Christmas

As I’ll be busy for next few days, I’m posting my Christmas homily now:

There’s a story told about a little boy who wanted to meet God.

He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with some packets of Smarties and some cans of Coke and started his journey. When he’d gone half a mile or so, he met an old woman. She was sitting in the park just staring at some pigeons. The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from one of his cans of Coke when he noticed the old lady looked hungry, so he offered her some Smarties. She gratefully accepted and smiled at him. Her smile lit up her whole face.

It was so lovely, the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered her a drink of Coke. Once again she smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word. As it grew dark, the boy realised how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he’d gone more than a few steps, he turned round, ran back to the old woman and gave her a hug. She gave him her biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, “What did you do today that made you so happy?” He replied, “I had lunch with God.” And before his mother could respond, he added, “You know what? She’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen!”

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and he asked, “Mother, what did you do today that made you so happy?” She replied, “I ate Smarties in the park with God.” And before her son could respond, she added, “You know, he’s much younger than I expected.”

It does seem strange to think of God as a little boy, or indeed, as an old woman! It seems pretty strange to think of God as a baby. Yet that’s what Christmas is all about. About God being born. About God in a baby. Yet what use could a baby God ever be? Surely God is grand and majestic and all-powerful? Surely God can do anything, work any miracle, determine whether we live or die? Surely the whole point of God is, he could zap the entire world with a click of his fingers if he so wished?

All those things are true of God, but it seems he has laid that kind of power to one side, and uses a different sort of power with us. He uses the sort of power any of us can discover for ourselves. It’s a power which can only be found through weakness and vulnerability, and it’s the sort of power Jesus showed throughout his life.

When that tiny baby was born at Bethlehem all those years ago, they came from far and wide to see him. All types and conditions of people. The poor people—the uneducated shepherds. The rich people—the educated wise men, the three kings. So already in that tiny baby, too small to do anything, even to smile, there was the power to attract people to him. And we see the same thing over and over again today. When a new baby is born, the whole family turns up to see him or her. There’s great rejoicing at a new birth.

And babies have other powers too. They have the power to produce in their parents and grandparents and other close relatives and friends, enormous feelings of fierce, protective love. Sadly, in some families those feelings quickly become crushed, but when things are right and develop as they should develop, those feelings of love and protection grow and deepen with the passing years.

With Jesus’ mother Mary, they deepened so much that when her son was executed, crucified, she had the strength to stand there at the foot of the cross while her son was dying on it. Because the bonds between them were so deep she just had to be with him at that terrible, agonising time.

This theme of power through vulnerability and weakness continued throughout Jesus’ life. We’re told in the gospels he also had a different sort of power, the power to perform miracles, especially miracles of healing, but his greatest power was seen when he was quite helpless. As he moved towards the end of his life, the great crowds he had attracted through his teaching and preaching, began to desert him. They could see which way the wind was blowing. They knew he was heading for disaster. When he was arrested they all fled, even his closest friends. So he was left isolated and alone, facing terrible punishment and certain death. But face it he did, and throughout that appalling experience, when he was quite helpless and in horrifying agony, when he thought even God had deserted him, from somewhere he found the strength to maintain his love for all people, even for those who were deliberately hurting him.

That’s real power. To be able to rise above pain and deliberately inflicted hurt, and to maintain love in the face of it. And the result of that strength which he showed in his weakness, was a fantastic resurrection, where he turned out to be stronger even than death. And once he’d reached that point, that point of new and amazing and vibrant life, nothing else could touch him.

The life Jesus lived was a human life. God born within a baby at Christmas. God living within a human being throughout his life. Jesus showed us how God living within a human life could reach new and different heights of power, new and different depths of strength. But as the little boy and the old lady in the park discovered, God lives within every human life.

We all have the opportunity to discover his power and his strength within our own lives, if only we can bear to be vulnerable, if only we can allow ourselves some weakness. If I pull up the drawbridge and fortify the outer walls and refuse to lower my defences, and tell everyone I’m quite all right, even when I’m not, when actually I’m hurting a lot, then I prevent God from reaching me.

God’s great gift at Christmas was the gift of himself. The gift of himself in that tiny baby Jesus, but more than that. The gift of himself to every human being, that through our human weakness we too should come to know his power and his strength.