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Certainly the most famous Christmas letter ever written was by an 8-year old girl named
Virginia O'Hanlon.

A Safe Place for the Little Ones -Isaiah 35; Luke 1: 46b-55 - December 12, 2010 - Cicero United Methodist Church - Everett J. Bassett

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            Certainly the most famous Christmas letter ever written was by an 8-year old girl named
Virginia O'Hanlon. Virginia lived in Manhattan, and it was 1897 that she wrote her letter. It
seems that some of her friends were starting to say that there was no Santa Claus, and this
troubled her so much that she asked her father about it. He suggested that she write to the
editors at The Sun, saying that, "lf you see it in The Sun, it's so." So she wrote and asked, and
received a famous reply from the editor about how skeptical the world was getting, and how
important it was to continue to believe. That editor wrote, "Alas! How dreary would be the
world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There
would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence."

            I think that editor puts his finger on a major pulse of Christmas in our lives. We know that it is the celebration of the birth of Christ - that is the reason for the season. We know, too, that in our culture it has become a celebration of commercialism, adding overwhelming stress and unrealistic expectation to the season.

            But there is something else there, too: Christmas is the celebration of children. "Alas! How dreary would be the world of there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias." No childlike joy, no magic, no poetry. Christmas is when we lift up those
mysterious and wonderful things - and we lift them up to look at them through the eyes of a
child. Sometimes it's the child in our own household, getting excited for the season, asking
wonderful questions, saying wonderful things -- like the little boy in the cartoon, saying to his
Sunday School teacher, "I'm not surprised God sent the baby down from heaven. If he's

anything like my little brother, God probably just needed some peace and quiet." Or maybe it's
not a child in your home, but a grandchild, a niece or nephew, or a child here at our church.
This afternoon is our children's Sunday School program - one of the best moments of the
season. My year was made a couple years back, when one of our little shepherds, who was
supposed to be walking to the back of the church, walked up to the manger instead to smile
and wave at the doll. And even if you are not directly involved with a child this year - Christmas
is a call to celebrate the child living inside you - the one who remembers putting the cookies
and milk out on Christmas Eve. Our childhoods come flooding back to us this time of year, with
all their nostalgia and innocence.

            But also their vulnerability, and their pain. There is the romanticized image of childhood,
and it's wonderful. But there is also the reality that childhood can be a pretty precarious
situation in this world, which, as Jack pointed out last Sunday, is far from perfect. There is great
beauty in the nativity story, and the fact that Jesus came as a little baby speaks to our hearts
and calls forth our love. But it also is a reality check. Because the moment the child Jesus was
born, he was brought into a place of poverty, violence, mortal danger, and fear. And that is the
childhood that many are experiencing today. Like thousands of children on the streets of our
cities, Jesus was homeless. Like thousands more in our world, he was born of poor parents,
who needed the help of others to survive. Like too many children, he lived in dangerous

surroundings, with a real threat of death. And like millions of other children in places around
the world, Jesus was a refugee child, in a family fleeing for their lives. This is a precarious and
imperfect world, and that is most reflected in our children. The baby Jesus was one of them.

            I believe that one of the images God wants us to nurture in our spirits over this Advent
season is that of a safe place for the little ones. And I believe that God calls us not only to
nurture it as a vision, but to believe in it, and practice it, and do everything we can to make it a
reality for the children of the world. That is a sacred responsibility: So I want to lift up a few
affirmations we can take from these readings from the prophet Isaiah and the Gospel According
to Luke that might help us fulfill this vision of a safe world for our children.

            The first affirmation is to not lose hope. Anyone of us can sit down most any day and listen to the news, or watch an evening of television, and find ourselves blinded by the darkness of it all. We can become convinced that the world is a mess - it's all heading in the wrong direction; it's hopeless. But here's the thing about our faith. Yes, our faith forces us to confess that sin is a powerful force in the world; we can't turn our backs on that - children are suffering. But our faith also assures us that sin does not win. Almighty God has the last word. Many centuries ago, in dark times that we can't even imagine, God gave that word to a prophet named Isaiah, and he announced God's plan of salvation for the children of the world. The 34th chapter of Isaiah is one of the darkest chapters in the Bible. The world is devastated; there has been
destruction and slaughter. So it's actually stunning to read through the very next chapter, and
see the words that jump out in Isaiah 35: Rejoice. Be glad. Come with joy and singing. It
almost seems like a total disconnect from the reality of the situation.

