On Boxing Day one of my colleagues made the mistake of saying Christmas was over- it certainly is not!! I didn't spend Advent in (sort of) prayerful preparation to let it all be done in one day. I'm not ready to leave the manger yet. As my church colleague Vaughan preached this morning, that manger is the calm eye of the storm on either side of Christmas, and I plan to rest there for twelve days.
The following reflection is an amalgamation of the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day entries from Bishop Stephen Cottrell's book "Do Nothing... Christmas is Coming: An Advent Calendar with a Difference".
“So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody’s having fun; look to the future now it’s only just begun.”
So sang Slade all those years ago (and in every shop in England for the past six weeks!), but here’s the nub, the real clue to the future: Mary listened to angels and found things born in her; travelled great distances and found things given to her; Joseph listened to dreams and found reality; the shepherds left their work and found their joy; and wise men abandoned the wisdom, charts, maps, compasses and guidebooks that they already possessed to follow a new star that was rising before them.
In order to listen and in order to dream; in order to smile with joy and in order to travel vast distances; in order to learn new ways and trust new leaders; you first need to stop, to take stock of what you really want from life and where you will really find the direction, affirmation and purposes you seek. It is the longest journey you will ever make. It requires a complete reorientation. It is also the shortest – its beginning and end can be found in the stable at Bethlehem, a way in a manger.
One of my best Christmas memories is from the church in Chichester where I was the parish priest. Because the building was so small, and because every other available inch of space was needed for chairs, we used to put the crib underneath the altar.
One Christmas morning, about halfway through the service, a little girl, Miriam, toddled up to the front of the church. She can only have been about two or three at the time. For several minutes she stood before the crib, gazing intently at the figures. Then, very carefully, so as not to wake the baby, she stepped inside and sat down.
And as people looked at the crib that Christmas, as well as the shepherds and the angels and the ox and the ass, and Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus, they saw Miriam. She sat there for the rest of the service, content to have become part of the story. She was the best Christmas sermon I have ever experienced
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