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At this time of year, it can be difficult to know whether to say Merry Christmas or Happy New Year.
Both are clearly appropriate,
yet it can sometimes seem we are in a no-man’s land between one and the other.
Stuck in the Middle, perhaps.
But we’re not.
Today is the fifth day of Christmas.
* * * *
I began my sermon last week with the words,
‘Well, we made it’
I wonder if perhaps that is more appropriate this
week. Certainly, after excess food, TV,
travelling and visiting. And mince pies. I feel a sense of achievement. I trust you all do too.
‘Well, we made it’.
But this is of course just a resting period before the
New Year celebrations.
The commercialisation of Christmas has now reached a
point where Christmas appeared to be over before it had begun. The shops began their sales ahead of the day
itself – I was in Horsham on the last Saturday before Christmas, and the red
sale banners were in the windows of the shops already.
On Christmas Day itself, the on-line sales began. Bored of listening to Auntie Thirza? Well, just get on-line and spend the
afternoon in a personal journey of spending and consumerism.
Christmas Day.
Not even taken the time to wear all three pairs of socks
you received in the morning before you are able to go on-line and buy some
more.
From the commercial world, Christmas is over before it’s
really begun. And I think that’s a real
shame, and a missed opportunity.
According to the Church calendar, Christmas is still with
us. It is here until the 6th
January, next Sunday. The twelve nights
of Christmas. The long period of
contemplation and celebration, a period of mystery and promise, of reflection
and understanding.
In the myths and stories of Christmas, this is the period
immediately after the Christ-Child has been born, and covers the twelve days
before the Kings arrived to present their gifts. Christmas is of such importance in the
Christian calendar, and is set at a time that has been held sacred by people in
this part of the world for thousands of year, the turning of the year, the
movement from darkness to light.
From a spiritual perspective, as a waymark on the
physical and the mental journeys in our lives, this time is very important.
In recent Services, we have reflected, if that’s the
right word, we have reflected on the importance of darkness and light – of this
period of light.
Well, know we’re here.
The Light has returned. Light has
come into our lives. A precious,
life-giving offer of renewal and replenishment.
How can we rush this one? Can we
really afford to allow this opportunity to pass us by? Are we really more interested in looking for
the next thrill, rather than welcoming and savouring the genuine thrill, the
genuine and completely free opportunity that the turning of the Year, and the
centuries old myths and stories provides for us?
I hope not.
Yet although we might try to bring the lessons of
Christmas into our lives now, and even if we are explicit in our agreement that
this is a twelve-day season of spiritual development, it can still seem like a
period between two , or perhaps three, key points. Christmas, New Year’s Day, and, perhaps,
Twelfth Night. We are, or might be, however
you look at it, ‘Stuck in the Middle’.
But should we be?
We are presented, at Christmas, with the notion of a
rebirth for our lives – the coming into the world of salvation, however we
might perceive that to be. The turning
of the year, the coming of a child, these things tell us of rebirth.
As Unitarians, with a theology that has consistently
considered all humanity to be capable of bringing God’s love into the world, we
might see the birth of Jesus the human, and the stories of the birth of a
Christ-Child as reminders of the rebirth that is possible within
ourselves. The rebirth that we must each
go through if we are to take full advantage of this season, and the rebirth we
know we must take if we are to cleanse our souls of the things we know we must
shed if we are to move forward, next year, with new resolution and
determination to live our spiritual lives in the everyday.
Now, I doubt there are any here today that would see the
birth of a child as a one-day wonder.
Once a baby is born we don’t, as parents, carers or friends, turn away
as expect all to be fine now. We do not
expect each child to need some love and care on day one, and then be left to
fend for itself for the rest of its life.
And the rebirth of the child within each of us, the birth
of the Christ-Child in our lives, the return of the light, is perhaps not
something that can be celebrated and thought about for one day and then left
alone to fend for itself.
No, I believe we need to use this time after the birthday
to contemplate what it means to each if us.
To use some time to really consider how we see this opportunity and
light growing within each of us, right now.
And for each of us it will be different. We are all at different points in our life
stories. We are, all of us, likely to
reflect on different elements of our lives that might benefit from some
cleansing and rebirth at this time.
In our first reading, the poem by Siegfried Sassoon, we
are reminded of the opportunities this time of year can bring us for
reflection.
I shall read it again, since it can often be quite hard
to remember in detail the readings.
