Holy Infant, so tender and delicious

Christmas Eve, 2018

Grace to you and peace from God our creator and from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ, born to us this night…... Amen.

This year, Christmas 2018, marks the 200th anniversary of our most beloved Christmas Hymn, Silent Night.  No, this carol did not fall out of the sky – tradition says it was created by a young priest named Joseph Mohr in Austria. The poem was 2 years old, but in 1818 Mohr had his friend, organist Franz Xavier Gruber, wrote a guitar accompaniment - easy to sing, to evoke the beauty and serenity of Christmas. And boy, did they knock it out of the park. Can you even imagine Christmas WITHOUT singing Silent Night? Silent Night is ALMOST as essential to Christmas eve as baby Jesus …. (ALMOST!!)

And nothing is cuter than small children singing Silent Night… and trying to make sense of the lyrics:

Silent Night, Holy night, all is calm, all is bright…

Round John Virgin, Mother and Child,

 Holy Imbecile, tender and Mild,

sleep in heavenly Peas (P-E-A-S), sleep in heavenly peas.

Honestly, sleeping in heavenly peas might have been a more comfortable option than where baby Jesus DID end up sleeping – swaddled up in strips of cloth, and laid to rest in a manger – a feeding trough for animals, full of bits of half chewed straw and hay covered in cow drool.

 But one line that always sounded strange to me is: “Holy Infant, so tender and mild.” What a strange way to describe a baby. We know what Father Mohr MEANS by “tender and mild” –adorable and sweet. But “Tender and mild”?

This is especially strange because in the original German, the line is better translated, “baby with the curly hair.” (you can see it in the German first verse that is right there in the bulletin – Lokigen Haar). It was an episcopal priest in New York City in the 1850s to translate the song into English, who must have wanted something good to rhyme with “Child.” Tada… Tender and Mild!  Which honestly makes Jesus sound like a delicious steak or a bread pudding.

But….. perhaps “Holy Infant, so tender and mild” is not actually far from the truth…. Please bear with me, I promise that is not nearly as weird as it sounds.

What we think of as the modern nativity scene – with a wood stable, figurines of Mary, Joseph, Jesus, shepherds, sheep, Magi, camels, angels, and the odd cow or goat, was supposedly invented by none other than animal lover St. Francis himself. St. Francis, who they say wrote “Lord Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace,” pet blessings, and the guy Pope Francis got his name from.

Tradition has it that St. Frances dragged his entire congregation out to a cave outside of town, strew about some straw, gathered some farm animals and unsuspecting parishioners, and erected an altar in the center, and preached the first ever Christmas eve sermon. Later sources tell us he did this to combat the rise of rampant materialism - that apparently was happening way back in 1223 - and to refocus the meaning of Christmas back on the very real poverty of baby Jesus’ birth.

That hits a little bit close to home doesn’t it? Because it seems that some things never change. Since the day Jesus was born, it seems, we have misplaced his meaning, making the season about more and more presents rather than the real presence of Jesus in our lives… and our presence in the lives of the people we love. We bury the rough and rustic reality of the nativity under inflatable snow-globes and mountains of glitter and wrapping paper.

And despite the snow globes and glitter, I bet that today didn’t feel very silent and holy, with not a moment of calm and peace to be found. I bet all of us in one way or another, is searching for what makes the stress of this season worthwhile. What in the world can a 200-year-old song – though very beautiful – say to us in 2018? What is the point of getting dressed up in our best and stressing our families to visit a baby in a manger that was born 2000 years ago?

In 1223, instead of a wooden box full of straw, which is at the center of all of our modern nativity sets, St. Francis instead placed his altar. The manger - altar. Altar – table. A table from which all are welcome to gather, a table for which there will always be a place for you to sit and join in a feast of joy.

The host of this feast, the one seated at the head of this table, is Jesus. Jesus, who didn’t stay a baby forever, who grew up to be a teacher and a preacher, who fed the hungry and healed the sick…. Who dared to tell the religious authorities to take their rules and stick it in a place I can’t say at the 4 PM service. Jesus… who made the rule-makers so angry, that they punished him and tortured him and killed him. Jesus… who defeated death, the grave, and the powers of darkness, who’s light shone so brightly that he could not stay dead. Jesus, who lived, and is alive.

Jesus, who loves all people, the broken ones and the imperfect ones, the ones who aren’t completely done wrapping all their presents, who snapped at their spouse or their parents, who overcooked the potatoes, and who worries about how they are going to pay their credit card bill next month. Jesus feeds and sustains all of us, starting on the night he was betrayed, when he ate his last meal with his disciples and friends who would later betray, deny, and abandon him. 

That night, facing his own death, Jesus raised a loaf of bread, blessed it, and said to these imperfect people, take this and eat it – it’s my body, and I am giving you everything I have. And since that night, each Sunday we remember, and we are fed, and we are given the strength to love and be loved. Martin Luther supposedly said that our outreached hands as we receive communion become the manger for Christ arriving for us and to us.

Holy Infant, so tender and mild. Son of God, love’s pure light. Tonight, we celebrate that love – so tender and mild TOWARD US - being born into the world - the brightening dawn of redeeming grace. And as we light the candle of the people next to us, we get to see how the light grows, tiny flame by tiny flame, until the whole world gets to see that love’s pure light, today and always. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Artist Unknown.