Christmas - Homily 1

Homily 1 – 2005

When angels are brought on stage in the Gospels, the evangelists are tipping us off about something beyond our human capacity to know: we are stepping into the realm of mystery.  In tonight’s Gospel, an angel tells shepherds that a child over in the town – newly-born – is saviour, Christ, Lord.  An angel saying something in a gospel is an invitation to “stop the video”, to pause, and in silence to contemplate the mystery, to enter into the truth of it: let go, for the moment, of the storyline; let go of the tinsel; let go all the memories, nostalgic or otherwise, and stand before reality.

The claim is that Jesus is saviour, leader, lord – of the world, of our world; where good things happen, where unspeakably destructive things happen.  Is Jesus relevant to this world, essentially relevant, the bearer of the only approach that can save it?

In the story, the other choir of angels that took over from the first lone one proclaimed peace, though a peace conditional on keeping God clearly in the picture: Glory to God ... and peace to all who enjoy his favour.  Currently, the attainment of peace is painfully relevant to our world.

The reality we silently stand before is this: Jesus was born, he was killed, he was raised from death by the Father, and he is in the world today.  The burning question remains: Where do we find him today? and how do we recognise him?

This brings us back again to the storyline: The angel was prepared to give the shepherds a sign to indicate how Jesus - saviour, Christ, lord - could be recognised.  The angel said: He will look like any other newborn baby, wrapped in cloth.  He won’t be noticeably different, or, if he is, the difference will be the unexpected: he won’t be at home; he’ll be in an animal’s feed-trough in someone else’s home.

We need to learn to discern his voice.  Who are the prophets he speaks through today? It may sometimes be pretty hard to be certain it is his voice. But if he is saviour, Christ, lord, it is important that we go and look, and having gone and looked, that we listen and take note.  If only he were more obvious!

But we can learn to discern his voice amid the other voices that assail us.  We can get familiar with his voice.  Parents can easily detect the sound of their child’s voice.  People in love can pick each other out, no matter how crowded the room.  Older couples know how the other is feeling without their need to say a word.  To really know another takes time.  It takes love.  It is the way we come to recognise Christ – time spent together in love.  It’s what we call prayer.  Once known, Christ’s presence, his truth, his touch can be recognised easily enough.  He will be speaking the truth, and that truth will ‘sit right’ in our truest depths.  He might even be crying sometimes.  And sometimes he might simply be spreading incredible joy just by a smile.

As the shepherds said: Let’s go and see!  On that note, I wish you: Happy Christmas!