Sunday, 28 February 2016
Lenten Fasting - A sermon for the First Sunday in Lent - Revd Sue Watson
I need to ask you a
question: is anybody giving something up for Lent? And what sort of things are
you giving up?
What do you think this is all
about- depriving ourselves of the things we enjoy? Why do we do it- or attempt
to do it? I wonder if it’s so that we can pat ourselves on the back and congratulate
ourselves on our will-power, when we arrive at Easter and we’ve succeeded? And
succeeded in what?
I’ve found myself asking
these questions recently, as I prepare-yet again- to give up red wine for forty
days- minus Sundays, which are, after all, feast days, not fast days!
What am I trying to achieve
and who will benefit from my exertions?
Well, I know that I’ll
benefit, if I’m healthier and if I lose weight – which I doubt I will…but will
it be of any other use, to give up something I enjoy, just to take it up again
when Lent is over? It’s a question worth pondering.
I guess ‘giving something up’,
if you like, is a watered-down version of the idea that Lent has always been
one of those times when the church has called upon the people to fast. ‘Giving
something up’ isn’t a complete fast, but it is abstinence- abstinence from a
particular thing such as meat, or chocolate…
Since the early centuries,
the Church has suggested three things that we should undertake during Lent -
prayer, fasting and almsgiving. It is for this reason that the Gospel text for
Ash Wednesday every year is Jesus’ advice on prayer, fasting and almsgiving
(Matt 6:1-6, 16-18): “ Beware of practising your piety before
others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward in
heaven…whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they
disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly, I tell
you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head
and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen, not by others, but by
your Father who is in secret; and your Father, who sees in secret will reward
you.”
In other words, don’t do it
in public to make a show- do it privately, so that God knows, but no-one else –
and Jesus applies this direction to prayer and giving alms, as well as to
fasting.
In years past, the notion of
a fast on certain days was common: Friday, for example, the day of the
crucifixion, was never a day to eat meat, hence the fish and chip tradition!
But there have also been many other days when fasting was required, for
example: the eves of Christmas, the Purification and the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Easter Eve and the eve of certain saints’ days,
as well as the Ember days and the three Rogation days.
I have heard
it said that there is currently a growing interest in society in fasting, for
spiritual reasons. That may be so, but if you search Google now, most of the references
you find to fasting are about dieting: the five-two diet, intermittent fasting,
the five day fast. In a part of the world where food is so readily available to
most of us, society at large tends to think of fasting as a way to lose excess
weight.
But the
notion of fasting is very Biblical and it has a spiritual purpose. Fasting was a
regular practice in Israel, often a communal as well as an individual activity,
with the whole community engaged in fasting together: when the disciples of
John the Baptist came to Jesus they asked “Why do we and the Pharisees fast
often, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus responded by saying that fasting
is not for the time when the bridegroom is with his disciples, but the time will
come when he is no longer with them…and then they will fast. Here we see that
Jesus sees fasting as something reflective, associated with a certain sadness,
or sense of something lacking and an activity designed to keep in touch with
God…and so he clearly expects his followers to have times of fasting when he is
no longer with them.
So what is
fasting and what exactly is it meant to achieve?
Fasting,
broadly speaking, is the voluntary avoidance of eating something that is good.
When Christians talk about fasting, we normally mean restricting the food that
we eat. We can fast between meals by not eating snacks, or we can engage in a
complete fast by abstaining from all food on certain days. The English word breakfast, in fact, means
the meal that breaks the fast.
While
fasting takes the form of refraining from eating for a period of time, its
purpose is to do with taming our bodies and taking the focus off our bodily
needs so that we can concentrate on higher, more spiritual things.
Of course, there is the issue of how
we get to the point of ignoring the hunger pangs, so that all we think about is
food, defeating the object of focussing more on God and our relationship with
him! That takes time to learn and to practice. But the practice of letting go
of our obsession with feeding and comforting our physical bodies will, in time,
allow our minds to focus on our spiritual, rather than our physical needs. It
will open the door to a closer awareness of God, heightened sensitivity to his
creation, and, indeed, to other people and their needs.
