Some years ago I got to know a man named Peter.
Peter was sick and desperately ill in the hospital. He was only 21 years old. He had contracted hepatitis through the use of dirty needles while shooting up heroin. He had been a street person for several years.
But it hadn't always been this way for Peter. He grew up in an affluent mid-western home. His parents were respected members of the community, both being attorneys: his Dad a corporate attorney for a large corporation and his mom in private practice. They were professional people, and they were very busy people with lots of responsibilities. They gave Peter everything material he could have possibly wanted, except the most important thing of all - themselves. For whatever reason, probably just their busy lives and their many commitments they often withheld themselves from Peter. Extended periods of time would go by and Peter wouldn't see his parents. They would be working, or involved in the community or traveling on business or leisure. And Peter, well Peter seemed to so often get left behind.
Now Peter was cared for. In fact, he had the best care money could buy! All the time he was growing up Peter had a loving nanny who nurtured him and in many ways really raised him. Peter became very attached to his nanny, but when he was seven years old, she was killed in a tragic automobile accident! Peter really didn't really understand other than the one person who had nurtured and loved him was now gone from his life. Before he knew it he had another nanny, but she didn't work out, so his parents hired another, and then another, and finally they found a satisfactory nanny.
But things were unsettled in little Peter's heart! Deep in his soul, in his child-like way Peter began to wonder if he was really loved, if he could really count on anybody. He began to feel a deep emptiness and profound loneliness. But Peter was a strong little boy and he carried on.
Peter attended the best private schools and had the finest education. He started piano lessons at five years old and by the time he was a teenager, he was recognized as quite an accomplished pianist. He went to music camp every summer. By all appearances he was living a privileged, but yet, relatively normal childhood.
In spite of the fact that his parents felt like strangers to him, he still seemed to be developing into a rather normal adolescent. Peter was a strong young man and he carried on... until... one fateful night when he was 16. His parents were entertaining dinner guests in their home, and Peter accidently eves-dropped on a portion of the dinner conversation. The adult conversation was about children, and he heard his parents talking about how he had been an "accident." They described how his mom became pregnant even though they practiced birth control. He heard them say they had considered an abortion.
Peter ran to his room, buried his face in his pillow, and he wept! Something "snapped" inside of Peter that night. Deep in his psyche his greatest fear was confirmed. He wasn't really loved and cherished after all. From that night on he felt like an alien in the world! His grades gradually deteriorated in school. He began to neglect his piano. He started hanging out with the wrong crowd. Behavioral difficulties developed. He got into some serious trouble. His parents didn't understand what had happened. They tried to talk to him, but now it was he shutting them out! There was an opportunity for Peter and his parents to really connect right at that time, but he was too hurt and too angry to seize it. He handled things by withdrawing into himself.
He managed to graduate from high school, but his Dad didn't make it to the graduation ceremonies; he was half-way around the world on business.
About a week after he graduated, Peter took off! It wasn't really running away since he was eighteen years old, but it was. He was running from it all - especially running from the empty pain he felt deep in his soul. But he couldn't run from that pain, no matter how far he went or how fast he traveled. In fact, the faster and farther he ran, the more it hurt! The more he tried to numb it, the more it intensified! He fled to another city, and then another. He picked up odd jobs here and there - even played the piano in some cheap bars for tips. He managed to survive and get by for three years.
He lost contact with his parents. He shut them out, like they had shut him out! It was how he tried to cope with it all!
And now, Peter was sick, desperately sick in a hospital.
It was two days after Christmas. There was a knock on his hospital room door. Heavy from a drugged sleep, Peter mumbled "Come in!" As the foggy sleep cleared from his eyes he looked up from his hospital bed only to look into the faces of strangers - his parents! The very first thing they said was, "Peter, we love you and we're very sorry!" And then they both wept - and then Peter wept!
To make a long story short, it was a beginning. It was the tiniest first step of a reconciliation process between Peter and his parents. Peter later learned that his parents had been looking for him for three years. In fact, his father had quit his job, and for fifteen months had spent all his time trying to find him!
Their process of reconciliation wasn't without difficulty. There was Peter's life-time of hurt and anger to overcome. There were complex emotional issues to understand. There were sins to be confessed and forgiven, and Peter continued to struggle with his health. But Peter went home with his parents.
Some months later Peter made a glorious statement in a family counseling session. He said,
It wasn't until Peter's parents made him the total object of their unconditional loving attention that any kind healing process had even the slimmest chance of beginning.
It wasn't until Peter's parents made themselves totally vulnerable to his hurt and illness and anger and pain that any kind of healing process had even the slimmest chance of beginning.
I believe that sometimes you and I feel a lot like Peter when it comes to our Heavenly Parent. Sometimes it seems like and it feels like God is so far away; so removed; so indifferent; so dispassionate and so uncaring. Let's face it we live in a world where terrible things happen: people get sick; people get murdered; weapons of mass destruction are built; innocent people are victims; good people have bad things happen; and bad people sometimes have all the good fortune! And in it all God can seem like a total stranger, and as a result we can feel like aliens in the universe: alone, lost, without purpose and hope!
But then, along comes Christmas! If we can get past and cut through all of the glorious distractions of this season, we just might begin to see that God is not such a stranger after all.
And that takes me to a second story. This is an a allegorical story - also about a father and a son. The difference is that this father and his son had never been apart; in fact they were so close they were literally like one. What one felt the other felt; what one thought the other thought. The father loved his son; and the son loved his father.
But the time came for the son to go on a journey, and as the son was getting himself ready to depart, both father and son began to experience profound grief at the prospect of their parting.
"It's time," said the father "It's time!"
"Yes, I know," said the son. "Do you suppose they'll be expecting me?"
"Some will," said the father. "But your expected time and method of arrival is uncertain. So don't expect a large crowd, or a lot of fanfare. They're very occupied and they're very distracted by what they call life."
"Father, my destination is such a tiny spot in the cosmos... and she's so young... and so poor... and even without a husband." said the son.
"It's the only way my son. We've talked about how this is the only way!"
"This body," said the son, "this body you've prepared for me... it's just like every other human body?"
"Yes," said the father. "And my son, remember - Tell them... show them... how much we love them; tell them that there's a light to guide them; tell them that a fire burns warm in the hearth of my heart for them, and be sure to tell them the that there's plenty of room at my table, and that there's a place set for them.
My son, you will be totally vulnerable, but you are to love them unconditionally no matter what!"
And so the conversation went between father and son. They embraced and wiped away each other's tears. Then, as the heavenly host stood silent; the father standing on the threshold of heaven waving farewell with tears running down his cheeks as his "only begotten son" stepped across the stars - into Bethlehem!
You see, in that child of Bethlehem God is "NO LONGER A STRANGER!" That's why we're hear tonight - no other reason than that! We are here to celebrate the incredible and implausible good news that God is NO LONGER A STRANGER. We are here to celebrate that God, in this child of Bethlehem, has "stepped across the stars" and made himself totally vulnerable to your hurt, and your pain, and your disease and your sin - and because he has a process of hope, healing and redemption can begin to take place in your life!
We are here to celebrate that God, in this child of Bethlehem has stepped across the stars in and act of total unconditional love; and because he has forgiveness is real and personal relationship with God is possible.
Dear Friends: this night declares above all else that GOD IS NO LONGER A STRANGER. It's the best possible news that we could ever get!