Have you ever been a stranger at Christmas? Perhaps experiencing your first Christmas away from home, newly bereaved or divorced? Perhaps a first Christmas without a beloved family member? Have you ever been lonely at Christmas? 

A number of years ago I spent a sabbatical year studying theology in Edmonton. I was on a very limited budget, and I was seriously homesick. As Christmas approached, I missed my family very much, and quite honestly, I was lonelier than I had ever been before or since. I couldn’t afford to go home to England for Christmas, and I felt totally disconnected from the “Christmas Spirit”. 

A woman from church whom I didn’t know well invited me to her home for Christmas Eve and I accepted because I literally had nowhere else to be. And this is how I was welcomed into a Ukrainian Christmas Eve feast with a mother and two adult daughters: four women coming together in a Christmas celebration that was an entirely new experience for me. It didn’t take away my homesickness or assuage my loneliness, but the generosity of their welcome, and the beautiful meal with its many meaningful courses was greatly appreciated and I have often thought, and since come to value, what it felt like to be a welcomed stranger. I barely knew the woman who issued the invitation: we weren’t friends, but we shared one Christmas and it was a Christmas that included ritual and tradition, hospitality, and the opportunity for me to receive Christ into my life in a new way. It opened my heart to offering hospitality at Christmas in whatever circumstances I might find myself. 

When our son was in grade one, he expressed disappointment about our Christmas meal, a disappointment that was hard to understand. He told us that his teacher had shown the class a picture by the New Yorker artist, Norman Rockwell, depicting a family gathered around the table with a huge turkey resplendent in the centre. Our turkey had already been carved, and it didn’t match our son’s expectations! 

Christmas can be like that: we have ideas about what it should be like: the family gathered, the festive lights and decorations, the gifts around the tree and the bountiful feast, the family gathered and everyone getting along. But it is not like that for everyone and we will all have Christmases that are quieter and simpler, for all kinds of reasons. It’s at these times that we recall the words of Isaiah which we have just heard: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light!”  

For tonight we celebrate the birth of Jesus, the Messiah that was promised down through the ages, by the ancient prophets. He was the light that came into the world, the light that was long awaited. God chose to take on human form, to live among us as a human being. As they waited, for generations, the people were likely expecting somebody strong and powerful, a great King and ruler who would restore their fortunes. The Messiah when he came was not at all what they were expecting. He came as a vulnerable baby, born to a Palestinian, teenage, unmarried mother, into a family who were soon to become refugees. He was born into poverty, into a turbulent political reality, and he was recognised as the Messiah only by a few. 

Where is Jesus becoming incarnate in our present time? As we look at refugees on the news fleeing dangerous homelands, consider the plight of all those who have become homeless through flood and fire, and consider the injustices imposed upon indigenous people, we realize that many in our own time walk in darkness. Driving down Pandora Avenue on a cold, rainy night this week, I witnessed the misery and poverty of the many, still living in tents at the side of the road, and I am reminded that the grace of God has appeared to bring salvation to all. If Jesus was born today, it would most likely be in one of these contexts. 

The point is that Jesus came into the world because there was darkness, and he comes into the dark places in our lives too. He came because we needed a God with skin on, because we needed him in human form, because we still need the light that only he can bring.  

 In the words of Madeleine L’Engle (The First Coming, Madeleine L’Engle):

He did not wait till the world was ready, 

Till men and nations were at peace. 

He came when the heavens were unsteady, 

And prisoners cried out for release. 

 

He did not wait for the perfect time. 

He came when the need was deep and great. 

He dined with sinners in all their grime, 

Turned water into wine. He did not wait 

 

Till hearts were pure. In joy he came 

To a tarnished world of sin and doubt. 

To a world like ours, of anguished shame 

He came, and his Light would not go out. 

 

He came to a world which did not mesh, 

To heal its tangles, shield its scorn. 

In the mystery of the Word made Flesh 

The maker of the stars was born. 

 

We cannot wait till the world is sane 

To raise our songs with joyful voice, 

For to share our grief, to touch our pain, 

He came with Love: rejoice, rejoice. 

Ministries
Faith in Formation