Christmas Eve

O Holy Night 

There was an article in today’s Tribune about the Christmas song, “O holy night."  For many people, it’s a special favorite.  You probably have a version you particularly like; mine is Pavarotti's. As the Trib noted in passing, it is a song that calls for a solo voice (unlike most Christmas carols).  Many singers in different styles and with varying success have recorded it over the years.

But it’s not the song I want to focus on, but the words. Holy Night. Holy Night.

Over and over again, in hymns and poems, human beings across the centuries have called this night “holy.” That word “holy," of course, is a word we use a lot in the church.We use it so frequently I imagine for many of you it usually just slides by without much notice or particular significance. It’s a word we say a lot in church, you expect to hear it. (As an aside it’s interesting that we don’t use it much at all outside of church.) But for some reason, tonight the word "holy" is not routine, not something that just slips by relatively unnoticed. Not on this holy night. This is a holy night.  And calling this night “holy” is important.

Especially when I’m teaching children about Holy Communion or working with adults, too, I ask people to define “holy” in their own words. Usually folks struggle just a bit. Something to do with God, they say. It’s hard to put exactly into words.

But, although it may be hard to come up with a dictionary-style definition for holy or holiness, you know it when you see it. You know it when you feel holiness. You know it when you experience holiness. And now, this night, this holy night, is one of those times.  One of those times when we see and hear and know holiness.

Tonight we know what holiness looks like. It looks like a baby born in a manger. A baby just like any other, except … holy. A little baby boy who is holiness.

Holiness is what angels sound like singing.

Somehow a simple story of shepherd’s and magi’s awe and wonder expresses something holy that we can touch and share.

Holiness is the vision of angels’ wings just visible, shimmering light in the dark.

 Holiness is the feeling born in human hearts this night—the inexplicable, but inextinguishable ember of hope within, no matter what is going on outside.

This night we are surrounded by holiness and filled with holiness. Maybe it’s hard to describe or explain, but it’s there. This night. This holy night.

God’s gift this night is holiness. Given to us. Into our lives; into our world. God, with us.

Holiness came into our world that night in Bethlehem so many years ago when God was born in a manger. Holiness came into our world and it has never left.

In this annual celebration of the holy nativity our awareness is renewed. Our confidence is restored that we may seek and expect holiness throughout our lives.

As a part of the Prayer Book service of Daily Evening Prayer, we pray “that this evening may be holy, good and peaceful.” That’s a prayer to be said daily, any evening,  every night. And because this night is holy, and we know it is holy, we can expect any night, all other nights, to be holy, too.

Because we see and hear the holy angels on this night, we can look for them to guard us and sing to us on other nights.

Because an unquenchable light shines in the darkness of this holy night, we can grasp the promise that we will never be conquered by the dark.

Hang on to the holiness of this night. It is real and it does not depart with tomorrow’s sunrise.

Because God in all of his holiness was born in human flesh on this night, we human beings are invited to know and share God’s holiness throughout our lives.

O holy night. The stars are brightly shining. This is the night of our dear Savior’s birth.  O, holy night.