I thought I'd scheduled this to share on Christmas Day, but I clearly didn't. I'm going to hit publish now, for recordings sake, but likely the only ones who will see it are the ones who have subscribed to my blog. Apologies if you thought for a second that you were going mad, I can assure you you're not, but even if you were, you'd be in good company.
In those days Boris Augustus issued a decree that a booster should be given to the entire UK population. And so everyone who wanted to went to receive theirs by the end of 2021.
Mary and Joseph weren't quite sure what to do. The science seemed to say that it was good to get the vaccine whilst pregnant, but it still felt a bit risky. And for Joseph, his carpentry work meant that he saw a lot of people in and out of his workshop, and he just couldn't force them to wear masks in the way those big stores could, so it was probably a good idea for him to get it at least. By the time they'd finished those deliberations, there were no appointments left for them to book, but they decided for them that it was better to go and get vaccinated, so they arrived in Bethlehem and joined a very long walk-in clinic queue.
I can see you wondering quite how far I'm going to take this retelling of the story. Whether the angels are going to ask the shepherds whether they or anyone in their household has had a new cough, a high temperature, or a loss of taste and smell, or whether the kings posted their gifts of masks, hand-sanitiser and tests and joined a free 40 minute zoom call to see how the tiny baby is, whether the Wonderful Counsellor is sleeping through the night, or whether their Mighty God is feeding well, if the Everlasting Father has brought his mother pain, or whether Prince of Peace is screaming his head off.
I'm done. I promise.
We've spent the last year looking for covid signs and signals. Signs that we might be unwell, signals from authorities that tell us what it is safe to do, signs that show now ignored one way systems, signals that control our entry into supermarkets. We have lived in a world where sometimes it's felt so hard to know what to do that we cry out 'I wish there was a really clear sign' or 'I wish God would just make it really obvious what I should do'.
I think there's a chance that the shepherds in the fields might warn us 'be careful what you wish for'. Their sign didn't leave much room for confusion, ambiguity or interpretation.
They were living in the fields, on the boring night shift away from the hustle and bustle and fun of the streets of Bethlehem. Sat on the hills, looking out over the neighbouring villages, caring for their sheep at night, as normal, as Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday and Friday. And then all of a sudden, there was a new normal.
The glory of the Lord shone around. The glory of the Lord, the presence of God Almighty met with those sat on the hills. Understandably, they were utterly terrified. A quick sidebar: I am never quite convinced that angel instructions to 'not be afraid' ever work, but I do always think that it's nice that they try, even if it does feel a bit futile. So, calm down Shepherds, and you'll hear what the angel has to say.
And what does the angel have to say? 'today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you - he is the messiah, the helper of all people, the Lord'. The sign of the angel, and their message is clear enough, exciting enough that they leave their sheep, all they have and possessions on a dark night where wolves and ambitious foxes roam, and they go and find the good news of great joy.
The people around when Jesus was born were hoping for a sign of the coming of God. Desperate for something that would point them towards God. For many years they had been promised a saviour, a ruler, a warrior. Someone to save them from the powers of their time, someone to set the captives free, to make the lame leap. They were expectant, they were filled with hope. But they were also getting on with their day to day lives, because a watched pot never boils.
And then, to a woman, the hope of the world was given. She created, she grew, she fed the saviour of humanity, in her pregnant belly. She held God in her very being, and birthed God for us to hold in our arms and in our hearts. She was the first to be given a sign of the coming of God and the saving of the world, and then her husband-to-be next. After that? Not the rulers and the people in charge, or the people who could organise or get the message out quickly. The shepherds, on the hills, out in the sticks.
Today, Christmas day, we are met with not just a sign, but the real deal. Today, in the town of David, a saviour has been born to us; he is the Messiah, the Lord. The glory of the Lord shines around, the presence of God is with us, as that tiny newborn lies on a bed of straw.
Isaiah says that people who have walked in darkness, and lived in a land of deep darkness, on them great light has shined. Deep darkness seems to sum up the pandemic times we've had, where many of us have lost loved ones, many of us have had significant life changes, and many of us are carrying two years of pandemic fatigue. We've tried to focus on thankfulness, we've focused on hope – we've clung on to anything that has helped to light our path, on anything that has given us the energy to take the next step. This morning we say again that thrill of hope that causes the weary world to rejoice has not just been found in a vial of vaccine, it has been found in a tiny baby, lying in a manger.
We have come today, not to celebrate the vaccine, not to celebrate human knowledge, human innovation, or human success. But to celebrate God who when we could not go ourselves, came to us, and in doing so, dwells with us, lives with us and saves us. We come to worship our new born King this morning with all we are and we come with all we have rejoicing in who God is. We come, bringing our tears, our loneliness, our brokenness, and our unfaithfulness, and we bring it to a tiny baby, and we are met with great peace, and we celebrate great joy.
For a child has been born to us, a son given to us, authority rests upon his shoulders and he is named Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father and Prince of Peace. Jesus Christ, baby Jesus, is the glory that shines in the darkness, in the light that shines in the darkness, and nothing will never be able to put that out.
May you know the light of Christ in your lives today, and forever. Merry Christmas.
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