Shhhh. Hush now and listen as He speaks to us.

“And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.

 And all they that heard it wondered at those things which                                                             were told them by the shepherds.

                                                            But Mary kept all these things,                                                             and pondered them in her                             heart.”

                                                        Luke 2:16-19, KJV

Every year for a couple of decades now I have had the honor to lead
the annual candlelight service held on the First Sunday in Advent at the Friends of Wiesner Community Chapel (at Hungry Hollow). Back in the early 2000s the Friends renovated this former Methodist church that at that time was located on Hwy V west of Rice Lake and returned it to its former glory complete with working pump organ and pot-bellied stove for indoor heat. It is used periodically now for weddings, funerals and other community events such as the candlelight service.

This year when they reached out to me to make sure I would lead the gathering they had a request: to try and make it “an old fashioned Christmas” event. When I asked what they meant by that two things were mentioned: that I would read the Christmas story from Luke chapter 2 in the King James Version and that I would sing “Away in the Manger” using the Traditional set by James R Murray as opposed to the Cradle version by William J Kirkpatrick (both were 19^th century composers of Christian music but Murray's version of this beloved hymn is more widely known).

I haven't read nor preached from the KJV since the 1980s although it was the version I cut my teeth on as it were. I'm more of a contemporary Bible translation guy as I like to make the Story of stories street-wise and hear-er friendly. But I was happy to accommodate them. And while I have come to love Kirkpatrick's version of “Away in the Manger” far more I know both ways to sing it so it wasn't a big deal for me.

The chapel was nearly full and the room was slowly warming as more bodies filled the place (ever since Chester, the original caretaker of the chapel, has passed away they seldom light the pot-bellied stove but rely on electric baseboard heat to do the job). We opened with some announcements, a song, a sharing of peace and then, on cue, I read the words from the Gospel of Luke that share the story of Jesus' nativity.

It's a well-known story for me. Like a lot of people, growing up our family had certain Advent traditions that we observed among them the lighting of the Advent Candle every night leading up to Christmas Eve. Usually on December 1, Mom or Dad would read Clement Moore's beloved 'Twas the Night Before Christmas and when the “1” was completely gone we would pray “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” and then they would blow it out. Every night during December this practice was repeated with a different Christmas story each evening. But without fail, on December 24, before we climbed into our station wagon to head to my grandparents' home for dinner, Dad would pull out his Bible and read the Story again from Luke 2. Upon finishing it one of us would blow out the candle and officially Christmas was now here.

As I began to read the words from Luke this past Sunday night a curious thing happened: a stillness settled upon the congregation as I read the ancient words. This wasn't polite silence offered a minister as he read from the Book. No. This was alertness as if God was really speaking (of course, he was!) This was a holy silence of reverence. People much older than I am now were being transported back to when the Story was fresh and new and were hearing it once again. Not for the first time, of course, but maybe it was like a marker on a trail that says “You are here. Jesus is born in a stable tonight because the inn is full. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”

Most Sundays of the year I preach a message from the Bible at the church I serve. Sometimes its from the Old Testament more often than not its from the New. The people of The Refuge are great folk but the sanctuary can often be a busy place on Sunday mornings. We have littles moving around and giggling, sometimes teens chatting quietly to themselves in the back, folks getting up to use the facilities downstairs and pushing the door in the sanctuary as they make their exit that reminds us for the upteenth time really needs to be oiled. All that to say that when I read the Scriptures on Sunday morning at Refuge I have a lot other background noise to compete with. But that Sunday night at the Friends of Wiesner Community Chapel it was pin-drop silence as I slowly read Luke's account of the Nativity from the Authorized Version.

It's the kind of silence you don't want to rush from as God's presence

has suddenly come near. You want to linger there and soak it up a bit as whatever words I add to it by means of commentary and reflection may unintentionally diffuse that poignant moment of attention. It was beautiful. The rest of the service was good too as we sang the story to God and to one another by candlelight – Angels We Have Heard on High, It Came Upon A Midnight Clear and, of course, Silent Night. But that pregnant pause that came upon us as I read from Luke prior to worshiping I like to think was a reminder to all of us that God has come near to us in Jesus and, as John put it in his Gospel, “...the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth” (John 1:14, KJV).