Month: December 2020

Isaiah 60.1-6, Matthew 2.1-12

The Epiphany, 3rd January 2021

Austwick, Clapham and online

“There are angels singing new songs – at the king’s court; 

There the bells are ringing – at the king’s court. O that we were there!” [1]

The last verse of In Dulci Jubilo gives us a sense of the spirit in which those magi travelled on their journey to find a special new-born king. Their mood of anticipation, confidence, hope.

To be clear, they weren’t kings, those mysterious magi, but they were at home in the company of kings. They are likely to have been priests of the Persian empire or seers, magicians, interpreters of dreams in the court of their king. Either way they would be deeply embedded in the courtly scene. Little wonder that on their journey of exploration they made for Jerusalem’s palace to meet up with Herod’s coterie of priests and scribes.

They didn’t find angels singing new songs in King Herod’s court. His rage and its consequences are another story told on another feast, the Feast of the Holy Innocents, but those dark doings hover on the edge, or just below the surface, of the events narrated here. The only bells ringing in the ears of those sage travellers at Herod’s court would be alarm bells – for they were wise enough to tell the difference between the truth and the lie in Herod’s expressed desire to go and worship the new-born king. By becoming foils to the king’s blatant deception and calculated manipulation, by failing to return to Herod with directions as he’d requested, these courtiers took a great risk. For Herod’s rage at their betrayal would have doubtless sounded all the way back to Persia. [2]

What – besides their heads – might they have lost by breaking courtly conventions in this way? Their reputations as trustworthy employees of princes and kings; their priestly integrity in the eyes of their peers. Their protection of the infant Jesus was an act which we can imagine may have cost them dearly. What was it about Jesus that made them feel it was worthwhile risking giving up their status, giving up their established, secure positions in life, giving up being sure about what their future would hold? What meaning did they find in the songs they heard the angels singing, what inspiration in the bells they heard ringing at the court of the new king? What made them so willing to give up so much, and take a new direction in life, for the worship of this child?

Giving up our old ways is never easy: kingdoms in terminal decline resist all efforts by their people to take a new direction. Consider the kingdom of Herod the Great, his power established through a colossal programme of building projects throughout Judea including the renovation of Jerusalem’s Second Temple. Herod’s achievements were built on a taxation system that heavily burdened the Judean people, who resented his frequent lavish spending on expensive gifts to enhance his reputation which emptied the kingdom’s coffers. Late in his reign – around the time the magi called – Herod the Great was fiercely protecting his gains by prohibiting protests and having opponents removed by force. He had a bodyguard of 2,000 soldiers, and built five fortresses in which he and his family could take refuge in case of insurrection. [3]

This story calls out to us today, for it no longer seems ridiculous to suggest that we are in – or moving rapidly into – the last days of the kingdom – the world-system – which is all we’ve ever known. The signs of this terminal decline are all around us. 2020 began with record-breaking floods in Indonesia and Australian bushfires creating a smoke cloud 620 miles wide and 21 miles high, three times bigger than anything seen in the world before, spreading so far that black charcoal reached Antarctica, [4] whilst in east Africa and west Asia swarms of locusts bigger than cities, larger and denser than any in living memory, darkened the skies and devoured the land. [5] 

This year begins with the world’s nations in a social and economic turmoil brought on by a pandemic which shares its root cause with these extreme material events: the disruption of nature for human exploitation, to serve what we might call a kingdom which for two centuries has greatly enriched much of humankind, but for what has turned out to be short-term gains at the expense of the earth, its creatures and our human future. 

The distinguished writer Ursula K. Le Guin has said, “We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings.” [6] Of course, resistance to change is fierce, from those who have the most to lose by giving up these ways of our industrialised, globalised lives. It feels like the last days of Herod over again. Even down to the greatest threat to the kingdom coming in the form of the smallest, most vulnerable child. Greta Thunberg, who turns 18 years old today, once said of her diagnosis with Asperger’s syndrome, OCD and selective mutism, ‘That basically means I only speak when I think it’s necessary. Now is one of those moments.’ [7]

It will be hard for us to give up some of those things necessary for the flourishing of Greta’s grandchildren’s generation, and the earth which they will share. But – you know from your own experience – you will give something up if you sense it’s for a higher cause, if you’re sure it will make something better. I’m so thankful for those who have given up things for me: those who have given their time and talents to nurture me as a child, their gifts to teach me, their skills to heal and restore. I’m so awed by those who give up their retirement time to volunteer for community efforts which help the vulnerable ones or bring joy to the lonely ones around. I’m humbled by young people who, in the prime of their life, put their heart and soul into activities like restoring old woodlands or working in animal sanctuaries or coaching younger children in sports. 

