A Christmas sermon preached by the Rev’d Dr Daniel Dries Christ Church St Laurence – 24 & 25 December 2016 May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight: O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer. Amen. In the annals of history, 2016 will be remembered as a year of political upheaval, social unrest, and a year in which there was great enthusiasm for the building of walls. As we gather here in the beauty of holiness, we might be tempted to forget, just for a moment, all that is happening in our world. In all of this reverence and peace, we might to choose to ignore frightening political trends, and the alarming and angry voices increasingly trying to dominate Western democracies. Instead, we could focus entirely on the warm and fuzzy aspects of Christmas. The department stores have been doing this for months as they lure us into purchasing yet more things that we do not need—retail therapy as it is known. However, as we kneel at the manger, we cannot forget what has taken place in our world during this past year; after all, the Birth of Our Lord is a story completely concerned with political tension, social upheaval, and the horror of bigotry and intolerance. On the 9th of November this year, a man was elected to a position that has often been described as ‘the leader of the free world’. A significant part of this election campaign centred on the building of a wall to divide two nations; a wall that would divide the ‘haves’ from the ‘have-nots’. Ironically, on the same day, the 9th of November, the people of Berlin celebrated the anniversary of the bringing down of a wall that divided their city for almost 30 years. In the Christmas story, we reflect on the plight of a fragile and vulnerable family, who also had some difficulty getting to the right side of the wall. As millions of Christmas nativities decorate our world at this time, we could easily forget that this family, through no fault of their own, was locked out. Definitely part of the ‘have-nots’, Mary and Joseph looked in vain for a safe place for the birth of their child. As Christians, we believe that God chose to break into this world in the form of a poor and vulnerable baby. Some Christians suggest that Christianity is about world domination and supremacy, and yet here we are again gazing upon an innocent and completely dependent child— the Incarnation; God dwelling among us. Early 20th Century theologian, Austin Farrer reminds us of the simplicity and innocence of this divine revelation as he writes: Yet Mary holds her finger out, and a divine hand closes on it. The maker of the world is born a begging child; he begs for milk, and does not know that it is milk for which he begs. We will not lift our hands to pull the love of God down to us, but he lifts his hands to pull human compassion down upon his cradle.i This was no king born on the right side of a castle wall. In case the reader is in any doubt, Luke’s Gospel tells us that the first visitors to the manger were a group of shepherds. 2000 years of syrupy Christmas films and ghastly songs may have dulled our senses to the fact that this scenario is simply preposterous. Shepherds didn’t go visiting new-born babies. Their sole purpose in life was to preserve the lives of the sheep in their care. How did they do this? They used a wall. Shepherds would take their flock to fertile pastures during the day and, at night, they would go to a sheepfold—a walled enclosure with one very small opening. A shepherd would literally lay down his life for the sheep as he slept in the doorway. Shepherds would not have left the safety of Page | 1
the sheepfold to see a baby; it’s absurd. It may be absurd, but perhaps they went looking for something that all right-thinking human beings crave—they were looking for peace. An angel guided them to this place in the pursuit of peace, and they thought that this absurd and dangerous midnight journey was worth the risk. At Christmas, even people of no faith, often leave the safety of their sheepfold. At Christmas, many of us will allow walls of division to be lowered, even temporarily. Billions of people across the world will sit down to dine with family members who may not always be easy to love; long-standing feuds may be put on hold just for a few hours. Even for people of no faith, Christmas is an annual reminder that we all crave peace… we just don’t know how to go about it. In Luke’s Gospel the shepherds go to the crib because an angel tells them about a mysterious reign of peace. Matthew’s Gospel depicts wise men travelling vast distances to worship a great ruler. John’s Gospel tells us of the revealing of the glory of God, full of grace and truth. The contrasting Gospel accounts of the Incarnation all affirm the very real truth that human beings desperately yearn for grace and peace. Even the secular world acknowledges this at Christmas; marketing experts shamelessly capitalise on it. We all crave peace, but we don’t know how to go about it. A little over 100 years ago, it is believed that British, Belgian, French and German troops embarked on an even more absurd journey than that of the shepherds. There are many accounts of the ‘Christmas Eve Truce’, as enemy soldiers literally dropped their guard to express their deep desire for peace. A few months into what would be a devastating War, soldiers on the western front allowed themselves to be led away from the safety of their trenches. As we still find today, music and the memories it generates has a powerful effect on our emotions. As we have driven about Christmas shopping, my own children have been subjected to the swooping tones of Bing Crosby and Dean Martin. These re-released Christmas recordings instantly transport me back to my Grandmother’s Christmas lunches. My children probably attribute my uncharacteristic musical selection to some sort of mid-life crisis. First World War soldiers in the trenches reminisced with Christmas music rather more profound than my own questionable selections. One soldier recorded the following in his diary: “First the Germans would sing one of their carols and then we would sing one of ours, until when we started up ‘O Come, All Ye Faithful’ the Germans immediately joined in singing the same hymn to the Latin words Adeste Fideles. And I thought, well, this is really a most extraordinary thing—two nations both singing the same carol in the middle of a war.” …The next morning, in some places, German soldiers emerged from their trenches, calling out “Merry Christmas” in English.ii Stories of the ‘Christmas Eve Truce’ were widespread. The short-lived truce demonstrated that rightthinking human beings of every culture and faith tradition crave lasting peace. One British soldier reflected years later: “I then came to the conclusion that I have held very firmly ever since, that if we had been left to ourselves there would never have been another shot fired.”iii Page | 2
You may not realise it, but you are not unlike a bunch of first century shepherds. You have left the safety of your home to kneel at the feet of a tiny child, born two thousand years ago; an innocent child with its fist clutched around its mother’s finger. Yours has been an absurd journey, at least it would be if this were the end of it. We are here because, like every other right-thinking person on this planet, we crave lasting peace; and we see this grace and peace made manifest in a tiny child, and yet we allow ourselves to be led by angry and divisive voices, encouraging hatred and division. A soldier who is now long-dead, reflected that peace would have been achievable if it had been left to ordinary people like us. In these uncertain terms, peace will only be achievable if left to people like us; ordinary people like a group of shepherds making an absurd journey to reflect a desperate desire for peace. I wish you; your families and friends a holy and blessed Christmas, and I pray that, as you go forth from this place, you will take the peace of the Christ child to a world that desperately needs it. As others encourage fear, hatred and division, don’t lose sight of a God who chose to reveal himself in deepest humility and love; God with us, full of grace and truth. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. i
Austin Farrer, from ‘Said or sung’, cited Celebrating the Seasons, Canterbury Norwich Press © 1999 See http://time.com/3643889/christmas-truce-1914/ iii ibid ii
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