Christmas Day
Wonderful to see you all again on Christmas morning at the Auggie. You are here because you parents brought you here as small children, and in all probability, they in their turn were here because their parents brought them here. That is what we call tradition, this living web of human relationships into which we were all born. Unfortunately, that web of human relationships contains some very dark corners, some dark strands indeed. Unless we have a very effective light to lead us, we can get trapped by some of those dark strands. But into that web too came the baby whom John calls the Light of the World: 'He is a light shining in the darkness, a light no darkness can overpower.' Because of this light, which first shone on this day, we are led safely through this sometimes dangerous but nonetheless wonderful web.
Because an infant child is central to our feast, all children occupy centre stage today. We presume Santa has visited with wondrous effect, casting his magical spell over all. Because, to the child, Christmas is magic. Paradoxically, the smaller the child, the more active the imagination. And Christmas provides so much material to feed the infant imagination: darkness, twinkling lights, snow-filled scenes, romanticised cribs, and stories of a portly, jolly figure whose generosity or mobility knows no bounds. No wonder the prophet Isaiah visualizes an era of blissful peace being ushered in by a little child: "And the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them."
This is all grist to the many mill of the infant imagination. Christmas provides children with memories that will sustain them for a lifetime. In my own case, and I'm sure most of you will identify with this blessed reality, the most vivid childhood memories I have revolve around Christmas time. Now all my Christmas memories weren't all that fantastic. Once or twice, Santy proved a huge disappointment. In fact he got things so badly wrong one Christmas that the only possible explanation lay in the probability that he got my letter mixed up with my younger sister's. We should be conscious of this reality: Christmas provides children with precious memories that will sustain them for a lifetime. Adults create Christmas for them. It is an awesome responsibility.
Obviously, Christmas is not the preserve of children only. The whole family is drawn into the preparations. It is a fabulous festival in that many of you make a special effort each year to make it to your own 'Bethlehem' for the Christmas festival. But the festival makes high demands, especially on those who provide and prepare the fare. Christmas as we celebrate it today was the creation of our middle class Victorians ancestors. Of course the Victorians had servants in abundance, so the preparation of the Christmas dinner was no big deal. The Christmas dinner remains as part of their legacy. The servants, however, have gone! So the greater part of the burden tends to fall on two shoulders! Christmas tends to idealise the nuclear family: Mammy, Daddy and the 2.4 children, with the well-fed purring cat thrown in for good measure! However, there are many, many people in Ireland today who have been failed by the nuclear family. Others still find themselves in second relationships of varying degrees of 'irregularity'. At the more extreme end of the scale are those without a roof over their heads. Because, within the Christian tradition, Christmas is seen as centred on the nuclear family, all of those just mentioned will feel excluded to one extent or another from the feast. It is rather ironic that the homeless should feel excluded from the birthday celebrations of one who was himself born homeless!
Christmas is such a busy time; so many people to be catered for, so many chores to be done. Yet it can be such a marvellous time, such a happy time. People are at their most generous, at their most humane. And I don't mean that materially. Generosity of spirit is in the air around Christmas. This is entirely appropriate since the event we are commemorating merits such a response: the generosity of God in sending his Son as a vulnerable baby, born to a couple of homeless paupers who were bonded together in a seemingly 'irregular union'. That baby would grow up to show us how to live, how to love, and how to die. No one like him ever appeared before, or since. Through his great pain, he has brought us great joy. Our response must be, on this day of all day, to rejoice and be glad. Have a lovely Christmas.