What is it that makes such people feel it worthwhile giving up their time and skills for others? What meaning do they find in the generous activities they perform? What makes them so willing to give up so much, and take a new direction in life, for the sake of others? There’s something of an Epiphany theme going on here.

As the writer and community activist Bill Wylie-Kellermann has said, ‘Epiphany is marching orders for the community of faith. It sends. As much as any other season it sets before us a public agenda. We ought to be both be sobered and encouraged, for by it our authority to preach to the nations, to speak truth to power, is spelled out. Not, however, an abstract truth, but an incarnational one, a truth rooted in Christ which manifestly must first take form in our own life.’ That same light which the magi followed, that light which enlightens all who give up in the cause of goodness, ‘Let the light be in us.’ [8]

 

Notes

[1] Bach Cantatas Website: Chorale Texts used in Bach’s Vocal Works: In dulci jubilo: Text and Translation of Chorale.

[2] This paragraph reworks material from Bill Wylie-Kellermann, Seasons of Faith and Conscience: Explorations in Liturgical Direct Action, p.154.

[3] Wikipedia: Herod the Great.

[4] Jonathan Watts, Floods, storms and searing heat: 2020 in extreme weather. Guardian, 30 December 2020.

[5] Andreas Malm, Corona, Climate, Chronic Emergency: War Communism in the Twenty-First Century. p.2-3.

[6] Ursula K. Le Guin, Acceptance Speech, The National Book Foundation Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters, 19 November 2014.

[7] Wikipedia: Greta Thunberg.

[8] Bill Wylie-Kellermann, Seasons of Faith and Conscience: Explorations in Liturgical Direct Action, p.156.

Isaiah 61.10-62.3, Psalm 148, Luke 2.15-21

The First Sunday of Christmas, 27th December 2020

Clapham and online

Psalm 148: part 1

1 Alleluia. Praise the Lord from the

heavens; praise him in the heights.

2 Praise him, all you his angels;

praise him, all his host.

3 Praise him, sun and moon;  

praise him, all you stars of light.

4 Praise him, heaven of heavens, 

and you waters above the heavens.

5 Let them praise the name of the Lord, 

for he commanded and they were created.

6 He made them fast for ever and ever; 

he gave them a law 

which shall not pass away.

 

I was driving through Gargrave the other evening and was surprised to see a large gathering of people on the hard standing outside The Dalesman. What was this, I wondered for a moment: a lockdown protest?, a large party of hikers spilling out from the tearoom? But it soon became clear that this was the village coming together – at a safe distance of course – to sing carols heartily and with smiles on their faces.

One thing is certain this Christmastime – that people’s passion for singing is not diminished. It wasn’t just in Gargrave of course; witness the wonderful outdoor carol services we’ve had here, and those you’ve seen or heard about in so many other towns and villages. There are some things about us which we can’t hold back for long. One is that we are born to sing. Or as a Psalmist might say – we are made for praise. 

We’re like Isaiah, whose heart exploded with these words: “I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my whole being shall exult in my God.” There’s a sense here that it’s not just that we can choose to use our bodies and our lungs to praise God – it’s more that God himself has created us in such a way that we are most ourselves when we are praising him.

Here’s a thought for the year’s end. Just as at Christmas we enjoyed the rare opportunity to have a good sing together, so, earlier in the year, did the rest of Creation. Recall last spring when commerce went silent and nature sang; when the roads emptied and the creatures emerged to fill the void and occupy the spaces we usually dominate. It was one of the most remarkable aspects of that first lockdown, the rest of creation’s flourishing whilst we were retreating. Something we might have cause to rejoice over, but which may also give us pause for humble thought.

Think how it feels, missing singing together, being isolated and silenced by forces beyond our control – is this how it usually is for the earth and its creatures, with their voices, the ways they express themselves, suppressed under human domination?

For it’s not just we humans who are made to praise. In God’s great Universe it’s never just about us. The composer of Psalm 148 helps us celebrate this wonderful truth: that all Creation is made for praise. From the heavens with their angels, the sun, moon and shining stars, to all the creatures of land, sea and sky, and people of all classes and all ages. Praising the Creator: this is the common task of all Creation, the vocation of every living being together.

