Tonight is Christmas Eve. I made dinner, I’ve prepped for brunch tomorrow, and I’ll pull the stockings with care later. And after everyone’s gone to bed, I’ll be alone to watch The Bishop’s Wife, my favorite Christmas movie. It’s a beautiful reminder of what Christmas is. Cary Grant is an angel who help David Niven and Loretta Young. You must see it.
This is the text of the Bishop’s sermon, it’s pretty wonderful.
Tonight I want to tell you the story of an empty stocking. Once upon a midnight clear there was a child’s cry. A blazing star hung over a stable and wisemen came with birthday gifts.
We haven’t forgotten that night down the centuries. We celebrate it with stars on Christmas trees, with the sound of bells, and with gifts. But especially with gifts.
You give me a book. I give you a tie. Aunt Martha has always wanted an orange-squeezer. And Uncle Henry could do with a new pipe. But we forget nobody, adult or child. All the stockings are filled.
All that is except one. And we have even forgotten to hang it up. A stocking for the child born in a manger. It’s His birthday we are celebrating. Don’t let us ever forget that.
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