            But Isaiah believes in the power of hope. And I think that's a childlike quality that we need to recapture. We have heard or witnessed so often from those who work with children in war zones, or in hospitals, or in places of dire poverty - how the physical situations of those children can be so difficult - fearful, dreadful things -- and yet how strong their spirits are. And how hope and the capacity to play and laugh and sing stay close to the surface. We lose much of
that as we take on adult responsibilities, often with a strong dose of cynicism. Life is not
child play. Look around. This is the real world, we say. But maybe those children, keeping hope
alive in their hearts, are closer to the real world than we adults are. Maybe that's why Isaiah, in
one of the other great Advent readings, another great vision of peace and hope, says, "A little
child will lead them." Or maybe it's why in another text he talks about a child that will be born
bearing the name, "Emmanuel." God with us. And why the prophet can talk about singing and
joy and gladness in the middle of terrible times.

            The reason for that kind of hope is the second great idea in these Advent readings-
remember that God is here. Emmanuel. The reason that the hope Isaiah is talking about is
more than a pipe dream is that God is behind it. Isaiah 35: 2 ends with this wonderful
affirmation of faith: "They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God." Then verse
4 says: "Say to those who are of a fearful heart, 'Be strong, do not fear!' Here is your God!"
That's the focus that makes all the difference in the world.

            We live in an amazing information age. We get news 24-7; it's everywhere we turn. It's at
our fingertips, and we have amazing freedom to plug into it. We can decide what we'll focus
on. We hold the remote control; we push the buttons on the computers; we set the dial on the
radio. And it is so easy for bad news to get magnified. Violence, political division, economic
recession, prejudice - those are all real things. Undeniable. But what can happen is that in this
information age these things come at us from so many directions, they can become so
magnified that hope is impossible, and we live our lives in despair or anger. The problems are
real, but they are also magnified out of proportion.

            Then we read the prayer of Mary - a young girl in an overwhelming situation, who could
easily be excused for magnifying the fear and darkness around her, and the daunting task
before her; but instead she prays, "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my
Savior." Mary knew where her focus needed to be. If you are listening to hate radio, if you are
addicted to attack news, if you are watching gruesome movies - no wonder you're angry - no
wonder life seems dark. You're magnifying the wrong things. And you control the buttons. Try
some K-Love, or some God's Country, or some Handel's Messiah. Magnify the Lord. It's
amazing how much goodness and grace there is in the world, if we magnify the right things.

            A third great idea from these readings is to announce Good News for the lowly ones - the
poor, the struggling, the downtrodden - the children. That's where God's heart is. Isaiah 35
continues on: "Strengthen the weak hands ... make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are
of a fearful heart, 'Be strong ...'" Mary's prayer picks up the theme: "(God) has brought down
the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good
things, and sent the rich away empty ..." It's not easy to read that if you are living in one of the
wealthiest nations on earth, and know that there is plenty of food home in the fridge: Of
course, all of us are brought low by life at one time or another; but, all things considered, we
are doing pretty well. So we who are on the upper end of the economic spectrum might be
stopped short by this teaching that the rich are sent away empty. And then comes the teaching
of Jesus that from those to whom much is given will much be required.

            It's not that there is no good news for we who are doing fine, it's just that we're responsible for what we do with what God has given us. And the hope of God is made crystal clear - that we'll use what we have to care for the lowly ones. That we will announce to the homeless, the hungry, the forgotten ones, the frightened, those without health care, those struggling for work, for hope - that God has heard their prayers. That a Savior is born. That God is making a world where the little ones will be safe. You and I are called to announce that - to bring hope to the poor. And our words are important - we need to tell the Good News. But our deeds are just as important - how we share what we have, how we work for justice and opportunity for all people, how we live lives of hope and peace, even when the whole world seems to be travelling in a different direction. Last year a movie was made called The Road, from a best-selling book by Cormac McCarthy. It was a grim extension of the road many travel in this world, with darkness and danger and destruction everywhere.

            But there is another road. Isaiah calls it the Holy Way. It is quite a road, the way the prophet describes it to the hurting people around him. He tells them, "No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast ... be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there. And the ransomed of the Lord shall return (down that road), and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be
upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." I
read those words and I am convinced that God sees a day when bullets will not fly by children,
and God's beloved will not go to bed hungry, and bullies and terrorists will not lie in wait.

            Seems like an impossible dream sometime. Seems like childhood innocence, foolishness and craziness rolled up into one. So far removed from the realities we see around us. But God says, "Look in the manger. Take a good look. Because there is reality. There is the power of love
that makes life hopeful and peaceful and joyful - and safe for the little ones." Not easy. For
Jesus, it was the road to the cross: For you and me, there are tough times and hard choices.
But Jesus wasn't born to take the easy road. He was born to take the Holy Way Isaiah talked
about. He was born to take the road that leads to life and salvation. And he invited us to
follow. We've seen where the other road leads. Isn't it time to take the road of faith? God
wants the little children - including the ones inside you and me -- to sing and be glad. So what
are you doing, between now and 2011, to rekindle God's hope within you, to magnify the right
things - the things of God, and to announce good news to the lowly ones? God is ready to heal
your tired spirit, and welcome you again to the real world of Christ's love.