Do you share my hope that 2021 will be a year for mending what has been broken in recent times? If that is our intention then surely one of our most creative and essential tasks will be to help the earth to find its voice again. To make a habit of stepping back so that the creatures and seas, mountains and trees, can step forward as we form a combined choir of praise – each one of us giving the others space to express ourselves truly as we are.

On a global scale this is vital, given the knowledge that we have that climate change and pandemics have the same root cause – the commercial destruction of vast territories, whose trees absorb and store the carbon dioxide that would otherwise drive global heating, and whose creatures host the viruses which remain safely self-contained within their habitats until disturbances or destruction force the animals into human territory where transmission can take place. [1] 

The rainforests are often called ‘the lungs of the planet’, but they are being fatally asphyxiated by our insatiable demands for more – beef, crops, oil – ravaging them at the rate of 150 acres a minute. [2] If we could only hear their choking voices saying ‘I can’t breathe’. And if you can’t breathe, you can by no means sing.

If our empires are set on a way which squeezes the earth until it expires, our faith is in one whose Spirit restores breath to dying lungs – and with whose help we may hear the forests sing again. [3]

May 2021 be a year when we each, in our place, find our own ways to create room for the creatures and the earth around us to thrive. If we’re inclined towards lobbying, by letter writing and other means we can keep nudging along those in the corridors of power. On a local scale we can do this together: many Parish Councils including ours are now committed to actively promoting biodiversity and reducing carbon emissions in their work and the wider community. [4]

Isn’t it good when we sing together? Isn’t it wonderful to consider that we become most ourselves when we find ways to share with the rest of Creation in singing the praise of the Creator? 

 

Psalm 148: part 2

7    Praise the Lord from the earth,  

you sea monsters and all deeps;

8 Fire and hail, snow and mist, 

tempestuous wind, fulfilling his word;

9 Mountains and all hills, 

fruit trees and all cedars;

10 Wild beasts and all cattle, 

creeping things and birds on the wing;

11  Kings of the earth and all peoples, 

princes and all rulers of the world;

12 Young men and women, 

old and young together; 

let them praise the name of the Lord.

13 For his name only is exalted, 

his splendour above earth and heaven.

14 He has raised up the horn of his people

and praise for all his faithful servants,  

the children of Israel, a people who are near him. Alleluia.

 

Notes

[1] See Andreas Malm, Corona, Climate, Chronic Emergency. War Communism in the Twenty-First Century.

[2] Rainforest Facts: The Disappearing Rainforests. Rain-Tree.com.

[3] Ezekiel 37.1-14.

[4] See Clapham cum Newby Parish Council meeting of 8 December 2020: To consider a suggestion that, further to the Climate Emergency resolutions of the House of Commons (May 2019), Craven District Council (August 2019) and the Yorkshire Dales National Park Authority (September 2019), the Parish Council resolve to declare a Climate Emergency. Minutes when available will be published on the Clapham, North Yorkshire village website: Parish Council page.

Keasden and Austwick 13 Dec; Clapham and Eldroth 20 Dec 

Come and join the celebration (Collison Valerie)  Christmas Children’s Choir: Christmas Classics For Children

Welcome and Introduction

With familiar readings, a variety of music and prayers to connect this story to our time, place and (everyday) people… For with all its wonder and light this is at heart a tale of ordinary people living through extraordinary circumstances… rather like us all, in 2020…

O come, O come, Emmanuel (Veni, veni, Emmanuel, translated John Mason Neale) The Cathedral Singers & John Bell: God Comes Tomorrow

Reading 1: The Birth of Jesus Foretold

Luke 1.26-38

26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 And he came to her and said, ‘Greetings, favoured one! The Lord is with you.’ 29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. 

30 The angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God. 31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.’ 

34 Mary said to the angel, ‘How can this be, since I am a virgin?’ 35 The angel said to her, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. 36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.’ 38 Then Mary said, ‘Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.’ Then the angel departed from her.