This
isn’t of course, to say that food isn’t a necessary requirement for healthy
living…that would be silly: when Jesus is in the wilderness and fasting, the
devil tempted him to turn stones into bread. Jesus didn’t respond by saying
that he didn’t need bread – what he
said was that living needs both bread and the word of God: As the Gospel of
Matthew says: “One does not live by bread alone…
but by every word that comes from the mouth of God”- a quotation from the
Hebrew scriptures, Deuteronomy Chapter 8. We need to get the balance right
between our focus on our bodily needs and on our spiritual needs. Sometimes
these are out of kilter and fasting is a way of correcting the balance.
So,
the advantage to me, as an individual, of fasting might be that I lose weight,
that I’m therefore healthier and that I have been able to focus my attention
more on my heavenly Father through prayer and meditation and now find myself
closer to him. That would surely be well worth the effort.
But
is it enough? This kind of fasting and prayer as a very personal and individual
thing, bringing benefit just to oneself is not the whole picture. The value of fasting and prayer goes much
deeper than this and there is a further step to take: there are consequences
for getting closer to God.
When
Jesus talks about piety- our religious practice – he links three things:
prayer, fasting and giving. ..our
religious practice, says Jesus includes all three of these things, not just
prayer and fasting, but looking outward, looking towards others in their need,
supporting those who are without the basic necessities of life- giving our
money and our time to them, campaigning for changes in oppressive behaviour by
governments and institutions which practice unfair discrimination, highlighting
corrupt employment practice - caring in whatever ways we can.
What
Jesus is talking about here is seeking
justice for all: and this flows outwards from true religious
observance- from fasting and prayer: all three things are inter-connected:
prayer, fasting and caring for the needs of others.
In
the time of the prophet Isaiah, the people of Israel fasted together but were
far from God and God says to them, through the prophet: “day after day they
seek me and delight to know my ways as
if they were a nation that practised righteousness…”In other words,
their fasting was hollow, it was not linked to righteous behaviour or the
requirements of God- justice and mercy. Let me read to you the words of God,
spoken by the prophet Isaiah to the people of Israel:
‘Look, you serve your own interest on your fast-day,
and oppress all your workers.
4 Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to strike with a wicked fist.
Such fasting as you do today
will not make your voice heard on high.
5 Is such the fast that I choose,
a day to humble oneself?
Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush,
and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast,
a day acceptable to the Lord?
and oppress all your workers.
4 Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to strike with a wicked fist.
Such fasting as you do today
will not make your voice heard on high.
5 Is such the fast that I choose,
a day to humble oneself?
Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush,
and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast,
a day acceptable to the Lord?
6 Is not this the fast
that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
the glory of the Lord shall be your rearguard.
9 Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
the glory of the Lord shall be your rearguard.
9 Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’
Jesus fasted in the wilderness, he prayed in the
wilderness and then he exercised a ministry among the people which proclaimed
justice and mercy for the poor and the excluded, healing and wholeness for all
those in need. He sought out the despised and ate with them, he offered
forgiveness to the wrong-doer and he brought joy and feasting to those who chose
to follow him. He calls us to do the same.
And, as was promised, when Jesus called out to his Father
on the cross for help, the Lord answered and said: “Here I am” and he raised
him up on the third day
May our Lenten fast, whatever its form, lead us to act in
the world as he acted: to do justice, to love mercy and to walk humbly with our
God.
