Four Years Not Quite Too Late
Sermon
Gospel Subplots
Story Sermons Of God's Grace
At the Christian Endeavor Christmas party, 1948, the group of high school students had sung Christmas carols for half an hour, but before they exchanged gifts Brooks Webber stood to speak. Twenty-four years old, he was well liked by the students from his own church. But Christian Endeavor was students from many churches and denominations. He moved to the podium, cleared his throat, and said, "Good evening. I'm Brooks Webber and I want to share some information about Christmas from the first two chapters of Matthew's Gospel."
A couple of girls in the front row became attentive. A boy in the back, Brooks' neighbor, listened. The other 35 were a little quieter in their conversations. He said, "I've been studying the first two chapters of Saint Matthew's Gospel, and Mr. and Mrs. Bowman asked if I would add my thoughts about Christmas to your party."
A dozen more students dutifully turned to listen. Brooks said, "We only read of Jesus' birth in Luke and Matthew, and both those Gospels tell it differently. To learn all about Christmas you have to read both. But tonight we'll focus on Matthew."
His voice was unsteady, which did not gain him listeners. It also did not help that he spent ten minutes explaining the genealogy in Matthew. Those students who had given their attention remained quiet, but one was playing with her pony tail, another was tapping his knee with his comb. Mrs. Bowman stood at the side of the group shushing three girls. Mr. Bowman took two boys from the room and scolded them. Brooks started to explain Joseph's dream, then said, "I guess I'll tell something different about Christmas. I should have told someone years before. If it's okay, I'll tell you about Christmas four years ago.
"Four years ago I was in the Second World War. Any of your fathers in the war?" A dozen hands went up. "Remember V-E day?" All hands rose. "Remember V-J day?" All hands rose.
"Well, before we got to those victories there were years of fighting. I was in Luxembourg at Christmas, '44. I was an infantryman in the Battle of the Bulge. Heard of that?" Half the students raised their hands.
"Hitler threw against us his last flurry of evil. Two hundred thousand Germans with 600 tanks surprised us and the fighting was fierce through Christmas. It was cold, snowy, and foggy. First we retreated, but we never really knew which direction the front was. On Christmas Eve the fighting was still murderous. Plenty of us were cut off from our outfits, and we latched onto any soldiers we found, and made our own squads.
"At dusk I dashed through a jumble of briars and tumbled into a shell hole with two other fellows. None of us were from the same outfit. We were freezing and scared and tired -- we'd been running or fighting for a week. We had no idea what was going on around us. Rifle fire and artillery had sounded from every direction. We thought we had support on our right and hoped we had it on our left; but we weren't sure, and we didn't dare leave the hole to find out.
"We were at the edge of a field -- maybe 25 acres, not quite flat. Out front was the debris of war: a dead horse, a blown-up German half track, and an American Jeep on its side. Smoke still curled from inside the half track, muddying the air. Occasionally we'd see flashes from artillery shells, but the fog deepened and with the dense cloud cover the night became completely black.
"Shaking with cold and fear, we introduced ourselves. We might have given our last names, but I was so tired I forgot as soon as they told me. I just remember Stan and Virg. We waited a few hours for an attack, but when none came we pulled out what food we had and shared. Not much for Christmas Eve dinner in 'K' rations.
"We waited three or four hours but no attack came. Only then did we talk. We whispered what information we had, where we thought we'd been, what we supposed was going on. We knew about the executions at Malmédy and we'd heard about German troops dressed in American uniforms, but none of us had talked to anyone in the last three days who had even talked to anyone who had talked to anyone who knew what was going on.
"It was around midnight that Virg started shaking and crying. Just came on him. We had started our turns at lookout. He was first. I was dead asleep. When I woke my heart was pounding so hard I thought it would break my ribs. Virg had cracked up. I was between him and Stan so I was trying to calm him, but I was so numb I could hardly move. He cried and shook so hard he vomited. Stan was better at quieting him than I. I don't remember exactly what we did, shook him and hugged him, and Stan started talking about Christmas. He chattered about Christmas when he was a kid, where his family visited and what they ate. Then he talked about being with his fiancée's family the Christmas before. 'Remember last Christmas, Virg?' he asked. 'Where were you last Christmas?' He got him to answer, if only with a few grunted words. Then he went on, 'Let's tell about our best Christmas present -- you wanna' do that, Virg?'
