A Year of Surprises...

When we gathered in church for the first Sunday of 2020, none of us could even have guessed at the strange year ahead of us.  The changes we have experienced, to so much that we took for granted, have been immense.  Who would have thought that a pandemic would sweep across the globe?  Who would have imagined that phrases like ‘COVID’, ‘lock-down’, ‘live-stream’, ‘track & trace’, and ‘social-distancing’ would have become daily additions to our lexicon?  Who could have imagined the immense changes to our shopping habits, entertainment, family gatherings, school openings, work-patterns and worship? 

There has been much that has been truly awful about last year.  My heart goes out to those who have lost loved ones either directly to the Corona Virus, or because of the knock-on effect of the Virus on our normal medical services.  My heart goes out to those who have been trapped in care-homes, confused and lonely, and for their families who have been desperate, but unable to provide relief.  My heart goes out to the over-worked, stressed-out staff of our hospitals and clinics, and to teachers and other front-line workers who have found this year to be intolerable.  It has truly been an ‘annus horribilis’ for many.

But there has been much about last year for which we can also give thanks.  For some, the change of pace has been welcome, as has the cessation of the daily commute into work.  Others have found time to write that book, or take up that hobby they always dreamed of.  For some, there has been time to read, to walk, to spend quality-time with less people, but in greater depth.  Some have discovered new things – including (for many of our congregation) the ability to be able to worship from home.  For some there has been an opportunity to re-connect to the church of their youth.

2020, therefore, has been a mixed bag.  There have been some truly terrible happenings, but also many things for which to give thanks.  And this should not surprise people of faith.  God has a way of leading us into new experiences – often unexpected experiences which may test us, perplex us, or delight us.  But each of them has the potential to enable us to grow.

This was certainly the case for the Wise Men from the East, whose arrival in Bethlehem sometime after the birth of Christ is remembered today.   As they set off on their journey from the East, they could not have known what would befall them.  They had ancient texts and a fascination with astrology to guide them – but they really had no idea where their journey would lead them.  There was delight in their journey, not least when they eventually found the Christ in his mother’s arms.  But there was terror and trouble too – not least when they had to flee from the danger of King Herod, and no doubt later to hear about the terrible slaughter of the innocent children of Bethlehem.

Trouble and delight.  Pain and pleasure.  Two sides of the coin of life – a life which Jesus came to share with us.  Jesus was revealed to the whole world through those eastern Wise Men (which is what the word ‘epiphany’ means (‘the revealing’).  But he then went on to experience all the joy and pain of human life.  He knew the love of family and friends, the thrill of sharing love, both with massive crowds and with individual seekers.  But he also knew the pain of betrayal and denial, and the agony of humiliation, execution and death.  But in each of these experiences, there were things to learn, and ways to grow.

For the Wise Men, their surprising and revealing journey was transformative.  We know nothing else about them from the pages of the Bible, but church history and tradition suggest that their encounter with the infant Christ led to them becoming the first evangelists to the world beyond Judea.  They are said to have taken news of the arrival of the Christ back to the land of the East, and according to some traditions, they were all martyred for their faith.  Certainly, none of them would have known that lifetime of evangelism, followed by a martyr’s death was to be the outcome of their original journey, when they set off in search of the ‘newborn King’.

We too, cannot know what the outcome of our collective journey in 2020 will be.  Our long ‘COVID journey’ has not yet finished, although we can perhaps begin to see the finish line on the horizon.  But what will we have learned at the end of the journey?  In what ways will God have been at work among us, through these long pandemic days?

As a nation, I hope that we will have learned some important things – such as the vital necessity of investing in our frontline services, so that they have the capacity to respond to sudden challenges.  I hope we’ll have learned that homelessness is not inevitable, and that it is ultimately a society’s choice to let people sleep in shop doorways.  I hope that the army of people who have been mobilised to support the lonely, and bring food to the hungry, will continue to find ways to love their neighbour.  I hope that the reductions in climate changing emissions we’ve achieved by learning to work from home will continue.  And there is much more, besides that we can learn.

