‘You will hear of wars and rumours of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come.’ Matthew 24:6.
In these times, these words are as real to us today as they were then, more than two thousand years ago, when Jesus spoke them to His disciples.
Today, our journey from advent to Christmas in the liturgy takes us through the miracle of what was, of what is that remains, and on toward the hope of what is still to come.
For us, it may appear to be a long night of waiting. Yet, in the darkness of night the stars shine as little points of ancient light that raise our hearts and minds to wonder at the beauty to which our life has come – and in this darkness the earth draws an inward breath as we sleep in peaceful rest, lost in perhaps in dreams, and imaginations.
In our beloved nativity story, the shepherds in the field are like the watchmen waiting for the morning. They remain awake throughout the night prepared to ward off any terrors that may stalk their flock in the shadows – yet, like lightning lightens the darkness, a messenger breaks-through from a place beyond, wrapped in a blinding light with news of prophecy fulfilled, that is the arrival of the anointed One in a town called Bethlehem.
Rejoice! Come and see the grace of God, Jesus – the invisible made visible – the one who breaks the boundedness of our eyes to the surfaces and lines drawn in the dust, the one who came to make real our freedom; freedom from the visible and outward constraints of the world as well as from whatever inward chains we are carrying. Perhaps in all times, this is our human propensity to pursuing a heaven come by appearances; in riches, or in gain, rather than by the sacrifices of love, in the ordinary and extraordinary, or in the ending of enmity between all peoples.
For humanity’s sake, the first cause of all things became tiny, not a king by earthly wealth that he should inherit moral dessert by the alignment of material goods and inward virtue – no, Christ came to open His arms to embrace everyone – to show us the true meaning of heaven, to give the kingdom to all who chose to follow His way, not by birthright, but by adoption into a privilege – in a life that we did not choose but have been gifted to inhabit with an eternal flame of love held within our hearts, minds, bodies and souls – a home in the here and now, belonging to all.
God became man. He who is mighty wrapped Himself in darkness, entering into the world of time through the union of heaven and earth in the womb of Mary – His mother crowning Him in glory, and her yes bringing forth our renewal in the Spirit of love, and of truth.
Jesus little and vulnerable, a Holy innocent who came without the inheritance of humanity’s stain upon His soul, rekindled for us the image of God in man, as it once was – in the beginning when God walked with us in Garden of Eden before the fall.
A new day dawned upon us, when His light came into the world, arriving not by might nor by power, but by the Spirit – a Spirit of gentleness, self-control, love, patience, and peace. The mountain was brought low, and the valley filled. No longer did anyone need to ascend to the LORD, for He was with us laying in a manger, no longer were the poor and lowly outcasts, they were invited to behold His face, to see with their own eyes the face of baby Jesus; on level ground shepherds and kings knelt before Him. And like Mary, we treasure and ponder these things in our hearts.
Our God, who is everywhere, came to meet with us face to face, to be known – to dispel the darkness of death, so that we who believe are not anxious for the future, nor do we sin thinking the dust will forget our deeds, for we know the light will come again – death simply a point of turning from one world to the next, a transformation from the lights of sun, moon and stars to a place illuminated by the Spirit, the light of God, a heavenly city that waits to welcome the best part of us which remains forever, that is the abundance of love we carry within our hearts.
Prayer is a way we love others as ourselves, by prayer and petition in its simplest form, we are turning our attention toward God, bringing before Him our cares, and the cares of others in the world. God hears us and responds – He is not silent as we understand silence, for this is a call from deep to deep, a call from within the heart – from a whisper that roars an unfathomable mystery working in and through us.
By day the Lord directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life. Psalm 42:8.
All is grace. Our life now redeemed shapes the world by His Spirit in our hearts made manifest. From now until He comes again, we are the lights in a dark place, we are like the starlight travelling the ancient paths made long ago, and we as Christians have reoriented our attention towards a faith seeking understanding, and the answer given to us is the God Who is and chose to reveal Himself as Jesus Christ. Our attention is drawn through daily prayer to turn aside from the shadows bringing us into the light of His presence.
In the liturgy we embrace this journey of remembrance and presence – we recognise in our time of worship a compression of the journey of our lives, from our birth to our ending, a preparation in every moment for this pilgrimage of expectation to the moment of beholding Him with our own eyes -of staying awake like the shepherd’s, or as stewards of this time given over to us, we make ready our hearts through faith, love, and hope, with peace and humility.
The Christian call is to have open hearts, to let the Word of God split open the stone, and for the kingdom of heaven to come like a rushing waterfall into a dry place, bringing the life that comes with our hearts made of flesh. With an ever-increasing secularity, dry bones surround us, and the dead walk upon the earth without the breath of the transcendent mind within them.
Therefore, we are to keep our minds raised to him, as Saint Paul writes, ‘whatever is true whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.’ Philippians 4:4-9.
For the Lord is unchanging, His anger burns as light, a light by which whatever is hidden is revealed, wherefore an ocean of mystery is dried up and all sin and wickedness is laid bare. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, that is an entering into His presence with a humble heart, for He gives life to those who seek it – all we need to do is enter into that movement of prayer within our hearts and minds, to transform absence into presence.
Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.’ ~John 14:27.
This heavenly peace that came, was neither by sword nor by alignment with the fleeting authority of the world. The truth is, that an enemy is no more that becomes a friend. His peace and light came into a world full of trouble and strife, a peace carried in the sacred heart into every place that He was – a peace like a river, bringing righteousness like waves of the sea that spread out becoming a sphere of influence and of effect throughout the lands of space and time then and now.
O come, Thou Dayspring, from on high,
And cheer us by Thy drawing nigh;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel. [1]
Amen.
[1] From Translation of ‘Veni, Veni, Emmanuel’ by John Mason Neale, 1851.