December stillness, teach me through your trees
That loom along the west, one with the land,
The veiled evangel of your mysteries.
While nightfall, sad and spacious, on the
down
Deepens, and dusk imbues me, where I stand,
With grave diminishings of green and brown,
Speak, roofless Nature, your instinctive
words;
And let me learn your secret from the sky,
Following a flock of steadfast-journeying
birds
In lone remote migration beating by.
December stillness, crossed by twilight roads,
Teach me to travel far and bear my loads.
As I
mentioned before, we did use this poem at our poetry and meditation gathering
earlier this month. And that, perhaps,
is why the poem has stuck with me for so long, providing a base on which to
build my own spiritual plans for this time.
Sassoon
sees December as the month for reflection.
He sees, I believe, the apparent death of nature – the grave
diminishings of green and brown – when coupled with the overwhelming
awesomeness of Nature – as a God-given opportunity to reflect on our purpose
and our connections to this world. This
stillness of which Sassoon writes is also, I suggest, the stillness that hangs
in the time after Christmas and Yule – this time we are currently in.
We each
of us have the opportunity to use the stillness of December, the simplicity of
the natural world at this time, as an opportunity to reflect personally on how
we see the coming time, the coming year perhaps, developing.
Sassoon
talks of following a flock of stead-fast journeying birds. This imagery strikes me as a recognition that
life continues. We are forever following
life and the natural cycle; we cannot control the passage of time.
But we
can control the impact we have on the world.
How we might be able to help bring love and wholeness to our family, our
friends, our community and the world more broadly.
We are
but a tiny part of this world, yet we are connected to it. A tiny part yet each of us is an active part
of it. We can learn from this world, and
we can contribute to it too.
The stillness
of December co-incides so deliciously with the possibility for stillness in the
post-Christmas time.
So, it’s
simple really. We’ll just take a little
time over these few days, put the world to rights, brace ourselves for the
lives of pure love and righteousness we’re about to lead, and all will be well.
OK. I guess that’s asking a little too much.
We can’t
make ourselves perfect. We cannot
predict how this world will turn out. We
really don’t know what lies around the next corner.
But this
doesn’t matter.
As
Sassoon says, teach me to travel far, and bear my loads.
We may
not know how and where we are travelling to, but we can prepare for the
journey.
And
let’s not forget that these twelve days, the days in which the Kings are said to
have travelled to the stable in Bethlehem, these are days where we are thinking
about the journeys, about destinations, but also uncertainty.
Elizabeth
Tarbox, in our second reading, in thinking around the way she planned to make
her resolutions for New Year concluded with the following:
This year I’m not making any
resolutions, or asking God to resolve things for me. This year, as I take my self-inventory, I’m
aiming for the continued willingness to keep the doors of my feelings open, to
participate in life as well as to observe it, to contribute more to the
solutions and less to the problems, and to wish everyone, with all my heart, a
happy and healthy new year.
This has a greater grounding in reality for me. No resolutions. Because we simply do not know for certain
what specifics lie ahead. However, the
importance is in this notion of self-inventory.
This period of internal reflection and assessment.
Christmas, the return of the light, the Sun, has given us
the reminder we need that we are able to renew and refresh ourselves. We too can be reborn, we too can bring the
innocence and potential of a new-born child to the world.
But we need time to prepare ourselves from this. The rush of Christmas preparations and of the
day itself can mean that our good intentions for personal renewal get left
behind.
However, we are fortunate that the December stillness,
and this time apparently between events, gives us that chance to still
ourselves and to prepare for the coming year.
You may know there are certain things you look to do, to
change, to continue. You may
alternatively see this time as a necessary recharge and redirection. Like Elizabeth Tarbox, you might avoid the specifics
and look instead to prepare to participate in life by contributing to the
solutions, not the problems.
I said earlier that I had made a couple of changes to our
usual Order of Service today. The reason
for that was to bring an opportunity, I hope, for some personal reflection and
contemplation in the December stillness.
We have heard from Sassoon and Tarbox, and we have
probably all sat thinking about the way we might begin to prepare for the
future. To cleanse our inner hearts and
to prepare for the coming year.
I would like us now to come together in silence and
stillness. I suggest you settle into
your chairs, relaxing, and thinking on your personal hopes and needs for the
coming year.
None of us can truly know what lies ahead, but each of us
has the opportunity now to spend some time preparing. This may be the first chance you’ve had. It may be a part of a continuing piece.
But this is your time,
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