Amen
Sunday, 10 January 2016
Transformed into God's Glory - A Sermon for Epiphany
Ray Gaston's sermon for Epiphany can be listened to and downloaded here
Revd Sue Watson's Sermon for Christmas 2 on John's Prologue
Have
you ever wondered why the beginning of John’s Gospel is so prized as a reading
at Christmas? It’s the one Gospel reading we are told we must read at least
once at the Christmas day services…
And
yet, from all appearances, it would seem that John knows next to nothing about
angels or shepherds, stars or magi. He doesn't appear even to know the name of
Jesus' mother or her visit to her cousin Elizabeth – or at least, he doesn’t
mention either of them! He gives us no family tree and no information about
Joseph.
Why,
then, is this particular reading a particular option for Christmas Day and
again for this second Sunday after Christmas?
Well,
it’s because John’s words in these first few verses of his gospel capture the
heart, the meaning, and the benefits of the Christmas story - in a nutshell.
John’s
tone is super confident: did you notice how he begins his writing by repeating
the opening line of Scripture itself- “In the beginning…” – Genesis chapter 1,
when God created all things from nothing.
God spoke
and the world came into being : “Let there be light, and there was light; Let
the earth bring forth vegetation…let us make man in our image” : God spoke and
the Word spoken was the force behind creation itself.
And here
in John, is the Word:”In the beginning…was the Word.” Like the author of Genesis, John too is
talking about creation, God's new
creation in Christ, God made flesh.
This is
poetry, with power! To explore it more closely, let’s use the five ‘W’s…What,
Why, Who, Where and When.
First of all, what is John telling us about what is happening through Jesus?
Jesus, according to John, has been a part of
creation from the very beginning. What is happening now is that God's eternal
Word – the means through which he created everything and by which we exist - God’s
Word is coming down to earth to take on human flesh. The most extremely
significant event in the history of God’s dealings with us.
This is
not the first time God has become involved in human history, of course. God has
been at work in the world through covenants with Abraham and Moses, through the
giving of the Law, through judges, kings, and prophets. Yet now God is getting
more personally involved, as the very Word of God – the expression of who He is
-takes on human flesh and dwells with us in our own human form.
Why is this happening?
Because,
says John, the world that has fallen into darkness needs light! And so God
comes, prepared to struggle, light against darkness, day against night. That
struggle is captured in verse 5: "The light shines on in the darkness, and
the darkness has not overcome it."
Who does this affect?
It
affects us all: this event, says John, is a new creation, a new beginning and a
new beginning means new possibility for everyone! Even though many, including
many who were close to him, did not recognize in Jesus what God was
accomplishing, all those who do recognize and receive him are invited to become
God's own children: verse12 “But to all who received him, who believed in his
name he gave power to become children of God”. An invitation to something new.
And John says we have the freedom to
accept God’s invitation to new life: children of God are born not of blood (in
other words, we won’t be subject to the frailties of human flesh forever), or
of the will of the flesh (we are more than our desires), or of the will of
humans (we will not always be subject to whim and will of others). We can
become children of God freely, restored to God's original intention for us in
creation.
Where and when does this new creation take place?
Not just in a manger long ago, but here,
today, now! Perhaps this is why John gives such scant attention to the details
of Jesus' birth. He is, ultimately, more interested in our birth, our new birth
as children of God. According to John, that is, the main focus of Christmas is
not really on Jesus' birthday at all; rather, it is on ours.
Christmas is the day we celebrate our birth as
children of God, it’s the keeping of all God's promises, and the beginning of
the restoration of all creation.
==========================================
John may not tell us anything about the details of the Christmas story, but he does know about the heart and soul – the true meaning - of the Incarnation, of what it means for God to become human.
John may not tell us anything about the details of the Christmas story, but he does know about the heart and soul – the true meaning - of the Incarnation, of what it means for God to become human.
Jesus - who
is the very embodiment of God's grace – becomes fully human, and as a result, we
are granted the chance to know the unknowable God and recognize ourselves as
children beloved of God. As verse 18 says: “No one has ever seen God. It is …
the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.”
This is
the gift of Christmas, a new identity, a new opportunity, a new humanity
knowing God in our lives – a gift received through Christ. This is the gift of
Christmas, and it deserves our full attention on this day and, indeed,
throughout the year.
