Love came down…

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It’s been a busy year (my excuse for a lack of blogging here) but I was nudged by an Offspring to post what I said on Christmas Day – caught momentarily between Tier 3 and 4 in the strangest of years. I’m never sure Offspring listen (I’m sure it’s boring hearing your mother hold forth) so since I was asked…

What a strange and difficult Christmas this has turned out to be. What a strange and difficult year in fact. Those of us here today gather, some with empty seats around the table as friends and family are stranded elsewhere for now, and some missing those who are absent more permanently. In this community this year we have lost three greatly loved members and others of us will always find Christmas difficult because of other losses.

But it’s not just people that we lost this year, though of course those are the most significant losses. Each of us has experienced other kinds of loss. Loss of our own personal freedom, the ability to go to the shops when we want, to meet the people we want to meet, to go to the theatre and even, for a significant time, the loss of corporate worship in our buildings. Loss of plans we had for holidays, or family celebrations, the postponement of weddings or christenings

Most of all, perhaps, we have lost control. Control of our own lives, even of the future of humanity as we see how fragile our place on earth is as a race, how real our vulnerability, how easily a tiny virus can disrupt life and bring it (literally sometimes) to a halt.

But why the fuss over Christmas? It’s one day, and one (rather good) roast dinner followed by a brisk walk with the dog or a snooze in front of the TV. What was the uproar about?

The last minute cancelling of our plans for Christmas was more than frustration that my turkey is now too big, or non-existent. More than the worry that the presents are in the wrong house and it’s too late to post them. It’s because this year, all year, love has had to be shown remotely. No hugs for grandparents or cuddles with newborn babies; no sharing a pint with friends or walking arm in arm round a Christmas market. Love this year has had to be at a distance, over Zoom or facetime, through Perspex barriers at care homes, behind a mask with no touching. Love in 2021 was there, but love was expressed remotely. And Christmas had offered us a chance to be in the same room with those we love, to give presents and share food. In a year we have been deprived of ways to show love, we had hoped Christmas would help us show it in action as well as words.

Which is precisely what Christmas is.

Christmas is a expression of God’s love that is no longer shown remotely. No longer love at a distance, with God safely tucked away behind an eternal barrier to keep God clean, untouched by life, uncontaminated by humanity.

Christmas is about Jesus saying I’ll risk it. I’ll come and be with you in the dirt, mess and danger of life, even life in a pandemic. It’s about God coming among us as never before, to live alongside us and experience human life from the inside, God robed in human flesh.

It’s about God showing God’s love not just in words but in action too. Not just through the mouths of the prophets and preachers but definitively, decisively, dangerously, coming in person, taking the initiative, demonstrating Love through action.

And he comes, God in human form, as a squirming, squealing, scrap needing the kiss of a human mother, the embrace of a human father understanding that most basic of needs that we have lacked all year – a hug, a touch, love in action. 

God becomes needy, vulnerable, powerless, human like me, or you. And God invites God’s self to Christmas, even Christmas in a pandemic and in the cry of a human baby whispers ‘I’d like to come and spend Christmas with you. I’d like to come and spend forever with you.’

This is love come down at Christmas.

(We weren’t permitted to sing in church this year so this was my cue to play the little sung carol of this name. One advantage of being in charge of the playlist is I get to choose the music)

Photo credit:  Omar Lopez on Unsplash