But what about us, as a congregation and as a family of God here in the centre of Havant?  And what about each of us, as individuals?  What have we learned?  How have we grown? 

The answer to that question will be different for each of us…but I encourage you, at the turn of the year, to take some time today to ponder the question.  What is that God has said to you about how to live differently in the coming year?  In what parts of your life have you been challenged, or re-shaped, by God during this pandemic?  What changes have you already made to the pattern of your life, which you feel called to sustain into the future? 

For just as God led the Wise Men across mountains and deserts to experience profound change in their lives, you can be sure he’s doing the same to you.  Be open to the journey, and open to the change.  Listen to God’s voice, and God’s prompting for your life.  And rejoice with me, that new days are coming, and that God continues to lead us on!  Amen.

The Sacrifice of Light

 John 1. 1-14: Sacrificial Light

 Everyone loves a story - which is precisely why Jesus used parables, and why we all love movies and books.  The Christmas Story is one of the greatest stories ever told.  Its many characters help us to see ourselves reflected back – in the trust of the Shepherds, the wisdom of the Wise Men, the generosity of the Innkeeper, the faithfulness of Mary and Joseph, the abuse of power of Herod – and even in the evangelism of the angels who share good news.

The Gospel writers give us different perspectives on the same story. Luke is fired by the way Jesus reached out to the poor and the oppressed.  So he gives us the story of shepherds, outsiders who are invited to be front and centre at the coming of the Messiah.  Matthew, on the other hand, is fired by Jesus’ message that God’s love is meant for all humanity – so he focuses on the coming of Wise Men from Eastern Lands.  These are non-Jews, outsiders, who are brought into the fold of God’s love.

The oldest of the Gospel writers, Mark, actually says nothing about the birth of Jesus.  And John, the most recent Gospel writer, is not interested in shepherds and wise men.  Scholars tell us that John wrote his Gospel in his old age – after a lifetime of spreading – and reflecting on - the message of Jesus.  John wants us to grasp the enormity of the Christmas event, the coming of Jesus, what scholars call the ‘Incarnation’ - that moment when God, who is Spirit, takes on human flesh.

There are two words which John especially plays with, in his poetic Gospel introduction.  The first is ‘Word’, and the second is ‘Light’.  Let’s break them down a little…

‘Word’ is the English translation of ‘Logos’ – a Greek word from where we get the word ‘logic’.  John is saying that the incomprehensible being we call God is many things – spirit, love, a creative force that binds the universe together.  But he is also mind.  He has thoughts.  He has desires and intentions for the world that he has created.  God’s thoughts, God’s logic, God’s wisdom – these are his ‘Logos’ – his ‘Word’.  “In the beginning was the Word” – the Logos – “and the Word was with God and the Word was God”.  It’s one of those great big thoughts that we human beings struggle to get our tiny brains around – that God can be thought of as having different aspects, but each of them is also fully God’.  And that’s ok.  We are limited, created beings.  We cannot ever really grasp the reality of God.

So John paints a different picture.  He uses a metaphor.  He has stated the truth as clearly as he can grasp it, by talking about the ‘Word’ dwelling among us.  But now he chooses a different tack, and begins to talk about ‘Light’.

Ah!  That’s better.  ‘Light’ we can understand.  We know about Light.  We see its effects.  We know that even a tiny spark of light cannot be extinguished by the darkness.  We know that if this church was completely darkened, save for one candle, all our attention would be focused on that single solitary light.

“In Jesus”, says John, “was life, and that life was the light of the world. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it”.  And that, ultimately, is the message of Christmas.  Darkness is all around us.  The darkness of war, and famine, and poverty, and homelessness and selfishness and consumerism and loneliness, racism, homophobia, and fear of the stranger and all hatred and rebellion against the reason and logic of God.  “But the light shines in the darkness”.