John's
prologue is, in many ways, a hymn to the Word, the Word that created in the
beginning, created again in Jesus, and still creates when anyone receives Jesus
in faith.
This
passage is packed with meaning and metaphor, and perhaps can best be understood
more as a poetic testimony to the light, life, and living Word of God.
John’s
opening verses sum up the reason why Jesus came to us as a vulnerable human
being – as a gift, a chance to start again, to be a new creation.
So today, we have an opportunity to
contemplate more quietly than perhaps we have on Christmas day, the profound
mystery of the Incarnation, the doctrine at the heart of Christmas and to which
John gives witness.
And as we
anticipate the New Year of 2016, with all its hope for new and better things, we
can reflect more fully on God’s great gift of the possibility for new life, received through believing in
his Son, the creative Word made flesh.
Monday, 28 December 2015
RADICAL DISCIPLESHIP: CALLED TO CHANGE - Preached by Annie Saunders Christmas 1
May I speak in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
in Love
Today we look at both our readings. Let’s look at their context first to understand what it means when God calls people like Samuel – people like us – to radical discipleship.
In our Old Testament reading we encounter Samuel, great judge and prophet of Israel. It’s around 1150 BCE and he’s a small boy in the Temple. His mother Hannah dedicated Samuel to serve God so he lives in the Temple in the care of Eli the elderly chief priest. We read that Samuel ministered at the altar before the Lord and that as he grew, he was held in great favour by the Lord and by the people. Especially for his integrity. In the following chapter Samuel, still a little boy, hears God calling him in the depths of the night. And he responds – “Here I am”, each time.
Samuel goes on to become Israel’s great prophet at a time when the people are calling out for a king. Samuel tells them they are wrong – God is their King – why would they need a human king? And why would they want the unjust, unequal, hierarchical society which will come with kingship? The people get their wish and Samuel is forced to appoint Saul, then David as kings of Israel. Thirty or forty years on, during Solomon’s reign, David’s son, the development of power and the magnificence of royalty, court and the elite, has grown so much that social equality and justice are ideas of the past.
But Samuel, the prophet, was known throughout his life as a
follower of the Lord who wanted the Israelites to build a just society – the
one God wanted for His chosen people. A radical disciple of the Lord’s – called
to build God’s kingdom, a thousand years before Christ came.
And so we come to our Gospel extract – Jesus as a boy in
the Temple at Jerusalem. The family have gone to Jerusalem for the annual
Passover feast. Jesus, about twelve years old, stays behind listening and
talking to the priests and teachers in the Temple. His parents think he’s with
other family in their party and don’t realise for a day, he isn’t with them.
They return and find Jesus in the Temple, three days later. Jesus’ reply to
Mary’s question is striking. Mary asks, “Son, why have you treated us this way
– we’ve been searching for you in great anxiety?” Jesus responds, “Why were you
searching for me, didn’t you know I must be in my Father’s house?” The original
Greek translates literally as, “didn’t you know I must be in the things of my
Father?” In other words, Jesus is saying He must be about God’s affairs, the
things His Father is doing in the world and He must be doing what His Father is
doing.
We are reminded of what Mary said God is doing in the world
in the Magnificat: “bringing the powerful down from their thrones and lifting
up the lower people, filling hungry people with good things and sending the
rich people away, empty.” This is what God is doing in the world through Jesus’
birth, turning it up-side-down, to facilitate the creation of a kingdom of God,
of Love, not power exercised by kings. This is Jesus’ mission – he already
knows he’s been called by God the Father. Like Samuel, he is already separated
a little from his family. Later there will be a wider family of disciples and
church.
Jesus’ call from God is of course unique – He is the Son, a
part of God Himself, born that first Christmas for His divine mission on earth.