Prayer

Let us praise our young men and women. The Marys and Josephs of our day and time and place. Let us celebrate their embrace of life’s challenges and opportunities. May they find encouragement in their dreams of good days ahead and may we walk with them on their journey. Let us pray for young mothers-to-be in their time of waiting and wondering about the child they carry within them; and their partners seeking to support them and share their love. And let us pray for the Elizabeths we know: the older women bearing children, or bearing responsibility for older children, grandchildren: their time of life displaced by circumstances, their gifts of character drawn on to the full. The Marys and Josephs and Elizabeths of our time and place: may angels visit them all, to guide and warm and bless their days. Amen

The holly and the ivy (English traditional carol) Kate Rusby: Sweet Bells

Reading 2: The Birth of Jesus

Luke 2.1-7

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered. 4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

Prayer

Let us praise our innkeepers and hoteliers, our guest house owners and those who run cafes and restaurants. In these days of restriction and restraint, where opportunities to flourish are replaced by strategies to survive, let us celebrate their dedication to the task of providing hospitality. As the innkeeper in the story found a way to offer food and shelter to the needy couple at his door, let us give thanks for all who spend their days doing just that for the strangers who come knocking and the locals seeking fellowship and solace. And let us celebrate the hard and unappreciated work of the Augustus-ses and Quirinius-ses of our time: our leaders – those who struggle with the difficult issues facing our people and our world, those who encounter cynicism and criticism daily but who keep on with their task, holding on to some sense of public service. In this world in flux may they lead with creativity, wisdom and grace. Amen

O little town of Bethlehem (Phillips Brooks) The Choirboys: The Carols Album

The House of Christmas – G.K. Chesterton

 

There fared a mother driven forth

Out of an inn to roam;

In the place where she was homeless

All men are at home.

The crazy stable close at hand,

With shaking timber and shifting sand,

Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand

Than the square stones of Rome.

 

For men are homesick in their homes,

And strangers under the sun,

And they lay on their heads in a foreign land

Whenever the day is done.

Here we have battle and blazing eyes,

And chance and honour and high surprise,

But our homes are under miraculous skies

Where the yule tale was begun.

 

A Child in a foul stable,

Where the beasts feed and foam;

Only where He was homeless

Are you and I at home;

We have hands that fashion and heads that know,

But our hearts we lost – how long ago!

In a place no chart nor ship can show

Under the sky’s dome.

 

This world is wild as an old wives’ tale,

And strange the plain things are,

The earth is enough and the air is enough

For our wonder and our war;

But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings

And our peace is put in impossible things

Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings

Round an incredible star.

 

To an open house in the evening

Home shall men come,

To an older place than Eden

And a taller town than Rome.

To the end of the way of the wandering star,

To the things that cannot be and that are,

To the place where God was homeless

And all men are at home.

 

Reading 3: The Shepherds and the Angels

Luke 2.8-20

8 In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’ 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

14 

‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,

    and on earth peace among those whom he favours!’

15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.’ 16 So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17 When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19 But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

 

Prayer

Let us praise the shepherds who farm these hills and dales, let us celebrate their devotion to their animals in their particular place, let us give thanks for their dedication to providing food for the population to eat and for their deep-rooted practices of community life and fellowship. Let us praise all working men and women in their endless everyday tasks of contributing to the common good. The underappreciated, the underpaid, the newly redundant and longer-term unemployed: each of them deeply, keenly valued ones. May they know the peace and favour of which the angels sang. Amen

Angels from the realms of glory (James Montgomery) The Sixteen & Harry Christophers: A Traditional Christmas Carol Collection from The Sixteen

Reading 4: The Visit of the Wise Men

Matthew 2.1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, 2 asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ 3 When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; 4 and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. 5 They told him, ‘In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

6 “And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,

    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

for from you shall come a ruler

    who is to shepherd my people Israel.”’

7 Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. 8 Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ 9 When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 11 On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure-chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Prayer

Let us praise the scientists and explorers in pursuit of new insights into the realities of this planet on its solar round. The hobbyists who love to investigate the details of the skies and seas and land, the pharmacists composing drugs effective to save and sustain our lives, the naturalists offering insights in how we may prolong our time on this good but broken earth in good relation with the creatures, the soils and seas and all that they contain. May they find blessing in their journeys of exploration and may their offerings be welcomed by those they seek to serve. Amen 

As with gladness men of old (William Chatterton Dix) The Sixteen & Harry Christophers: A Traditional Christmas Carol Collection from The Sixteen

Reading 5: Jesus Is Presented in the Temple 

Luke 2.21-38

21 After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.

22 When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the law of the Lord, ‘Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord’), 24 and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, ‘a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons.’