In Jesus, through his teaching, his life, and yes even by his death, life is offered to the world.  That’s why we are going to mark Jesus’ death in a few minutes, even in the midst of the 12 days of Christmas!  Jesus’ whole life is offered to us, by John and the other Gospel writers, as The Way to life.  His way of living – generously, lovingly, wisely is offered to us as an example of what God’s logic and reason look like.  Jesus’ way of dying – sacrificially, trustingly are still more examples of the Logos – the wisdom - of God.  These are signposts for us.  Lights in the darkness.  Clues to how we too should live, if we truly want to find life.

The star of Bethlehem is of course another great symbol which the Christmas story offers us.  It too is a light in the darkness, which leads others to the true light of Christ.  And let’s not forget that the light of a star is ultimately a sacrificial light.  A star gives out light by burning itself up.  All that the star is gets consumed, given out completely in the task of burning bright.

And that ultimately, is the task that we are given, as a response to the sacrificial self-giving of Christ.  In a world only temporarily distracted by COVID, a world which will soon return to its selfish, greedy, destructive ways, we are called to be stars of Christ – sacrificially shining out into the darkness of the world.

So, here’s my invitation, at the turning of the year.  Let tonight be a turning point for you.  Let the light of Christ illuminate and inspire you.  Draw from the spiritual energy he offers around his table, even taken in virtual form via this livestream.  Follow and pursue the light of life every single day from this point on.  It’s what wise men did, 2,000 years ago.   And it’s what the wisest men and women today still do.

Amen

A glimpse of the face of God

A sermon for the first Sunday of Christmas.

I had a strange experience a couple of years ago.  I was standing in my garden, in the early dawn, when suddenly I saw the face of Jesus looking back at me, from the grass.  Just his head...as though someone had buried Jesus up to his neck on my lawn.  It was quite a shock, I can tell you - until I realised that what I was actually looking at was a football which our dog had chewed to pieces.  In the right light, it looked just like the face of a bearded man, looking right at me.

My first thought was 'E-bay'!  I could make a fortune.  The face of Jesus on a Vicar's football...that would be worth something!  But then, it set me wondering.  For a start, no-one actually knows what Jesus looked like.  There are no portraits of him by anyone who knew him.  We have a picture of him in our minds – white skin, long blond hair, beard, and so on.  Just like the Jesus in our stained glass window behind me.  But actually, the chances are that he would have had short hair, no beard (in the Roman fashion of the time) and a middle eastern face.  So on reflection, I decided that pedalling dubious images of Jesus wouldn't be very appropriate.  So I booted the ball back up the garden!

I wonder whether you have ever tried to imagine the face of God?  It's impossible of course.  But I think it is possible to imagine God's expression, at least.  I imagine God looking, frankly, disappointed.  I imagine him looking at the mess our world is in, and being rather perplexed, to say the least. 

He must be perplexed at watching the uber-wealthy businessmen getting richer, while the homeless, the poor, and the COVID-related jobless struggle.  I wonder how disappointed God’s face appears when he ponders the inequality between nations – when he sees that some nations, like ours, will all be vaccinated by the summer; but some nations will never be able to afford the vaccine.  I wonder what God’s face looks like when he sees the rise of popularism and fundamentalism across the planet. 

I especially wonder what God’s face looks like when he contemplates the sheer waste involved in the celebration of Jesus’ birthday.  According the waste-disposal company, PHS, something like 4.2 million Christmas dinners are wasted in the UK each year. That equates to approximately 263,000 turkeys, 7.5 million mince pies, 740,000 slices of Christmas pudding, 17.2 million Brussels sprouts, 11.9 million carrots and 11.3 million roast potatoes! 

Each year, the UK spends a combined total of around £700 million on unwanted presents!  227,000 miles of wrapping paper is thrown away each year.  1 billion Christmas cards are also put in the bin. 

As well as imagining God's expression, I wonder if we could try putting ourselves in God's shoes for a moment.  What would you do about all these problems?  If you were God?

Perhaps you would be tempted to jolly-well sort it all out.  Perhaps you would appear on a thunder cloud, and lay down the law with an iron fist, coupled with the threat of thunder bolts and lighting (very very frighteningly!  Galileo, Galileo...).  Perhaps you would use your almighty, omnipotent power to force people to be kind to one another.