But you and I are also called by God, individually and as a community to fulfil
Jesus’ mission on earth. Samuel, Jesus the Son, Peter, Paul, Mary Magdalene,
young John, Matthew the ex-tax collector, all called by God to His service and
to love and change the world. Called to radical discipleship.
Jesus was and is revolutionary – radical. We are called to grow like Him – so – God calls us to be radical followers, radical disciples of Christ, our friend and Master. What does it mean to be a radical disciple of Jesus? Well – let’s see – what doesn’t it mean? It doesn’t mean following sets of rules – radical disciples follow and love a real Being, Christ our Lord. It doesn’t mean doing good works to earn a place in Heaven – Jesus did that for us. Neither does it mean being a good person. None of us humans are good, only through God’s grace do we become the good beings, the saints we were created by God to be. Being a radical disciple of Jesus doesn’t mean being a member of an exclusive club – like membership of an elitist golf club. It does mean being a member of a wider family of believers, of a community of disciples and it does mean being inclusive of all sorts of people. Being a radical disciple doesn’t mean just a cosy spiritual relationship between me and God. It does mean loving God and ourselves enough for our love to seep, to percolate even shine out and be shared with others.
So what else does radical discipleship mean? It means living Jesus’ mission – loving God, serving Him, building His kingdom of Love and Justice around us in our world. It means living a life of service, forgiveness, mercy, of hope. A life in which we answer Christ’s call to us with, “Here I am Lord. Your servant is listening”, like Samuel. A life of radical discipleship in which we continually answer, “Yes Lord”, “Yes”, “Yes”, “Yes”.
Now I want us to think about us at Saint Chad and Saint Mark, about us as a family. Many of us have our own families big and small and those relationships are vitally important, part of our call to love. And then there’s us – this family, each of us here, each of us elsewhere for today. All of us belong to our wider Saint Chad and Saint Mark family. We are sisters and brothers, fellow disciples, followers, servants, friends of our Lord and of each other. So how do we as a community, as a family, answer God’s call to radical discipleship?
Let’s consider where we’re at. We’re all going through quite a time of transition. Since Ray started in October we’ve begun a period of change, a time of experiment, a time to give ourselves as a community over to the workings of God’s Holy Spirit. Allowing the fluidity which the Spirit brings to take place in what we do, how we do it, what we are and where the Spirit is taking us. What sort of changes? Well – changes in liturgy, change in the All Together service, change in music – less hymns – change in how we communicate information, changes in roles, change in how we relate to each other. Sometimes it feels like you can’t keep up! Change is difficult; creativity can be messy, think of artists, think of childbirth (or rather don’t think of childbirth), think of toddlers. And the Holy Spirit is very very creative. So, life in our family for us at present can, sometimes seem confusing, demanding, incomprehensible sometimes – but then there are surprises. And joy and laughter and love. And I’ve been seeing all these things recently.
So, for all of us, as we go into 2016, the question I ask is – so how do we grow together even more during this time of change and be radical disciples of Christ our Lord? The best description of how a community of followers lives, works and cares together is found in Paul’s letter to the Colossians in chapter 3. Our readers will come to our crib and read it for us:
“As God’s chosen ones, holy
and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness,
and patience. Bear with one
another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other;
just as the Lord has forgiven
you, so you also must forgive. Above
all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect
harmony. And let the peace of
Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body.
And be thankful. Let the word of
Christ dwell in you richly; teach
and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing
psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And
whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus,
giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
God’s chosen ones, the people He calls, holy and beloved – that’s us. And at the centre of who we are as a community, at the heart of all we are and do – is Jesus. When we meet together to worship, let’s sing together with thanks in our hearts and worship Him with our hymns and songs together as His Saint Chad and Saint Mark family. His family of followers, His bunch of radical disciples who come together here to praise and love Him, our Lord, our Friend.