25 Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. 26 It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. 27 Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, 28 Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying,

29 ‘Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; 30 for my eyes have seen your salvation, 31 which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, 32 a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.’

33 And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. 34 Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, ‘This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed 35 so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.’

36 There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband for seven years after her marriage, 37 then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshipped there with fasting and prayer night and day. 38 At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.

Prayer

Let us praise the elders of our world. Those who have  lived long lives, in devotion to their families, their community and their faith. We give thanks for the old ones like Simeon and Anna who have seen it all – and who resist weariness to instead watch and wait in hope for a new world to take shape for the sake of the young, for the good of the future. May they find blessing in their later years, a spirit unconstrained by failing bodies, a heart alive to the regenerative rhythm of God’s good earth. Amen

On Christmas night all Christians sing (Sussex Carol, traditional, attributed to Luke Wadding) Katie McMahon: Christmas Angels

In Memoriam (Ring out, wild bells) Alfred Lord Tennyson

[A poem chosen as being especially apposite for us as we say ‘good riddance’ to the plague year of 2020 and look to a hoped-for better time ahead]

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

   The flying cloud, the frosty light:

   The year is dying in the night;

Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

 

Ring out the old, ring in the new,

   Ring, happy bells, across the snow:

   The year is going, let him go;

Ring out the false, ring in the true.

 

Ring out the grief that saps the mind

   For those that here we see no more;

   Ring out the feud of rich and poor,

Ring in redress to all mankind.

 

Ring out a slowly dying cause,

   And ancient forms of party strife;

   Ring in the nobler modes of life,

With sweeter manners, purer laws.

 

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,

   The faithless coldness of the times;

   Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes

But ring the fuller minstrel in.

 

Ring out false pride in place and blood,

   The civic slander and the spite;

   Ring in the love of truth and right,

Ring in the common love of good.

 

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;

   Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;

   Ring out the thousand wars of old,

Ring in the thousand years of peace.

 

Ring in the valiant man and free,

   The larger heart, the kindlier hand;

   Ring out the darkness of the land,

Ring in the Christ that is to be.

O come all ye faithful (traditional, original Latin: Adeste Fideles) Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, Simon Preston & Sir David Willcocks: Essential Carols – The Very Best of King’s College, Cambridge

Blessing

Let us give thanks for the faithful men and women whose faithful contributions to the Christmas story fill us with joy and insight as to how we too may live. And let us give thanks for the faithful men, women and children of our day and time seeking to live in the light of the God revealed as a baby in Bethlehem. May that story inspire us, as we look towards the days ahead searching for wisdom and hope for ourselves and those who follow us. And so may the blessing of God almighty, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, be with us all – everyone in this divinely-loved world – this Christmas and always. Amen

God rest ye merry gentlemen (English traditional carol) Ivan Parker: Christmas Dreaming

Isaiah 9.2-7, Luke 2.1-20

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day 2020

Austwick, Eldroth, Keasden and online

Of all the things we’ve had to adjust to this year, for many the one which is still the most troubling is the facemask. It’s the practicalities of putting it on, especially when you’re wearing glasses and a hearing aid and a hat as well; it’s forgetting it and having to go back for it or forking out for a replacement one; it’s the blooming nuisance of your glasses steaming up all the time. And there’s the effect it has on the way we see each other. 

This is where we realise that I’m talking in an English country parish, for there are many other parts of our diocese where the wearing of masks or veils is a commonplace. But for us it’s new and unsettling. For we’re having to unlearn the idea that people who hide their faces are in some ways sinister, people we project our fears onto. We’re now learning how to read people’s body language in different ways. That veiled woman hobbling towards you on the high street – she’s no terrorist in disguise, that’s granny going down to collect her prescription. That hooded man, he’s no hooligan, it’s Bert from two doors down armed with his Craven Herald and pack of Werthers. Now ourselves masked men and veiled women, we’re learning like our Asian and Middle-Eastern neighbours how to use our eyes to express ourselves, how to read people by the movements of their head, neck and hands.

In her book called ‘Veil’, which explores the meanings of that item of facial covering, Rafia Zakaria describes how as a Muslim woman, she “stands in relation to a particular physical object”. [1] Well, now, we all stand in relation to our facemasks. Are we still ‘us’ when we’re wearing them? This is a big question, for in our particular culture – up until Covid-19 struck – we thought that people who wore masks were hiding something; that we couldn’t fully tell who they were with their faces concealed. Their face coverings formed a barrier of communication and understanding between us. They only became fully present and knowable to us when unmasked.