But, if you did that...you might find that you have a new problem.  Instead of a human race which chooses of its own free will to love you and worship you, you would have created a race of puppets.  You would have reduced the beautiful thing that a human being can be into something not much better than a toy.  Adam and Eve - reduced to Ken and Barbie.  And any love or worship they offered you or one another would be a poor thing indeed.  A mere shadow, a fabrication.

So, what do you do?  How do you persuade human-kind that there is another way?  How do you speak a Word to them that they will hear, and to which they can respond with all their hearts?  Here's what you do...

You send them your Son - a human being who is so filled with God that he can say with integrity "I and the Father are one".  You send them a Word clothed in flesh.  You show them what a human life can be like if it overflows with God. You send them a Word which reveals the full glory of God by living the kind of life that God calls all his creation to live.

You send them...a baby.  You send humanity the most fragile form of humanity that you can conceive.  You do it so that humankind sees that the glory of God is not shown in acquiring wealth, or looking after number one, or living in hate - but the glory of God is shown in the weakest kind of human being possible...a baby, in a stable; the son of a peasant woman in a backwater of the mighty Roman empire.

If you could stand in God's shoes today, perhaps you too would send humankind a Divine Word clothed in flesh.  For at Christmas, God comes to us as a human, to show us what it really means for us to be human.  By a life of selfless giving, total sacrifice, total love and compassion, Jesus shows us the heart, and the face, of God.  That’s what the shepherds saw, and it’s why they went away glorifying and praising God. 

 Perhaps we might do the same? Amen

Christ LIVED for you!

 The Corona virus has presented us with many challenges this year, hasn’t it?  This is by no means the first major Christian Festival which has had to be celebrated only through a camera lens.  It seems a long time ago, but I well remember having to celebrate Easter from my front room – at a time when even I wasn’t even permitted to be in the church building!

And now….Christmas.  Easter and Christmas – the two greatest Christian festivals which stand like bookends, or perhaps bastions, at different ends of the church’s year.  Both of them speak about the life of Christ.  His coming in human flesh in Bethlehem is the focus of Christmas.  Easter turns our eyes towards his risen and eternal life.

And yet, despite these great festivals of life, the church seems (to me at least) to be sometimes just a bit too focused on the death of Christ.  Our greatest and most ubiquitous symbol for Christ is not a manger, nor is it an empty tomb.  Instead, the Cross has become the primary Christian symbol. The cry of so many evangelists, throughout history, has been ‘Christ died for you!’. 

This of course is utterly true – and I don’t want to undervalue the rich layers of meaning which the death of Christ contains.  We explored many of them together on Good Friday – as we shall no doubt do again in 2021.  But, at this Christmas time, just as at Easter, I want to proclaim a different emphasis…a refreshed understanding of the Jesus story.  Not so much that ‘Christ died for you’, but rather, that startling truth that Christ lived for you!

Jesus’ death has much to teach us – it teaches us about the value of sacrifice, it warns us of the power of human governments to push God to the margins, and it provides theological, legal framework for the problem of sin (for those who find that helpful). It teaches us something about the love of a God who would send his own Son to give up his life for us.  But the life of Jesus has so much more to teach us.

It is by his birth at Bethlehem, in humble and lowly circumstances, that we catch a glimpse of God’s passion for the poor and the outcast of society.  It is through Jesus’ life among us, his teachings, his actions, his warnings, his encouragements, that we have the chance to really get under the skin of who Jesus was. 

Some of you have been following me as I’ve read a chapter of Luke’s Gospel each day during December (and well done if you’ve made it through all 24 days!).  I really hope that experience has helped you to get a broader, deeper and more profound understanding of the God who lived, and who continues to live in each of us.  And I hope you’ve noticed that the death of Jesus takes up just about half of one of those 24 chapters!