Amen
Friday, 25 December 2015
Becoming Mothers of God - A Homily for Christmas Morning preached by Ray Gaston
We meet here on
this morning, this wonderful morning in which we remember the story of the
incarnation our hope rooted in our experience of the Christ story; that God is
here, God is amongst us, God is with us.
And we gather here to worship that God; to gather around this crib and marvel at the truth of the Nativity — the truth that out of the warm nurturing darkness of a woman’s womb God chose the ultimate message of faith, hope and love to be born ; that in the dark of night, God’s vision for the world became embodied in a human life, born of a woman and that in Jesus the truth that God IS present with God’s people was shown - the ancient message of the God of love and faithfulness and hope was revealed anew.
But as we meet to remember that event we are called to remain in the here and now, to allow that story to affect our story, to allow that truth to lead us into the truth of the meaning of our own lives.
As a Christian Mystic of medieval times said
'What good is it that Christ was born all those years ago if he is not born now in your heart?'.
And we gather here to worship that God; to gather around this crib and marvel at the truth of the Nativity — the truth that out of the warm nurturing darkness of a woman’s womb God chose the ultimate message of faith, hope and love to be born ; that in the dark of night, God’s vision for the world became embodied in a human life, born of a woman and that in Jesus the truth that God IS present with God’s people was shown - the ancient message of the God of love and faithfulness and hope was revealed anew.
But as we meet to remember that event we are called to remain in the here and now, to allow that story to affect our story, to allow that truth to lead us into the truth of the meaning of our own lives.
As a Christian Mystic of medieval times said
'What good is it that Christ was born all those years ago if he is not born now in your heart?'.
We are all
called to be Mothers of God
Mary’s story should become our story, we are all
called to be Mothers of God to give birth to the Divine through our faith, hope
and love.
I love Luke’s gospel because it tells us so much of
Mary’s story. And we should read it as our story too - a story for each of us
as God calls us to give birth to God’s vision for the world in our faith, our
hope and our love.
Can we welcome as messengers of God’s hope
strangers who speak to us of God? Mary welcomed the shepherds to the side of
the manger, can we listen as she listened to their message and as the gospel
says ‘treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart’? Can we also find God speaking to us in those unknown to us, who
surprise us in their ability to speak of God? Can we allow them to become to us
bearers of God’s word?
As Elizabeth embraced Mary and supported her in
recognising the message of hope she carried for the world, can we embrace one
another - be Elizabeth to each other’s Mary - can we be stirred in the depths
of our hearts to be excited by the faith, hope and love of another and
encourage them as they tentatively begin to recognise that they have a calling
to birth God’s faith, hope and love into the world?
As the Angel comes to Mary at the annunciation - the Angel comes to us, calling us in this time and in this place to carry the hope of God in the depths of our being - to nurture fragile faith, to give ourselves to feeding hope and raising a vision of love in what can sometimes seem impossible circumstances.
In a world where faith, hope and love often look defeated and useless we are called to dare to take the risk as Mary in her embracing of her call took the risk; as a young Jew in a remote outpost of empire, facing the scorn and violence of a Roman authority confident
in its worship of power and wealth and dismissive of the beautiful vision of her people. She held onto that vision of a God of faithfulness, hope and love - the God of Abraham and Sarah, the God of the One Mary raised, the God of the One we follow, Jesus of Nazareth whom we proclaim as God's Annointed One.
As she put her hope in that God so are we called in our time despite the world’s scorn to join in daring to hope in the One God of faith hope and love.
Can we believe that in the backwaters of our lives our faith can really make a difference? Can we let God come to us in Jesus in what may seem to us all our insignificance? Can we hear the Angel as we are given our commission, to be people of the way and to give birth in our world to the truth of God's love and beauty?
O holy Child of Bethlehem!
Descend to
us, we pray;
Cast out our sin and enter in,
Be born in us to-day.
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!
Cast out our sin and enter in,
Be born in us to-day.
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!
