That Special Child

And just like that, it’s Christmas. The cry all around me is: where did the year go?

I also felt pressured and panicked that the end of the year is here and what do I have to show for the past twelve months? So, I did something I seldom do, I wrote a newsletter to friends far away, both physically and in slow, if any communication.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had done enough to make the year passable but, as always, I could do a whole lot more. Of some things. Others I need to do whole lot less of. Like feeding on the news. Old habits die hard, and there is so much happening in our world at the moment that it is easy to get hooked into one more opinion, one more breaking story, one more reaction.

A question I have learnt over the years that needs asking is one I don’t use often enough: Does it edify my life? Some of it does, but most of today’s news puts me in a sombre mood.  The endless talking and moaning by Americans about the antics of their President and his administration, without any comprehensive or united plan of action to counter them drives me nuts. For those who decry the ANC, they must see that in comparison to the Trump administration our own government members are amateurs at corruption and incompetence.

All that aside, the story that has me sick to my stomach, and thinking of the plot for my ‘great novel’ is the endless cry of those cruelly abused as children, their determined battle for justice that can only be fully administered if the evidence contained in the Epstein files is accessible. My mind boggles at the extent of the man’s reach, the wicked strands of his spider’s web of paedophilia, bribery, global political manipulation, and garnering immense wealth in the process.

But all the horror of the news should fade into a blurred background as we focus on what was the greatest event the world has ever known – the birth in a lowly stable of Emmanuel, He who has chosen to be with us in the flesh. I have so enjoyed being back in the Anglican tradition of recognising Advent, how the readings and the prayers prepare us for the spiritual and emotional arrival of our Lord.

I have found new solace in my favourite piece of scripture, John 1 v 1,2:

 “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God,  

He was in the beginning with God.

Then to v 4: in Him was life, and the life was the light of men

And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.

What is the darkness? I think I found one answer this morning in Psalm 36: 1-4

An oracle within my heart concerning the transgression of the wicked:

There is no fear of God before his eyes.

For he flatters himself in his own eyes, when he finds out his iniquity and when he hates.

The words of his mouth are wickedness and deceit; he has ceased to be wise and to do good.

He devises wickedness on his bed; he sets himself in a way that is not good;

He does not abhor evil.

The good news is the antidote we have in Christ, and so I chose this season to focus on Him, His miraculous birth, the awe of the shepherds as they watched, open mouthed, as heaven rejoiced before their eyes, and the arrival of the Magi some time later.

I was part of a group on a retreat at the beginning of the month at iDwala, a beautiful Christian retreat centre in the mountains between Belfast and Dullstrom. We were invited to take part in a study called ‘Travelling Light’, which looked at all the journeys undertaken during this time, from the annunciation to the return of Joseph and Mary from Egypt. We all agreed that the hero of the story was Joseph, who must at some stage have feared falling asleep in case he had another visitation with another incomprehensible instruction!

As we talked about each character, laughed at some of what we imagined it was like being in that story, it came to me what a human tale it is, and that, of course, is the strength of the Christian faith. It is a human story. But it’s also a divine story, of an incredible plan which, when fully executed, would reconcile man to God, remove the consequential curse of sin brought about by that benighted apple, and give us access again to our Creator. It is the only religion where the Divine Power reaches down to man – all the others demand that man prove himself worthy.

Jesus Christ alone understands how impossible that task is for us mere mortals, and so He agreed to pay the ultimate price. But I am jumping ahead – for now, today and the next couple of days, let us welcome the Baby, born of a virgin in Bethlehem, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger.

Oh, come, let us adore Him,

Oh come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.

May this Christmas bring you the joy and peace promised by our Saviour.