It is by Jesus’ life and teachings that we too may find life.  Jesus saves us by the Cross, yes, but also by the example of his life.  A life lived as Christ lived his life will be a life full of joy, of fellowship, of community, of giving and sharing, of healing, simplicity and of love.  These are not products of Jesus death – but of his life of earth.  And by his resurrection, we are promised that that life can go on for ever and ever.

So, this Christmas, let us hear again the news the Angels bring…good news for all humanity…the news, the real and present hope, that it is possible to live differently, to live lightly, to live generously, to live gloriously in the light of the example of Christ.  Christ has lived for us….alleluiah!

Amen.   

Christmas....Just stop it!

 A Sermon for Christmas Eve
Gospel Reading:  Luke 1.67–79

Then his [that is John the Baptiser’s] father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke this prophecy:
‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
   for he has looked favourably on his people and redeemed them.
He has raised up a mighty saviour for us
   in the house of his servant David,
as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
   and has remembered his holy covenant,
the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,
   to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness
   before him all our days.
And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
   for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
   by the forgiveness of their sins.
By the tender mercy of our God,
   the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
   to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
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There are many for whom Christmas is a completely joyful time, filled with excitement, the tingle of anticipation, dreams of mangers and shepherds, parties and people. There are, I’m told, SOME people for whom the writing of Christmas cards is a joy, and for whom the wrapping of presents is an exciting activity.  There are SOME people, apparently, who take pleasure from battling through the supermarket with an overloaded trolley, heady with anticipation of munching their way through its contents.  There are those for whom the annual ritual of setting up a tree and decorating their home with shiny plastic baubles is joy-giving, and like-enhancing.

But, I suspect that for many people Christmas into actually fails to deliver the ‘peace on earth’ that the angels proclaimed.  For many, the pressure to conform to society’s idea of Christmas actually drives them into acute states of anxiety.  

A little meme was doing the rounds on Facebook yesterday, which a lot of people shared.  It went like this:

“My bedroom closet is full of Amazon boxes.  Zero presents are wrapped.  Laundry is everywhere.  Kids are screaming and fighting.  The house looks like a crime scene, and the only food in the pantry requires a recipe that I’m not sure I can pull off.
“Also, I’m 90% positive I’m forgetting something….or someone.
“This is fine.  I’m fine.”

Did you know that there is actually a diagnosable mental condition, called ‘Christmas Anxiety Disorder’?   And that applies to normal Christmases.   This Christmas has anxiety piled on top of anxiety, like snow falling snow on snow.  Many people will be jobless, or coping with only 80% of their wages on furlough.  Many are reliant on foodbanks, or the kindness of strangers.  Quite literally thousands of lorry drivers are waiting anxiously at Dover, for the chance to get home to their families for Christmas.  Others will be grieving the loss of loved ones, some just a day before Christmas, from COVID.  Medical staff, funeral homes, shop workers, teachers and council staff are on their knees.

Into this level of anxiety…how does a preacher preach?  What possible comfort and joy can I offer, to a world so anxious?  What can I say which would not feel like a little happy-face dinosaur plaster over a gaping wound?

The Father of John the Baptist, Zechariah, prophesied that the coming Messiah would lead us out of darkness and into light.  He would create the circumstances in which we could serve him without fear – without anxiety – in holiness and righteousness all the days of our life.  God’s tender mercy would break over us like the dawn, and he would guide our feet into the way of peace.  

So what happened?  Where is this peace?  Where is the holiness and righteousness we were promised?  Where is the tender mercy of God?

Here is the problem:  human beings consistently, and persistently, have rejected God’s way to peace, holiness, righteousness and mercy.  God has done his part.  He sent his son to both live for us, and die for us, teaching us with his own mouth and body what God is like.  God has done what Zechariah prophesied.  

He has opened the way to life which goes on for ever.  It’s a way of selflessness.  A way of charity.  A way of generosity and sharing.  A way of prayer, and of study.  It’s a call to worship God with everything we have, and everything we are.  It’s a way of caring for creation, and for one another.  It’s a way of putting God first, in all things.     