'Stars and trees and waters stand still for an instant' - A Homily for Christmas Night preached by Ray Gaston
'The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light’, proclaims Isaiah in our reading
tonight. The messianic promise is that oppression will be lifted and peace will
reign, but what kind of peace and what kind of Messiah?
There is a strong strand in religious tradition that equates darkness with evil and light with good. It’s an influential strand that some believe dates back to Persian Zoroastrianism, with its coeternal spirits of good and evil and it lives powerfullytoday in Star Wars movies! This view was also influential in some of the heretical movements in the early church. But much of Abrahamic faith does not buy into such easy separations, such clear dualisms, for the paths that claim a root in Abraham proclaim One God who is Lord of all, One God who is both God of the night and of the day, of the dark and of the light. As the Psalmist proclaims: ‘the darkness and the light are both alike to you.’
And we gather here in the dark of night to worship that God; to gather around this crib and marvel at the truth of the Nativity — the truth that in the warm nurturing darkness of a woman’s womb God chose to be; that in the dark of night God became human, revealing the truth that there need be no separation between the human and the divine. As one ancient wrote: ‘God became human that we might become divine.’
The images of darkness and light that
do run through our scripture — the images of Christ as the light that darkness
cannot extinguish— are not there to set up the dualism between light and dark
but to show that the phantoms of the night, the fear of the dark, are the
creations of our imagination and a demonstration of the weakness, yes the
weakness of evil. For God comes in the night to claim the night from the
phantoms and fantasies of our mind that give power to weak and floundering
evil. God comes in the night to show us that the dark is indeed God’s place too
and perhaps the night is a holy and sacred time, a time of revelation, wonder
and awe. The beauty of a real night sky — breath-taking beauty such as the
night skies of the Middle Eastern desert — it’s only in such real darkness away
from the false modern city lights that the true beauty of the stars’ natural
light can be seen. Our city lights drown out the wonder of natural darkness and
its intimate relationship with true light: the desert sky is darkness and light
in a partnership of beauty revealing the wonder of God’s universe.
And so monks and nuns have, down the centuries, risen in the dead of night to pray; and in the early church not only monks and nuns but all Christians were encouraged to rise in the middle of the night to pray. The Early Church Father Hippolytus said:
Around midnight, rise and wash your hands with water and pray. If you are married, pray together… For those elders who handed down the tradition to us taught us that in this hour every creature hushes for a brief moment to praise the Lord. Stars and trees and waters stand still for an instant. All the host of angels serving him, together with the souls of the righteous, praise God.
And our brothers and sisters in Islam cherish the spirituality of the night too, for one of the last ten days of Ramadan is the Night of Power when Muslims believe the first words of the Qur’an were revealed to Muhammad. And on that night heaven is open wide and angels, one Muslim friend told me, descend in their thousands to the earth to hear the prayers of believers. And so many devout Muslims rise to pray at night during those last days of Ramadan in the hope of the angels hearing and taking their prayers to paradise.
And it was angels who came to those people of the night, the shepherds, to proclaim the birth of Jesus:
Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord.
… said the lone angel, to be followed by a host:
But what kind of Messiah? What kind of peace?
In a world in which dualisms of easy categorisations of good and bad, where opposites of the theories of the 'clash of civilisations' and easy dismissals and retreats from the Other often with deadly consequences abound - where in Bethlehem itself a wall of oppression, division and fear rises up - we are called to embrace this Messiah, this incarnate God who comes not to bring peace through conquest - the overcoming of the opposite — but through relationship. This God calls us not to set up easy opposites but to see our connection with the other, as light and dark work together to produce the beauty of the night sky. This new truly revolutionary Messiah, this Jesus, the God who is not a god in the way we think we know, calls us to live this Good News, to live this peace, the peace of Christmas, the peace of the night. To open our hearts to the Other, the different, and in so doing to be transformed and to transform, to become stars in the night sky, and as a human race to be what God made us to be: participants in Divine beauty, love and truth.
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