"We were desperate and tired, and, I suppose, foolish. But Stan said, 'Here, have a cigarette.'
"Stan struck a match low in the shell hole, and Virg bent to light his shaking cigarette. We all bent low to light our cigarettes, then made sure to keep them low. By the light of the match we could see how bad Virg looked. The three of us were all on lookout now and Stan went on with his Christmas idea. 'I'll start,' he whispered. 'I was nine. My folks gave me a toy tractor with a whole set of farming equipment: a mower, I remember, that attached right to the side of the tractor, and a plow and a disk and harrow. I can't tell you how many acres I farmed with that equipment.'
"Virg chuckled, so Stan said, 'How about you, Virg, what was your favorite Christmas present?'
"Virg said, 'A striped T-shirt. Came in the mail from my uncle's cousin. Strange that we exchanged gifts. I wore that shirt until it was a tight, tattered web.'
"It was dark, but in the slight glow of the cigarettes I could see them looking toward me so I whispered, 'It was a baseball. I was probably eleven. Thirty degrees below zero in Wisconsin and I got a baseball for Christmas. First new one I'd ever had. So my brother and I went out to play catch, and after a few minutes it flew over my head and into a huge snow drift. We thought we could dig it right out, so we dug in with our bare hands and baseball gloves, shoveling around in the fluffy snow. Took us twenty minutes and then we had to hold our hands in the oven half an hour to thaw out. Until now that was the coldest I'd ever been.'
"We whispered more about Christmas and we calmed down. Then I took the lookout alone while they slept. I was between two unconscious men I'd just met, my elbows propped on frozen briars as I gazed across the field, then right and left, and turned around and peered behind us also. The place smelled of burning rubber, decaying flesh, vomit in the hole, and probably blood. My clothes smelled like that for weeks, even after they'd been washed.
"But it was in that frozen, stinky hole that I looked out and saw the sky clear, ever so briefly. Across the field a small piece of sky opened for about half a minute and I could see a tiny patch of stars. As I looked toward the stars and sighted over the German half track, I could barely see a cross on the side of it. Never thought about the fact that German armor had crosses. That's what overwhelmed me. I noticed the stars in line with that dirty cross. There I was on Christmas Eve, with a cross in line with a star, and I was overcome with God's presence -- as though all around me the air was warm and pushing in upon my body. Starting at my feet, I could feel the pressure pushing up till in less than a second it reached my head. I was seeing the star of Bethlehem and the cross of Calvary at the same time. I felt all the pieces of life and existence unite in that frozen field in front of me and I felt as though God was glowing all around me.
"I could not budge. If half the German army had attacked, I know I could not have moved or spoken. I was rigid, for probably ten minutes, then kind of like waves, the experience would come back over me and I'd go through it again. I prayed as never before. I confessed my sins, and I promised God I'd tell Stan and Virg about it first thing in the morning. I promised I'd tell everyone I met.
"But the morning came and though I had the words at the back of my throat fifteen times, I just could not start talking about what happened. I suppose they thought I was cracking up too, because I could not string together a half dozen comprehensible words. By noon Christmas day we were relieved, and a lieutenant directed us to the central staging area. The three of us left immediately. By that night we were going our own ways, and within 24 hours I was back with my outfit and eating hot chow.
"All Christmas day I thought about what God had done for me the night before. For days and weeks, even until the end of the war in Europe, I was trying to find a way and a time to tell someone, but I could never force out that first word."
Brooks had spoken jerkily through his story. But now he paused too long. All of the students were silent. Most leaned forward. They waited for Brooks to say what he so obviously needed to say.
"If I had managed to talk to anyone four years ago, I would have concluded that Christmas, and what God did for me at Christmas, is the way that God loves us right here in the real world. And that is true. But I did not get around to telling anyone, and so I have come to believe that Christmas means more than that. Christmas means that when we do not keep our promises very well, or when we do not keep them at all, God still does.
"This is not what I planned to say tonight, but I think this is also what the first two chapters of Matthew tell us. At Christmas God keeps his greatest promise. Thank you for listening, and Merry Christmas."
Discussion Questions
Text: Matthew 2:1-2
1. What immediate responses do you have to the story?
2. If you could have a conversation with one of the characters in this story which would you speak with and what would you ask or say?