But human beings, as a species, have chosen another way.  We’ve chosen the path of pleasure-seeking, the path of self-realisation and individualism, the path of wealth-accumulation, the path of consumerism, the path of excess in all things.  Rather than a simple, prayerful service of thanksgiving for the birth of our saviour, the Christ Mass has been turned into a hedonistic, resource-gobbling, greedy, pleasure-seeking excess of unrecyclable plastics and metals, rotten over-ordered food, frantic travel arrangements, and impossible expectations.  It’s no wonder that Christmas makes us anxious!

So what can I say as a preacher?  I can say only what I believe God to be saying…and it’s this:  Enough!   A silent night, in a sparsely-equipped stable, in the quiet arms of one’s closest family was enough for the Lord of Heaven.  Why isn’t it enough for you too?  What are you looking for?  What do you think you’re going to find among the glitter and the mountains of presents and the billions of cards?  Stop it!  It’s enough!

Search for the kind of wealth that does not rust, and which thieves cannot break in and steal.  Search for the light which shines in the darkness of all human life, not the plastic light of a Christmas decoration.  Search for the Narrow Way of living a life in community with others, in forgiveness and love.  Search for God, in a stable.

For where meek souls will receive him still, Zechariah’s prophesy still has power.  The dear Christ will enter in.

Amen.

The Subversive Christmas Tree

First...a story...

Have you ever wondered where the tradition of Christmas trees started?  Legends and folk-tales, my friends.  The greatest legend of them all tells of a man called ‘Beautiful Face’, or Boniface, to his friends.  A son of Devon, Boniface was a Christian missionary, a Bishop who travelled to the forests of Bavaria - spreading the good news of Jesus, the Light of all the world.

               In the darkness of the Forest, he came across a massive oak tree.  From its branches were hanging terrible things….bones, and skulls, including even the skulls of infants.    Boniface searched nearby, and came across a tribe of pagans, the People of the Tree.  They believed that something so mighty, the biggest thing in their entire world, must contain a great and mighty power.  They sacrificed themselves, and even their children to this tree-god, in the desperate hope of pleasing it...lest it should destroy them all.  Fear and superstition drove them to madness.

               Boniface begged the tribe to understand that the True God, would never ask of them such a thing.  In fact, he explained, the True God sent his own child to die for us!  He would never ask us to harm one of our children for him.  But the People of the Tree were not convinced.  Their fear was too great.

               So, that night, while the Tribe was asleep, Boniface took a mighty axe, and felled the great oak to the ground.  In the morning, the Tribe gathered around, terrified, waiting for the god of the tree to smite Boniface for his act.  But nothing happened...and gradually, the light of truth dawned in the minds of the Tribe.  They saw the truth of Boniface’s words, and began to worship Jesus Christ.

               But these were people of the Tree.  Without a tree towards which to focus their worship, they felt lost and bereft.  So, in a flash of insight, Boniface bade them to focus their worship on the ever-green trees of the forest.  They had no church, no building in which to gather - but instead, they could use ever-green trees as a symbol of the ever-green, never-ending love of God.  Lights in the branches would remind them of Christ, the Light of the World.  And so the legend of the Christmas Tree was born: a tree to remind us all, that God’s love for all humanity is new every morning, and never, ever ends.

What we have just heard is but one re-telling of the legend of the Christmas tree.  It comes from the 8^th century (though I confess that most of the details were made up by me!).  Nevertheless, it is one of the earliest mentions of the idea of trees and Christmas.

Some scholars have suggested that there is a connection between Christmas trees and pagan religions.  The Old Norse festival of Yule is especially referenced – although any written evidence for the Yule-tree among old Viking records is pretty scant. 

