"This Night "

Dr. Michael Browder, Pastor
Wednesday, December 24, 2008

In Jewish homes, when they celebrate the Passover, there is a tradition on how the festival should begin. It is the duty of the youngest child in the family to ask the question:

“How is this night different from every other night?” (In Hebrew:)

? מה נשתנה הלילה הזה מכל הלילות Ma nishtana ha-laila ha-zeh mi-kol ha-leilot?

At that time, it is the duty of the family to repeat for the child the history of how God delivered his people from Egypt and how the Lord protected them on the night of the Passover.

You know, I have always thought that it would be nice if we had a similar tradition for Christmas Eve. Wouldn’t it be nice if the youngest child in each family were to ask: “How is this night different from every other night?” And then, we would take time to tell the story of Jesus’ birth.

Tonight, I want to talk about how this night is special. I am going to talk about the 3 M’s. (So this is my Scotch Tape message. - Maybe it will stick with you.)

The first M is memories. Don’t we all have some wonderful memories of Christmas? In my family, the big gathering was on Christmas Eve. This had been going on since before I was born. In fact, it started when my mother was a child, and lasted well into my adulthood.

We always gathered at my grandparents house in Chesterfield. Grandma Ficke, who was a tiny little woman, always cooked enough to feed an army. Her signature dish was turkey dressing with oysters in it.

Grandma was also widely known for her Christmas cookies. There were all sorts of designs, iced and decorated. Most of them were butter cookies. (Grandma was half Danish.) [ ] But there were also iced molasses cookies, and gingerbread cookies stuffed with minced meet. If you were Grandma’s friend or family, you received a tin of home-made cookies every year.

And then there was Grandpa Ficke. He was the stealth factor in Christmas. Every year, Grandpa would run across some grand gift that struck his fancy, and one of us would be surprised on Christmas Eve. One year it was an electric carving knife for Grandma. Another year, it was a pool table for us kids. But every year there was the one big surprise.

But, the life of the party was always my father. He loved Christmas. And he was loud in every sense of the word. His voice could be heard half a mile away. And he always wore a gaudy shirt which could be seen even further away. Dad loved to buy the tackiest Christmas decorations available. Do you remember the ball ornament for the tree that let out the piercing bird sound? Dad owned the first one of those I ever saw. I can still hear that screeching sound in my sleep. Do you remember the big mouth bass? Yep, Dad owned the first one on the block.

After our great Christmas Eve feast, we children experienced some of the most difficult moments of our lives: We were waiting for the dishes to be washed before we could open the presents. There we were staring at the bright colored packages. When no one was looking, we shook each gift and tried to guess what was inside. It was my father who started the tradition of singing Christmas carols to keep us occupied while we were waiting. He even created a terrible arrangement of the Christmas tree song. O Tannenbaum would never be the same.

Finally, the great moment came. This moment did not take place like it does my wife Susan’s family. In her home, each person quietly and neatly opens one gift and shows it all around. Only then, may another person open one.

Not so, in the Browder klan. In our family, everyone had a huge pile of presents plopped down in front of them. Then, everyone madly tore off the paper at the same time. Only at that point, as we sat panting, waist-deep in wrapping paper, boxes, and newly-opened gifts, did we look into the good fortune of the other members of the family, who were sitting around us.

The church was always part of our Christmas season. One of my earliest memories in life was climbing up on a wooden box behind the pulpit at Sherbourne Methodist Church, to say my line in the Christmas play. Later, when we were in MYF at Bishop Memorial Church we youth were in charge of all the aspects of the pageant’s production, from playing the characters to constructing the set.

Memories of Christmas. Those are some of the things I remember. I’ll bet you have a heart full of Christmas memories also. That’s one of the things that makes this night so special, so different from every other night.

The second M, which makes this night so special, is the manger. The characters that surround the manger in the tableau of Christmas Eve are unforgettable: The rustic shepherds. The exotic Wise Men. The celestial angels. The friendly animals. The protective shoulders of Joseph. The loving gaze of Mary. How could you see this scene and not be touched?

But there, in the middle, bright and beaming is the baby Jesus. There’s something special about the birth of a baby. - You know that? I remember when our children were born. Michael was born at MCV, in the very same building where I was born. We were living in Highland Park at that time.

I never will forget when I saw his tiny little head full of dark hair come out into the world for the first time. What a moment! I was a father!

By contrast, Beth was born in Shenandoah Hospital. It was a small hospital.

Only one doctor, one nurse and me, yours truly, attending the birth. So, at the moment Beth was born, they wrapped her in a blanket and put her strait into my arms. I got to hold her even before Susan did. That was one of the best moments of my life. (I have been holding Beth in my arms ever since.)

There is something incredibly special about a baby being born. And that’s the way it is with Christmas. Even a manger, a place where smelly cattle slobbered into their straw, Even that manger became a special place, because a baby was born there.

And the final M stands for message. This night is not like any other night, because that baby was not like any other baby. That baby was Jesus, “the one who saves us.” That baby was the Son of God, and a part of him was God Himself. That baby was born so that every one who believes in him might have salvation and eternal life.

My friend, don’t miss the real meaning of Christmas. It is great to sing Christmas carols and exchange gifts. It is great to feast and to be with family. It is great to attend church services. But if the message of Christ’s salvation never penetrates your heart, you have missed it! Christ was born in Bethlehem, so that he might be born in you. In your heart, in your life. Don’t let this Christmas go by, without making sure that you know him, that you have found his salvation. Take a moment to search your heart, and ponder these things.

How is this night different from every other night? This is the night that Jesus, the Savior, was born!