A Sermon given by the Revd Jan Kearton
We’re not quite at the end of 2010 yet, but I can say that it has been a significant and a sometimes difficult time in the parish. The major event in our community has perhaps been the deployment of Garrison troops to Afghanistan. The effects of that were keenly felt in all our communities. Many of us here tonight will know service personnel who formed Rear Parties, or soldiers who served in Afghan.
Some of those soldiers have received physical and mental wounds that are life changing, some families have suffered a loss that they’ll feel for the rest of their lives.
We’ve had a global banking crisis that’s damaged the world’s economies, and with it the fallout of recession, job losses and rising debt in our communities. Change of Government has brought changes to the benefit system and they are proving confusing and worrying for many people here.
We’ve had losses in our church communities too and sudden pieces of sad and difficult news about people we love. And we’ve all had the weather, haven’t we? Our church Advent events had to be cancelled or postponed and we’ve seen people without running water, central heating or the means to pay for it. I imagine that some of this is true for many of you too – much of what we’ve all spent time and effort planning has had to be cancelled or postponed – it hasn’t been easy to be sociable this season, or to shop and prepare.
The Christmas cards have been chunking through the letterbox and this year my far-flung friends have told me what a difficult year it’s been for them as they’ve struggled with health, relationships, financial strains and employment.
It can be difficult to see God in the midst of so much challenge. But we have come here tonight to hear again the message of Christmas, to bring our concerns and those of others to God and to find and share some of the true Christmas spirit that we’ve felt before.
We have listened to that reading from John’s Gospel tonight that somehow manages to send shivers down my spine, not shivers of horror, but shivers that happen when you know you’re hearing a profound truth that’s beautifully expressed but quite hard to grasp. It’s a reading that can speak into the hardest of our times, into our most difficult experiences.
True, it can be difficult for us to get our heads around John’s language – talking about Jesus Christ as the Word of God seems quite strange. But I think what John is trying to say is that Jesus Christ was, and still is, the living explanation of God and a way of coming to know God in human terms that we can relate to. Jesus is God’s being, God’s priorities and God’s desires graciously written on our own human page, if you like.
But what does the coming of the Word of God have to do with us now, and what difference does it make when we are going through hard and difficult times? I find it good to remember that the Word of God could have come in any way and place and time that God chose, bur He chose to come precisely in hard and difficult times. Jesus was born in a country living under oppressive and harsh rule and into a people who lived in fear of repression.
And there’s more. Jesus was born to an unmarried mother whose fiancée had real doubts about her and the child. His mother’s situation aroused little goodwill or sympathy and some antagonism. He was born in a town far away from his own amongst a press of people where there wasn’t any room for him. He was born into poverty and struggle, discomfort, challenge and the daily grind of sheer hard work.
And that should matter a great deal to us, it should make a difference. The strangest thing about the Word of God was that He chose to become human in such a way that He had to experience and share some of our most hurtful and difficult experiences. It matters because it shows that God chooses to share everything about our human condition, to avoid none of it’s pains and disappointments and even to experience torture and a painful and humiliating death at the hands of people who mistrust and hate him.
This has been a difficult year, but John’s words echo again with the deep and profound reassurance that those who trust in the Christ-Child will not be overwhelmed by any human experience. The light of the Word of God shines into our darkest experiences and the Christ-Child in difficulty, not in luxury and ease. The living Love of God that came into a Palestinian stable has changed everything, nothing has been the same since.
The Love that came into the world in the Christ-Child is forever. There is nothing in life or death that can separate us from it, and nothing in life or death can snuff it out. The Love that came on Christmas night is still coming. What began in that stable continues in our lives, Love widens and deepens, drawing us closer and closer to Him. That’s the point of the crib scenes that we build each year – we have to stoop to look closely, they draw us in again, teach us to remember the Christ-Child and His circumstances, to have confidence that He knows what it is like to be us, and to listen again to His message of peace between God and us, peace between nations, between neighbours, families and friends.
Whether our times are good or bad, the Christ-Child is with us, sharing our joys and our pains, lighting our way forward. We won’t find Him in the stable any longer because the mighty Word of God cannot be confined there. His reach is cosmic now, touching the whole universe. But if we look with hope and trust, we will find the Child within the midst of our lives. A flash of inspirational light in dark times, the loving help of friends and neighbours, the offering of human courage and sacrifice in the worst of circumstances, the love of family and carers, that sudden lift of the spirits that we can’t account for, the sense of joyful anticipation as Christmas Day comes so near.
From His obscure origins in Palestine two thousand odd years ago, the Child’s web of relationships is still growing and expanding, bringing the world into shape with itself and with God. You can find Him here in this building, here in bread and wine to be received at His table, here in each of us who’ve heard his call tonight. He’ll be present in our celebrations tomorrow, in the joy of human companionship, in food shared around our own tables and in the excitement of children. This Love comes to bring warmth and affection, affirmation and strength even when our spirits are low, so how much more will he come when we celebrate?
So take courage however you are feeling, whether the times and hard for you or not. Love and laughter are coming – be glad and grateful, be generous as He is, and live your life this Christmas season in hope and in joy. The Christ-Child will come to our communities and homes, to the FOB’s and other bases in Afghanistan, to our hospitals, care homes and to all who work through the season.
God chooses you to share the joy of heaven, to sing the song of the angels and to enjoy the loving comfort of his presence. I pray that the Christ-Child will be found in the stable of your hearts, your workplaces and your homes both this Christmastide, and for evermore.
AMEN