The Christmas Tree has a long history, therefore – and mainly a Christian one.  In the story we heard just now, I suggested that lights in the branches of the tree were reminders of Christ the Light of the world. But there are many other Christian references to be explored…

For example - baubles are references to the fruit of the garden of Eden – the ‘apple’ which Eve ate, and by which disobedience towards God came into the world.  But these ‘apples’ are balanced by many other symbols of light and hope.  The star on the top of the tree points to the Star of Bethlehem.  Or if you put a ‘fairy’ on your tree – you are actually referencing the angels who announced the birth of Christ.  Presents, tied to the tree, are reminders of God’s great gift to the world – in the form of his son.  The very shape of the tree is a symbol…viewed in two dimensions, the tree forms a triangle, and is a reminder of the Trinity.  The fact that Christmas trees are ever-green is a reminder of the never-ending love of God (as good old St Boniface suggested in my story).  The fact that the tree is a tree at all is a reminder that Jesus Christ was hung on a cross of wood, or a ‘tree’ as it is sometimes described.

In many ways, therefore, the Christmas tree is a subversive thing.  It encompasses the whole story of God’s rescue of humanity.  From the Fall, in the garden of Eden, to the gift of Christ and his death on the tree, to the hope that the teachings of Jesus will be light to a dying world, each tree represents God’s story.  And many people don’t know it!  In most homes, and in most public squares around the world, trees are brought in.  A blessing from God is carried into our lives, without us even being aware that God is at work.

And isn’t that just like God?   As the carol says, ‘How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given’.  It is precisely in quietness and peace, in silent but never-ending love, that God comes to us. 

We find him, surprisingly, in a stable in Bethlehem.  But we also find him, surprisingly in the gift of a home to a homeless family, or in the gift of welcome and sustenance to a refugee.  We find him in the quiet march of scientific discovery, and in the gift of caring medicine which we’ve seen so much this year.  We find him in the phone-call to the lonely person, isolated by COVID or their own frailty.  We find him in the work of thousands of charities and volunteers who place the needs of others above their own.  We find him in the gift of time and learning which teachers give to their students.

Just as the Christmas tree has crept into our homes, we find that God too has crept into our lives.  And “where meek souls will receive him still, the dear Christ enters in”.

Amen.

 

A Strange Visitor

A re-imagining of the Annunciation to Mary...

Mary plonked herself down onto her bed, exhausted.  It had been a long day of household chores - but now, Mary had one more important job do.  She reached down, under her bed, and pulled out an old basket.  Inside it was her nearly-finished wedding robe...

You see, Mary was engaged to Joseph, the village carpenter.  Mary's mind started to wander as she stitched along the hem.  “I wonder what it’s going to be like - being married,” she thought. 

At that moment, unbeknown to Mary, something began to happen in the corner of her room - just over her shoulder.  A twinkle in the air.  Now a soft glow. Then, suddenly, a tall figure with wings on his back appeared in the corner.

"Greetings!" said the figure.

Mary jumped out of her skin!  "Where did you come from?", she demanded.  "You shouldn't creep up on people like that!" 

The tall figure with the wings, looked a little surprised at her reaction.  People usually quaked in fear when he appeared.  He wasn't used to being told off.  "Sorry", he mumbled.  "Didn't mean to startle you.  Can I go on now?"

"Alright" said Mary, thinking that this tall fellow looked a little bit like one of Mrs Cohen's sons, from down the road.  "What's this all about....and why have you got those, those feathers clipped onto your coat?  Are you going to a fancy dress party?"

"They're not clipped onto my coat." said the tall man.  "They're sticking out of my coat...they're my wings!"

"Oh," said Mary who was beginning to realise that this wasn't Mrs. Cohen's boy after all.  "Who are you?"

"I'm an Angel", said the Angel.

"Get away!" said Mary.  "You're pulling my leg.  What's this...some kind of prank?"

"No, really", said the Angel.  "I'm an actual, real, Angel.  Sent by God. The name’s Gabriel.   I've got a very important message for you. You are really very favoured you know.  Not everyone gets a real Angel sent with a message from God."

Mary was distinctly puzzled by now.  An Angel?  Sent to her?  Here in little Nazareth?  What ever can it mean?  Mary started to shake.  "I'm sorry, Angel," she said, "I didn't mean any dis-respect.  I thought you were Nathaniel from down the road...dressed up.  Oh crickey!  What have I done?"

