Christmas Eve - Dec 24, 2011

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY --- Br. Andrew Colquhoun, OHC
Christmas, Year B - Saturday, December 24, 2011

Isaiah 9:2-7
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-14(15-20)

The creche 2011 in the Visitors Gallery in our Saint Augustine Church

Picture credit: George

I love this night.  I love the mystery and wonder.

This is not a night for scholarly insights about the theology of the Incarnation.  It’s not a night for arguing about doctrine.  It’s not a night for cynicism or carping about the possibility or impossibility of miraculous birth.

It’s a night of wonder and of things beyond understanding.

It’s a night that calls us to put our doubts and resentments aside for a while and let the wonder and the message of peace take over.   This is the holiest and most mysterious of nights.  This night we forget everything but the miracle of the Baby and the wonder of the Holy Family and the Shepherds.  It’s a night to listen for angels and to put aside for a little while all the things that bring us down.

The minister of the Canongate Kirk in Edinburgh read a poem to us every year on Christmas.  I read it every Christmas.  Perhaps you know it?  John Betjeman wrote it… 

The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.

The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
'The church looks nice' on Christmas Day.

….

And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children's hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say 'Come!'
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.

And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me?

And is it true?  For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

(you can find the whole poem here).

This has been a hard year for so many people – too many wars, too much economic hardship, so many disasters – earthquakes, floods – people still out of work – our government striking poses and not seeming to do much else.

We need a break.  This is a good night to focus on the miracle and the hope that Christ brings – Peace on earth – goodwill for God is pleased with us.  It’s good to fall into the softness of the Mother’s breast and be nourished; to be like children for a moment – children full of trust and love and spontaneous laughter.

But let me tell you one little story to put in your minds and hearts… a young mother who is a friend of mine wrote to say her little boy was Jesus in the manger scene at their lessons and carols.  She said “He was adorable but he wouldn’t stay in the manger!”

Brothers and sisters, neither will this One!

Happy Christmas!