In the Seder meal, which is the heart of the Jewish Passover, the question is asked, “ Why is this night different from all other nights?” And then through a meal unfolds the story of God freeing the Israelites from slavery in Egypt and leading them to the Promised Land. Tonight that question fits for us. Why is this night different from all other nights? And thus begins the story that we follow throughout the rest of the Christian year of God’s saving grace for humanity. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
But this year that question has another layer of meaning for us. It isn’t only Christmas Eve, the birth of our Messiah. It is Christmas Eve in a pandemic. Where illness and death have been surrounding and engulfing us. Where we are living in probably the most isolating and lonely time in our lifetime. Even in centuries. Even with the vaccine we are only starting to creep out of our holes because it is not safe yet.
So why is this night different? We have past years of exciting, magical, and awe inspiring traditions that no matter what is happening, we have felt better and lifted. But this year we can’t practice the full tradition. We can’t gather. We can’t see. We can’t hear the way we’ve always done it before.
Christmas, though, is more about hope and the future than the past and tradition. It is the first breath of God fulfilling a promise. A promise of peace, love and joy. A promise of life everlasting. For ever and ever. In time and beyond time.
So this year, for me, this question is more revealing and has more meaning in the midst of this god-awful pandemic. I am less clear and more uncertain of the future. However, God’s gift is more real, richer, fatter, more fulfilling. This year we are entering Christmas Eve more stark and empty, yet with more hope and promise. It is simply Emmanuel. God is with us! We need nothing more. It is what we have sought.
David Loar