Christmas in the Trenches (12/24/16)
British and German troops celebrate Christmas along the Western Front, 1914.
I wanted to tell a different kind of story this Christmas Eve, the story of the Christmas truce during the First World War. This is an amazing story and it only happened in 1914. This sermon was inspired by John McCutcheon's song of the same title. I've posted a video of the song at the end of my meditation.
Meditation
Good
evening! Merry Christmas! I can’t tell you how happy I am, how much joy it
gives me to be your pastor on this night! And I realize that I could have taken
the easy way out—I could have skipped preaching and just stuck an extra hymn in
the service. Besides, you all know the story of the birth of Jesus from the
Gospel of Luke. Even if you didn’t grow up in church, you probably heard it
every year when you watched A Charlie
Brown Christmas. What more could I possibly say about this Scripture? But
then I realized that this was a golden opportunity. I have such a large,
captive audience tonight. How could I resist?
Before
I jump into the oh-so-familiar story from the Gospel of Luke, I want to start
with a story you might not know. Exactly 102 years ago, all of Europe was
engulfed in war. The First World War was the greatest conflict that the nations
of Europe had ever seen. The Western Front ran across Belgium and
France—trenches were dug across those nations. On one side were the British and
the French. On the other side were the armies of Germany and Austria.
In
many places, the trenches were only a few hundred yards apart. The area in
between the trenches was called no-man’s-land, because no man was likely to
survive there. It was filled with barbed wire and craters where artillery
shells had exploded. Any soldier who left his trench was going to get hit my
machine gun or rifle fire. This is, by the way, where we get the expression,
“over the top.” In our world today, going over the top simply means drawing
undue attention to oneself. Along the trenches of the Western Front, that sort
of attention was deadly.
Mind
you, the only way to attack the enemy was to go over the top. Commanders on
either side hoped that they could throw more men at the enemy’s position than
the machine gunners could mow down. It was a grim slaughter, yet the commanders
saw no other way of doing things. Men who refused to go over the top were put
on trial for cowardice, and then they were shot by their own countrymen. It was
the ultimate no-win situation.
The
war began in August, 1914, and by December, soldiers on both sides were well
aware of the grim reality they faced. In the week before Christmas, 1914, there
were unofficial truces along the Western Front. The guns were silent, but the
men were not. They sang Christmas carols in their own languages. The soldiers
went over the top—not to attack one another, but to exchange gifts of food and
cigarettes, and also to bury their dead. They showed pictures of loved ones to
one another. They spoke different languages, but they all knew it was
Christmas. On Christmas Day, a group of English soldiers played a soccer match
against some German troops. The fighting resumed the next day, but for a little
while, there was goodwill for all; there was peace on earth.
The
Christmas truce of 1914 is a little-known piece of history; the narrative of
the birth of Christ in the Gospel of Luke is so very familiar. I say this
because most of us know it so well that we don’t give it much critical thought.
It is familiar history, but it may not be entirely accurate.
Luke’s
gospel was written somewhere between 70-100 years after Jesus’ birth. Let’s
just say that it’s not very likely that Luke was an eyewitness to that event.
The references to Caesar Augustus, King Herod, and the governor Quirinius seem
to lend an aura of authenticity to this account. But there are some problems
with Luke’s timeline. While the reigns of Augustus and Herod did overlap, Herod
died in the year 4 AD; Quirinius became governor of Syria in 6 AD.[1]
Christ may have been born as early as 4 BC. What’s more, there’s no record of
Augustus ever calling for a census, ever; in fact, he had no need to do
so—collecting taxes was Herod’s responsibility.[2]
It’s
entirely possible that Luke just didn’t know these details. Perhaps Luke had
something else in mind. Details like the census and the earthly rulers
Augustus, Herod, and Quirinius suggest the contrast between the things of the
world and the things of God.
Augustus
was the epitome of earthly power and Rome was the seat of that power. Under
Augustus, Rome grew so powerful that no nation or tribe offered a serious
challenge to the empire. This period was called the Pax Romana—it was peace
through strength. The Romans believed that Augustus was a living god and that
he enjoyed the favor of all the other gods. For those reasons, Rome was mighty
and Rome was at peace; the military might of the Roman Empire was unchallenged.
What’s
more, the census and the taxes that were imposed by Rome were also signs of
strength. The people had no choice but to submit to that power and oppression,
and the taxes that they paid supported the Roman legions that were garrisoned
in their cities and towns.[3]
This was the way of the world and the people of Judea had to accept their fate.
Judea,
Palestine, and Syria were insignificant provinces on the eastern edge of the
Roman Empire. As long as the taxes continued to flow into Roman coffers,
Augustus barely took notice of these provinces. Jesus was born as far away from
the center of worldly power as anyone could imagine. Bethlehem wasn’t even the
capital of Herod’s kingdom.
Jesus
was born among the poor and insignificant people of Bethlehem. Yes, he had
royal lineage, but the world took no notice of his birth. Luke is telling us
that God came into the world in the humblest of circumstances. God did not
enter the world in royal splendor. Jesus did not become a military leader and
drive out the Romans. No. Jesus did something different. Jesus came into the
world so that we might all be included in God’s covenants—God’s promises to
Israel—that all of us might be saved. This is entirely different than what
everyone expected.
At
Christmas, 1914, those soldiers did something different. They set down their
weapons and acknowledged their humanity. They knew they would have to go back to
fighting the next day, but for one whole day, they saw each other as God’s
beloved children, not an enemy to be destroyed. Something different!
When
the commanders on each side learned what the soldiers had done, they issued
strict orders that it was never to happen again. And it never did. The officers
would not stand for fraternization across the trenches. Nothing was to get in
the way of the war. So the slaughter continued for four more years.
We
worship the God of peace and joy and love. We worship a God whose love for us
is so great that he sent his only son into the world. This was Jesus, and He
was the original Christmas gift and He was given to us. Jesus came into this
world and did something different. If we want this world to be different, to be
transformed, then we, too, must do something different. We must follow Jesus in
the paths of peace and righteousness. Thanks be to God. Amen.
This is a video for John McCutcheon's song, "Christmas in the Trenches." The songwriter offers a wonderful story about a performance of this song in Denmark and some curious audience members. Please listen.
Benediction
Now, beloved, as you depart from
this place, remember that God so loved the world that he sent his only son,
Jesus Christ, our Lord. Remember Jesus did something different: in a world of
violence, he offered peace; in a world of despair, he offered hope and joy; in
a world of hate, he offered love. So go forth and be instruments of God’s love
and peace and reconciliation. Do not return evil for evil to any person, but
know that we are all loved by God, and that we are called to reflect that love
and act upon that love to everyone we meet. In the name of Jesus Christ, our
Lord, Let all God’s children say, Amen!
[1]
R. Alan Culpepper. The Gospel of Luke:
Introduction, Commentary, and Reflections. Volume IX in The New Interpreters’ Bible, (1995,
Nashville: Abingdon Press). 62-63.
[2]
Culpepper, 62-63.
[3]
Culpepper, 62-62.
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