The Angel looked kindly at Mary.  "Don't worry about it, Mary.  Don't be afraid.  It was an easy mistake to make.  Now listen...I've got really good news for you.  You are to be given the greatest gift that any woman has ever been given."

"Oh, my!" said Mary, agog.

"Yes," the Angel went on, "You are going to have a baby, sent from God.  You are to name him Yeshua"

"What, like Yeshua who led the People of Israel into the Promised Land?"  Mary enquired...trying to take in what the Angel was saying.

"Yes," said the Angel, "Just like that...although years from now people will change the way they pronounce it, and will call him Jesus."  The Angel drew himself up to his full height, and started to proclaim, slightly pompously, "He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.  The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever."  (The Angel was really working himself up to a climax now...the big finish.)  "His kingdom will never end...and..."

"Erm...", said Mary, holding up a finger.

"What now?!" said the Angel - a little bit annoyed that he had been stopped in mid-flow.

"Tiny problem." said Mary.

"What?!" said the Angel

"Well, you see, I don't think I can have a baby.  I'm not married yet.  Haven't even kissed Joseph yet.  Do you know whether beards tickle, by the way?"  The Angel took a deep breath.  A little pomposity crept into his voice again.

"Nothing is impossible for God.  The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.  So the holy baby that will be born will be the Son of God.”

"Well," said Mary.  "It all sounds very unlikely, I must say.  I mean, why on earth would God choose a peasant like me to bear his son?  The son of God will be born in the palace, surely? Are you sure those wings are real?"

"I'm completely sure. " said the Angel, " You see, God doesn't approve of the kind of people who lord it over others in palaces.  His real passion is for those who are poor and humble"

"Well,” replied Mary, “they don't come much poorer than me.  I’ve even got to make my own wedding dress!" she said, holding up her sewing for the Angel to see.

"It's always been God's way.  Right back to the dawn of time.”

"Hmm," said Mary, still not quite convinced.  "Let me get this straight.  I'm going to have a baby, right?"

"Yep" said the Angel

"Even though I haven’t even kissed Joseph yet?"

"Even then"

"And my baby is going to be the Son of God...even though he will be born in this little hut?"

"Well," said the Angel cautiously, "He won't actually be born here..."

"Why not?" asked Mary, suspiciously

"It'll be a bit more rustic than this"

"A bit more rustic?  How much more rustic do you want it?" said Mary, pointing at her surroundings.

"Umm" said the Angel, with a worried look in his eye, "Think donkeys.  And cows"

"What!" exclaimed Mary.  "My baby is going to be born in a field?!"

"Oh no!", said the Angel.  "Nothing as bad as that.  More like a stable"

"A stable!" said Mary.

"Mary..." said the Angel, a little sternly.  "You've got to trust me.  You've got to trust God.  Jesus has to be born somewhere that no-one would expect a king to be born.  He's got to be born in utter poverty...so that God's love for the poor can be made clear.”

Mary slid forward off her bed, until she was kneeling on the floor in front of the Angel.  She could no longer deny what was happening to her.  "I am the Lord's servant", she said.  "May it be to me as you have said."

The Angel smiled.  Mary had accepted what he had told her.  She had tasted something of her future, and the future that would be shaped by her Son.  Satisfied that his task was complete, the Angel slowly faded from Mary's view.  

In the corner of the room, the smile of an Angel hung in the air for a few seconds.  And then was gone.

And about 2020 years later, in a little church in a little town called Havant, an image of the Angel Gabriel re-appeared.  It was frozen in stained glass, and it peered out from behind some scaffolding which the people of that church had erected to repair another window.  But the Angel wondered… 

Would the people of this building, raised in the name of Yeshua, truly and deeply understand the power of the story of the coming of the Lord?  Would they, like Yeshua, prioritise the needs of the poor, and the outcast, and of people from strange lands?  Would they let the greatest story ever told become their story too?  The Angel waited, and watched, his likeness frozen in glass. 

 And he hoped.