Hesekiel 37,24-28
Hesekiel 37,24-28
24 “‘My servant David will be king over them, and they will all have one shepherd. They will follow my laws and be careful to keep my decrees.
25 They will live in the land I gave to my servant Jacob, the land where your ancestors lived. They and their children and their children’s children will live there forever, and David my servant will be their prince forever.
26 I will make a covenant of peace with them; it will be an everlasting covenant. I will establish them and increase their numbers, and I will put my sanctuary among them forever.
27 My dwelling place will be with them; I will be their God, and they will be my people.
28 Then the nations will know that I the Lord make Israel holy, when my sanctuary is among them forever.’”
May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all.
Dear Congregation,
Bing Crosby sang 1943: I´ll be home for Christmas – you can count on me. Then a brief postscript: „at least in my dreams“.
For many people, Christmas and coming home go hand in hand. I think it would be impossible to calculate the total number of kilometres travelled by people worldwide to be “at home” for Christmas. We are a community in which being at home and coming home are also important themes. We are a German-speaking community in South Africa – for some, South Africa is their home, while for others it is Germany, Austria or Switzerland. Tonight, we are a mixture, at least I assume so: some have come home to celebrate here – and others have flown home.
Yes, Christmas and the feeling of having a home belong together. Indeed. Because the Christmas story tells of people who have to go home to be registered. Christmas and home – Bing Crosby sang it in 1943, in the middle of the Second World War. The song found its way straight into the hearts of soldiers and their families. „I’ll be home for Christmas”. I will be at home for Christmas. I can easily empathise with this longing: to be away from war and hostility – back to where I can be myself.
The sermon text from the Book of Ezekiel could have been a template for Bing Crosby's Christmas carol. For the prophet lives and works in exile. The Jewish upper class in particular had been deported from Israel. Their landmark, the temple in Jerusalem, had been destroyed. There they sat, the defeated Jews far from their homeland, images of destruction in their luggage and a deep longing: we want to go back home. And at the same time, they ask themselves: Where is our home? If the sanctuary of our God has been destroyed, where is God? And only where God is can we be at home.
Nowadays, it is not so obvious that people can only truly feel at home where God is also at home. But this is essentially the idea behind the Christmas story. There, too, we encounter the same dilemma: Mary and Joseph are on their way to Bethlehem – to their home. But they do not feel at home. They no longer even feel welcome in their place of origin.
The Jews in exile – they have been living in one place for many years, they are not even particularly badly off economically – but at home, are they at home there? And Bing Crosby: I’ll be home for Christmas – what home does he long for? Above all, it is the idea of a place where he is accepted. Beyond the trenches. A place of peace.
The Christmas story responds to the longing for a place of security and belonging by telling us that this longing is fulfilled through Christ. Where Christ is born, there is God. And where God is, there is security and belonging.
In this sense, ‘coming home’ is not primarily a place that can be reached by plane, car or donkey. Home, homeland, home, that is where God dwells. It is where Christ is recognised. The fact that God not only dwells in Jerusalem but has also migrated into exile – that was good news. This experience of God's closeness in a foreign land gave people courage, hope and confidence in their personal and communal future.
The fact that God could be found in Bethlehem, even though Bethlehem was under Roman rule, brought such deep joy and the conviction that peace is possible, beyond foreign rule and occupation.
And for me, that is an equally joyful and encouraging message in our German-speaking community in South Africa. We live with the reality that families are connected and/or separated across continents. The airport plays a role. Travel is part of everyday life. The question of where we belong, whether we are here in the fifth generation or have just arrived. Where do we belong? Where is our home? The simple yet overwhelming answer from Ezekiel and Luke: Where God dwells. That is where we are at home and where we can find a sense of belonging and security. Coming home for Christmas – actually, it should be worded slightly differently: Christmas makes us want to be at home.
If we think this simple insight through further, it becomes clear what is meant by peace on earth: every single person can feel at home anywhere, secure, belonging to a large human family founded in God.
In Christ, we receive a new home, a new place to belong. And this home is not merely an idea. It is not an inner retreat that we convince ourselves is real. It is God's own promise: ‘My dwelling place shall be among them.’ God does not say, ‘You must come to me.’ Instead, he says, ‘I will come to you. I will make my home with you. In the midst of your reality. That is the Christmas message in all its simplicity and power: God becomes human and makes himself vulnerable. He does not come to a temple made of stone, but to a stable. He does not come to those who have arrived safely, but to those who are on the move, strangers, uncertain, without a permanent home. Where this child lies, that is where home begins.
Where people gather around this child, a sense of belonging arises.
Where Christ is given space, the unfamiliar becomes familiar and fear is transformed into hope. Perhaps some of us are truly ‘at home’ tonight. Perhaps others are sitting here with their bags packed – or feeling homesick or wondering where they actually belong. Christmas takes these questions seriously. And it responds not with an address, but with a relationship.
God is present.
Here.
Today.
Right here among us.
And so, we may hear what Ezekiel promised and understand it as the truth of Christmas: God makes a covenant of peace. A covenant that does not end at borders, does not depend on passports, does not depend on origin or plans for the future. A covenant that endures – even when paths diverge.
May this Christmas remind us:
We are not homeless.
We are not merely passing through.
In Christ, we have arrived.
Amen.