Today I want to suggest to you that the story of Christmas, the way the gospels tell it, is the story of God unmasked. The birth of Jesus was an act of revelation by a God whose face, until that point, had been hidden – in a burning bush, in a cloud of fire, behind a curtain at the heart of the Temple. This is the God who had once told Moses on the mountaintop, ‘I will not let you see my face; for no one shall see my face and live.’ [2] Clothed in mystery beforehand, suddenly through the screams of his mother birthing him, here was God in Jesus absolutely naked before humankind. 

When God is masked to us, when we think he’s hiding his face, we project our fears onto him. He is a sinister judge who we fear in anticipation of his violent acts of retribution. And – worst of all, perhaps – if we think God is masked, then he is distant from us. Unknowable. Unloving and unloveable.

But that night in Bethlehem God became unmasked. Naked and immediate. Knowable and loveable. Just as every baby is. And the world began to learn to not think of God as one who hides his face from us, but as one with whom we can commune just as we commune with each other. Fully divine still, yes, but fully human too. Exercising his lungs and rolling his eyes just as every newborn does. 

Because Jesus has been born into the world there is no longer any reason for anyone to think of God as a violent ogre, a sinister and brutal judge. For now we can plainly see what God is like by watching Jesus as he grows into a young man devoted to the scriptures, a teacher of reanimating truths which break through like Christmas lights into the world’s weary darkness, a Wonderful Counsellor, a Prince of Peace.

After the year we’ve had we might justifiably say that it feels like God has been hiding his face from us again. Failing to engage the cries of our hearts for healing and wholeness and an end to suffering and isolation. But the unmasking of God in Jesus invites us to see it this way: that God isn’t hiding, but is here alongside us sharing our humanness, as vulnerable as any baby.

Our masked God – the one we create in our fearful imaginings – is a God we expect to take the world by force and rule the world in power. But that’s our projection onto him, who we expect to be like every other human ruler. Instead, our God unmasked in Jesus is here alongside us in our suffering and isolation. Born of displaced parents in transit in a restless political world, his very existence threatened from birth by malignant forces (the Herods of the earth, I mean).

His instinct is to transform our world in love. His kingdom comes gently, through small acts of kindness, through the fellowship of friends, through the unveiling of those we mistakenly thought were enemies to be feared but who can instead become  our partners in shaping a new and better world. He is not any distance away at all, but alongside us and always available in any prayerful moment.

So take comfort, next time you find yourself mumbling into a piece of cloth you’d rather you were not wearing. There is light and joy in this good news: that Christmas is God unmasked. 

 

Notes

[1] Rafia Zakaria, Veil (Bloomsbury Academic: Object Lessons), p.5.

[2] Exodus 33.20

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isaiah 40.1-11, Mark 1.1-8

Second Sunday of Advent, 6th December 2020

Eldroth and online

Those voices who cry in the wilderness, by definition often don’t get heard. But in this hard year which our whole world has been enduring, one redeeming thing is that there were moments when we paid attention to the voices crying in the wilderness of our times. 

Remember Li Wenliang, the doctor at Wuhan hospital who warned colleagues on social media in late December last year about a mysterious virus that would become the coronavirus epidemic. His voice was forcibly quietened by the authorities who had him arrested for “spreading false rumours”. He was forced to sign a police document to admit he had breached the law and had “seriously disrupted social order.” But this voice crying in the wilderness is the voice which eventually the whole world community heard, and came to understand the validity and value of his warnings, even as he sadly died of the disease. [1]

And as the epidemic struck in our society and the poorest, as is always the way at such times, began to suffer greater deprivations than usual as jobs ended and welfare assistance came slowly if at all, and often inadequate to meet their most basic needs, a voice from a most unlikely source began to cry in this social, political wilderness: the voice of England footballer Marcus Rashford, advocating for food to be provided to children nationwide who, if still at school, would be receiving free school meals. Initially derided by some in power, criticised for interfering in matters of government beyond his scope, Rashford’s cries gained such traction that the government extended free school meals for children during the summer holidays. One MP said of Rashford, “He has the sort of principles and moral values that most people hold.” [2]

