Loving God, on this holy night draw us into the mystery of your love that we may find the one for whom we have waited, Jesus Christ, your Word made flesh, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, in the splendour of eternal light, God for ever and ever. Amen.
I’d like to speak to you this evening, about traditions. And by way of introduction I’d like to start by telling you a story. And I shall call this story, ‘The priest and the cat.’ And it goes like this: Once upon a time there was a priest who was very lonely, and so he decided to get a cat, to keep him company. He was very pleased with his new cat, but it had a rather troublesome habit. Every Sunday, when the priest was presiding at the Eucharist, at the precise moment he was about to break the bread, the cat would jump up onto the altar and start meowing.
Now this was quite a high church and caused a great deal of distress. Every week it happened. So the priest had an idea. He got a little cage, and whenever the cat jumped up on the altar, he put the cat in the cage, and covered it with a blanket. And the cat fell silent. This went on for years. Every Sunday, just as the priest was about to break the bread, the cat would appear, be placed in the cage, and the blanket placed on top.
Sadly, one day, the priest died, and so the churchwardens contacted the Diocese and asked for a new priest, to preside at the Eucharist. After a couple of months, sadly the cat also died. So the churchwardens contacted the Diocese and asked for a new cat.
And that, is how traditions are made. Very often, we have a tradition and have absolutely no idea where it came from, or why we’re doing it… but everybody will get very upset if we don’t.
When I was a child, every Christmas morning my father would give me half a grapefruit for breakfast. We never had grapefruit at any other time of the year; only on Christmas morning. As a young boy, this led me to believe that grapefruit must be the most expensive fruit on earth…… as well as being the most disgusting. So it was with great sadness, when becoming a father myself, that I reluctantly decided to give up that particular family tradition.
Not to say that Family traditions aren’t important. They most certainly are. What family traditions do you have? Do you know where they came from? The key word here, is family. You don’t have to be a parent yourself to know, that when a child is born a parent’s lives are changed forever. This great miracle occurs. A new life appears, and with it, come family and friends all wanting to gather round, to see the tiny baby and share in the joy. They bring cards and gifts and shower the happy parents with affection…. Normally outstaying their welcome by several hours. The parents will name their baby, if they haven’t already, go home and start their new life together; carrying on, or maybe even starting new family traditions; knowing that from this moment on nothing will ever be the same again.
If they’re lucky, their child may not only bring light into their lives, but he or she may grow up to bring light into the lives of others. They may become a great lawyer, defending the rights of the dispossessed; a great inventor, bringing technology to new heights; a surgeon saving lives, an artist, a poet or a musician, achieving success in the creative arts. Or they may be known to no-one outside their own community, but spend each day trying to live a holy and righteous life, helping others; touching the hearts and lives of everyone they meet. Anyone, ought to consider themselves blessed, to have such a child.
Just as grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, neighbours, friends and colleagues gather around a new born infant, so do we gather on Christmas Eve, to lay our eyes upon this child. Every child is a gift from God, and therefore, an imitation and reflection of the gift of this child who is our light, our rescue, and our good news. Isaiah spoke of this child. A child who would also bring light into the world. Isaiah didn’t know his name, but we do. What Isaiah did know, was what he would be. Authority would rest on his shoulders. He would be called ‘Wonderful counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.’
This child didn’t grow up to be a great painter, or an architect or musician. He became much more. He became the very inspiration of such things; the very foundation of such things. It is for Him, that our great painters have painted, our architects designed and built great churches, Cathedrals and palaces, our martyrs died, our healers healed, our activists agitated, our preachers preached, our poets penned and our musicians composed, all on an incomprehensible scale. He is the reason church bells will ring out across all England, and indeed the world. He is the reason we gather together, and sing our familiar carols of praise. He is the source of our great traditions. He is the reason why tomorrow we will awake to enjoy the gift of giving.
We are, it is fair to say, in unusual and for many people, difficult times. Isaiah refers to difficulty as ‘darkness.’ The antidote to which of course is light. If you wish to see a battle between light and dark, walk into a room at night and turn the light on. There’s no contest who wins. Light prevails every time.
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them a light has shined.”
The birth of Jesus brought light on a global scale, not just then, but now, and for all time; and he comes to this darkened present world to remind us that darkness is not forever; light is. Only the light leads and is eternal. The wise men followed a light, and in doing so, gathered around to celebrate Christ’s birth. Tonight, let this church be stable and manger, as we take this child to our heart’s embrace. And rejoice, for a child has been born for us and a son given to us – for and to all of us – and so nothing will ever be the same again. Amen.
K.P.