. Mary and Joseph certainly had some inkling that God was present and at work in this event, else they might not have consented to such a mysterious occurrence in their lives. But even they did not see or understand at the time what all of this meant or would mean. They simply trusted their discernment that God was at work in this, and had given them the vocation and calling to birth this child and to raise him up in the faith of their ancestors.

It took others, reflecting and writing later, years after the resurrection, to see the profound meaning, significance and implications of the origin and birth of the one who had died and rose again.

So, although the infancy narratives of Luke and Matthew and liturgical traditions about Christ’s birth are not a diary of the early events of his life, they have profound truths to tell us.

I would like this evening to ponder with you this liturgical tradition that Christ was born at midnight, and what that says to us about God – who he is and how he works, and what that may mean for us. This tradition arose in part because of a verse of scripture from the 18^th chapter of Wisdom: "For while gentle silence enveloped all things, and night in its swift course was now half gone, your all-powerful word leaped from heaven, from the royal throne . . ."

The "all-powerful word" of which the passage speaks has been understood for centuries to be Christ. The middle of the night, midnight, is when human toil has ceased, human activity and busyness are put to rest, human conversation and chatter are hushed. It is an image of the gentle silence, the stillness, the quiet repose, the peace that exists when we cease from our labors and quiet ourselves, our minds and our hearts for the rest that God has created us to need, in order to help us remember that he, and not we, are God. It is in this silence and this stillness that God acts. The all-powerful Word leaps down from heaven, and Christ is born.

Romano Guardini, a Roman Catholic theologian has distilled the importance and meaning of this verse from the book of Wisdom: He writes:

"This passage is wonderfully expressive of the infinite stillness that hovered over Christ’s birth. For the greatest things are accomplished in silence – not in the clamor and display of superficial eventfulness, but in the deep clarity of inner vision; in the almost imperceptible start of decision, in quiet overcoming and hidden sacrifice … The silent forces are the strong forces."

For the past few weeks, most of us would probably not describe our lives as either still or silent. There have been gifts to purchase and wrap, decorations to be put up, food to be prepared, parties to attend. The season before Christmas is a busy one, and it often leaves us frazzled and fatigued. But tonight we are reminded that God does not work at a frantic pace, nor in a flurry of clamor and activity. God’s most important works, like creation, like the Incarnation , like the Resurrection came from and occurred in silence and stillness. It reminds us that God has worked and still works quietly, unhurriedly, and patiently to reverse the ancient sin of Adam, and to bring us home to himself.

God waited for centuries to prepare his people and to prepare a poor couple from Judea to be willing to bring himself into the world as a baby boy.

We are invited tonight to lay aside our busyness, our anxieties, our fears, our work, and our speech, and ponder the infinite goodness and love of God that he would be willing to share our human lot, to take on our nature, and to forge for us a way to return to him. Our "work" for tonight, if we would put it that way, is adoration and joy. We have permission to be still and to be silent, to ponder and to be in awe of the love of God for us, manifested in the birth of the child Jesus.

The infinite stillness that hovered over Christ’s birth invites us also to ponder the quiet but strong ways in which God works in our own lives. In the birth of our children and their love for us, in the sacrificial love of husband and wife for each other, in the steadfast and faithful love of friends, in our parents’ sacrifices for us. We need to stop and ponder the quiet ways in which God has manifested his love for us, through those who have loved us for his sake.

Emily Dickinson penned the line; "Pain is missed in praise." We are here tonight to praise God for the marvel of his humility in taking on our flesh. Let us allow ourselves the silence and the stillness both tonight and tomorrow to ponder anew the wonder of his love in Christ and in those others he has sent into our lives. Our praise will lead us to gratitude and joy, and we will find ourselves refreshed and renewed by simply being conscious of God’s quiet, loving actions.

The Rev’d Pamela P. Snare is Curate at Christ Church, Covington.

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