Most people – ordinary people – in today’s society can feel ourselves un-listened to, under-valued, misunderstood. Perhaps the most remarkable reversal of this came with the weekly Clap for Our Carers, that round of applause which millions joined in with each Thursday evening for ten weeks, whole communities clapping, cheering, and ringing bells to thank NHS workers for their role during the pandemic, and extending that appreciation to all key workers, including healthcare workers, emergency services, armed services, delivery drivers, shop workers, teachers, waste collectors, manufacturers, postal workers, cleaners, vets and engineers. The event began with the small voice of a young mother-of-one Annemarie Plas who suggested the idea to her friends one day in March, and her cry in the wilderness for ordinary hard-working people’s everyday efforts to be recognised became the voice of the people for a precious few moments in our history. [3]

These voices cried out in hope that, being heard, they might help make the world a better place: Dr Wenliang hoping for action to be taken to protect people against a deadly virus; Marcus Rashford hoping for action to be taken to put food on the poorest children’s tables; Annemarie Plas hoping for a show of appreciation for society’s skilful, dedicated, poorly-paid and usually overlooked workers.

There’s a long tradition of voices crying in the wilderness in our scriptures. Think of Noah calling his family in to build that ark to save them, Moses calling his tribe together to begin a journey to a promised land, the voices of the prophets – still so relevant today – calling for justice for the poorest and restoration to those who have lost everything in life. The early disciples of Jesus were voices like this, speaking out in the teeth of the beast of the Roman Empire of the new reign of love released by Jesus. Jesus himself preached and spoke mostly on the fringes, to the common people, a peripheral message which spoke of God seeing their plight, hearing their cries, and answering in grace. 

And today we’re reminded of perhaps the New Testament’s best-known wilderness voice: that of John the Baptist. Like many wilderness voices his sounds odd, disquieting to us at first; only when we feel its spirit, only when we sense its hopeful vision of a world redeemed by one coming to save us, do we warm to the Baptist’s message. Because of this great tradition, scripture calls us to bend our ear to the voices crying in the wilderness in our time, and to live in response to the hopeful aspirations they inspire. 

For a season in my life I was involved with Church Action on Poverty, a UK Christian campaigning organisation, bringing concerned Christians together with people in poverty themselves to find solutions to deprivation in our country. I got to know and campaign alongside a man called Matt, from one of the most deprived council wards in Britain, chronically disabled through injuries sustained at work, who more than anyone else I’d met – MPs, welfare experts – knew what he was talking about when it came to the poverty experienced by those who physically cannot meet society’s expectations of being able to help themselves, but who need the help and understanding of others. His was a voice in the wilderness, but through Church Action on Poverty Matt one day sat face-to-face at a table at Westminster with the government welfare minister of the time discussing the finer points of welfare policy, with a view to the minister making changes. [4]

That was some time ago, although the circumstances have not improved for people like Matt and society is more divided than ever between the haves and the have-nots. When the churches of Okehampton in Devon, where I lived at the time, set up a foodbank in 2010 in response to the  closure of a local food-processing factory, it was a rare and unusual thing. Today foodbanks are everywhere and the Trussell Trust are now inviting supporters to join their campaign for what they call a Hunger Free Future: “speaking out against hunger and destitution, shaping the conversation and campaigning to drive change, for good.” These, I suggest are the voices crying in our wilderness today. [5]

May God help us to be attentive to the voices crying in the wilderness of our times: the voices of the poor and oppressed, and all those usually ignored; the voices of those whose truths are hard to face but may just contain the fruits of a better life for this earth and all who occupy it. May God give us courage to open our ears to words which challenge our comfortable ways; help us find in our hearts the willingness to follow the path of peace and goodwill. However strange that journey may seem, may we trust God to hold us in his grace as we travel with him.

 

Notes

[1] Emma Graham-Harrison, The whistleblower doctor who fell victim to China’s coronavirus. Guardian, 6 February 2020.

[2] Wikipedia: Marcus Rashford.

[3] Jayne Cherrington-Cook, Lockdown Legends: Annemarie Plas, founder of the UK Clap for Carers. Yahoo News UK, 18 May 2020.

[4] Church Action on Poverty. See also my 2016 / 2019 talk, Forgive anyway!

[5] John Davies, Takeaway food with a difference. Church Times, 10 June 2011. Trussell Trust: Hunger Free Future.