3. Do you identify with any character in the story?
4. When you were a child what was your favorite Christmas gift?
5. As a child, where did you usually celebrate Christmas and with whom?
6. What has been the most difficult Christmas for you to endure and why? Have you lived through a crisis Christmas?
7. How has your understanding of Christmas changed in the second half of your life?
8. If you were going to summarize what Jesus' birth means, what would you say?
9. In that Christ rewrites our lives, what from this story would you like to have happen in your life?
A couple of girls in the front row became attentive. A boy in the back, Brooks' neighbor, listened. The other 35 were a little quieter in their conversations. He said, "I've been studying the first two chapters of Saint Matthew's Gospel, and Mr. and Mrs. Bowman asked if I would add my thoughts about Christmas to your party."
A dozen more students dutifully turned to listen. Brooks said, "We only read of Jesus' birth in Luke and Matthew, and both those Gospels tell it differently. To learn all about Christmas you have to read both. But tonight we'll focus on Matthew."
His voice was unsteady, which did not gain him listeners. It also did not help that he spent ten minutes explaining the genealogy in Matthew. Those students who had given their attention remained quiet, but one was playing with her pony tail, another was tapping his knee with his comb. Mrs. Bowman stood at the side of the group shushing three girls. Mr. Bowman took two boys from the room and scolded them. Brooks started to explain Joseph's dream, then said, "I guess I'll tell something different about Christmas. I should have told someone years before. If it's okay, I'll tell you about Christmas four years ago.
"Four years ago I was in the Second World War. Any of your fathers in the war?" A dozen hands went up. "Remember V-E day?" All hands rose. "Remember V-J day?" All hands rose.
"Well, before we got to those victories there were years of fighting. I was in Luxembourg at Christmas, '44. I was an infantryman in the Battle of the Bulge. Heard of that?" Half the students raised their hands.
"Hitler threw against us his last flurry of evil. Two hundred thousand Germans with 600 tanks surprised us and the fighting was fierce through Christmas. It was cold, snowy, and foggy. First we retreated, but we never really knew which direction the front was. On Christmas Eve the fighting was still murderous. Plenty of us were cut off from our outfits, and we latched onto any soldiers we found, and made our own squads.
"At dusk I dashed through a jumble of briars and tumbled into a shell hole with two other fellows. None of us were from the same outfit. We were freezing and scared and tired -- we'd been running or fighting for a week. We had no idea what was going on around us. Rifle fire and artillery had sounded from every direction. We thought we had support on our right and hoped we had it on our left; but we weren't sure, and we didn't dare leave the hole to find out.
"We were at the edge of a field -- maybe 25 acres, not quite flat. Out front was the debris of war: a dead horse, a blown-up German half track, and an American Jeep on its side. Smoke still curled from inside the half track, muddying the air. Occasionally we'd see flashes from artillery shells, but the fog deepened and with the dense cloud cover the night became completely black.
"Shaking with cold and fear, we introduced ourselves. We might have given our last names, but I was so tired I forgot as soon as they told me. I just remember Stan and Virg. We waited a few hours for an attack, but when none came we pulled out what food we had and shared. Not much for Christmas Eve dinner in 'K' rations.
"We waited three or four hours but no attack came. Only then did we talk. We whispered what information we had, where we thought we'd been, what we supposed was going on. We knew about the executions at Malmédy and we'd heard about German troops dressed in American uniforms, but none of us had talked to anyone in the last three days who had even talked to anyone who had talked to anyone who knew what was going on.
"It was around midnight that Virg started shaking and crying. Just came on him. We had started our turns at lookout. He was first. I was dead asleep. When I woke my heart was pounding so hard I thought it would break my ribs. Virg had cracked up. I was between him and Stan so I was trying to calm him, but I was so numb I could hardly move. He cried and shook so hard he vomited. Stan was better at quieting him than I. I don't remember exactly what we did, shook him and hugged him, and Stan started talking about Christmas. He chattered about Christmas when he was a kid, where his family visited and what they ate. Then he talked about being with his fiancée's family the Christmas before. 'Remember last Christmas, Virg?' he asked. 'Where were you last Christmas?' He got him to answer, if only with a few grunted words. Then he went on, 'Let's tell about our best Christmas present -- you wanna' do that, Virg?'
"We were desperate and tired, and, I suppose, foolish. But Stan said, 'Here, have a cigarette.'
"Stan struck a match low in the shell hole, and Virg bent to light his shaking cigarette. We all bent low to light our cigarettes, then made sure to keep them low. By the light of the match we could see how bad Virg looked. The three of us were all on lookout now and Stan went on with his Christmas idea. 'I'll start,' he whispered. 'I was nine. My folks gave me a toy tractor with a whole set of farming equipment: a mower, I remember, that attached right to the side of the tractor, and a plow and a disk and harrow. I can't tell you how many acres I farmed with that equipment.'
"Virg chuckled, so Stan said, 'How about you, Virg, what was your favorite Christmas present?'
"Virg said, 'A striped T-shirt. Came in the mail from my uncle's cousin. Strange that we exchanged gifts. I wore that shirt until it was a tight, tattered web.'
"It was dark, but in the slight glow of the cigarettes I could see them looking toward me so I whispered, 'It was a baseball. I was probably eleven. Thirty degrees below zero in Wisconsin and I got a baseball for Christmas. First new one I'd ever had. So my brother and I went out to play catch, and after a few minutes it flew over my head and into a huge snow drift. We thought we could dig it right out, so we dug in with our bare hands and baseball gloves, shoveling around in the fluffy snow. Took us twenty minutes and then we had to hold our hands in the oven half an hour to thaw out. Until now that was the coldest I'd ever been.'
"We whispered more about Christmas and we calmed down. Then I took the lookout alone while they slept. I was between two unconscious men I'd just met, my elbows propped on frozen briars as I gazed across the field, then right and left, and turned around and peered behind us also. The place smelled of burning rubber, decaying flesh, vomit in the hole, and probably blood. My clothes smelled like that for weeks, even after they'd been washed.
"But it was in that frozen, stinky hole that I looked out and saw the sky clear, ever so briefly. Across the field a small piece of sky opened for about half a minute and I could see a tiny patch of stars. As I looked toward the stars and sighted over the German half track, I could barely see a cross on the side of it. Never thought about the fact that German armor had crosses. That's what overwhelmed me. I noticed the stars in line with that dirty cross. There I was on Christmas Eve, with a cross in line with a star, and I was overcome with God's presence -- as though all around me the air was warm and pushing in upon my body. Starting at my feet, I could feel the pressure pushing up till in less than a second it reached my head. I was seeing the star of Bethlehem and the cross of Calvary at the same time. I felt all the pieces of life and existence unite in that frozen field in front of me and I felt as though God was glowing all around me.
"I could not budge. If half the German army had attacked, I know I could not have moved or spoken. I was rigid, for probably ten minutes, then kind of like waves, the experience would come back over me and I'd go through it again. I prayed as never before. I confessed my sins, and I promised God I'd tell Stan and Virg about it first thing in the morning. I promised I'd tell everyone I met.
"But the morning came and though I had the words at the back of my throat fifteen times, I just could not start talking about what happened. I suppose they thought I was cracking up too, because I could not string together a half dozen comprehensible words. By noon Christmas day we were relieved, and a lieutenant directed us to the central staging area. The three of us left immediately. By that night we were going our own ways, and within 24 hours I was back with my outfit and eating hot chow.
"All Christmas day I thought about what God had done for me the night before. For days and weeks, even until the end of the war in Europe, I was trying to find a way and a time to tell someone, but I could never force out that first word."
Brooks had spoken jerkily through his story. But now he paused too long. All of the students were silent. Most leaned forward. They waited for Brooks to say what he so obviously needed to say.
"If I had managed to talk to anyone four years ago, I would have concluded that Christmas, and what God did for me at Christmas, is the way that God loves us right here in the real world. And that is true. But I did not get around to telling anyone, and so I have come to believe that Christmas means more than that. Christmas means that when we do not keep our promises very well, or when we do not keep them at all, God still does.
"This is not what I planned to say tonight, but I think this is also what the first two chapters of Matthew tell us. At Christmas God keeps his greatest promise. Thank you for listening, and Merry Christmas."
Discussion Questions
Text: Matthew 2:1-2
1. What immediate responses do you have to the story?
2. If you could have a conversation with one of the characters in this story which would you speak with and what would you ask or say?
3. Do you identify with any character in the story?
4. When you were a child what was your favorite Christmas gift?
5. As a child, where did you usually celebrate Christmas and with whom?
6. What has been the most difficult Christmas for you to endure and why? Have you lived through a crisis Christmas?
7. How has your understanding of Christmas changed in the second half of your life?
8. If you were going to summarize what Jesus' birth means, what would you say?
9. In that Christ rewrites our lives, what from this story would you like to have happen in your life?
