Wednesday 25 December 2019

Billericay, Barry, Bethlehem and Barnet

A sermon preached at Midnight Mass: Isaiah 52: 7-10, Hebrews 1:1-12, John 1:1-14


After months of waiting, we’re getting closer , hour by hour, to the epic Christmas moment.

It might be a long way to Bethlehem; but it’s also a long way between Billericay and Barry as Gavin and Stacey return to the BBC.

The trailer has wet our appetite: Gavin opens his front door to his best mate Smithy.

Are you asking me to step in, he asks?

Seconds later, they’re singing their hearts out to Elton John’s Step into Christmas.

We last saw these characters on screen back in 2010: then, life was complicated. 

Truths were told; feelings expressed; situations left unresolved.

And now: What’s occurin’?

How would Smithy adapt to the commitment of fatherhood; given Nessa’s own very particular style of parenting?

What would unfold for Gavin and Stacy?  One moment they’re struggling with the grief of infertility; the next their world is turned upside down with an unexpected pregnancy.

Billericay, Barry and Bethlehem.

Places full of complex families: hopes, fears and loyalty; tears, laughter and struggles; tenderness, forgiveness and ways of living with each other.

Gavin and Stacey, lush; Nessa and Smithy, may be; Mary and Jospeh, absolutely.

It’s into such a world as this, that God reveals God’s very self: a word of light, and life and love, made flesh; living with us.

This Word of light and life and love was from the very beginning.

This love created all things in and for love.

This life was breathed into our flesh and blood.

This light shines. It shines in darkness. It is never overcome.

The stuff of life and love is risky; it makes us vulnerable. 

We’re blessed by human intimacy with its trust and tenderness. 

But we’re also hurt by intimacy’s betrayals and fears.

We long for relationship - yet we struggle with loneliness.

We see fragmentation - and we long to bring community.

We’re capable of acts of immense generosity, compassion and selflessness.

We take the short-cut to satisfaction by being greedy, possessive and selfish.

But God still loved us and this complex world: as the writer to the Hebrews puts it, God continued to speak by the prophets - calling us back to ways of love and mercy and compassion.

But today we remember that God speaks to us by a Word, a Son: the fullness of life and love and light became like us.

He became a human being: love conceived in a woman’s flesh, birthed from her womb, nourished at her breast. 

The one who dwelt with us became part of human history: dependent on the love and commitment of Mary and Joseph.

This is our God: taking the risk of being as a vulnerable baby.

This is our God:  born in a place of powerlessness. 

God dwelling with us: refusing to refuse to love.

This is our God: there is no sorrow or joy that I won’t be part of.

This is our God: where it darkest, there you will find me.

This is the one of whom Isaiah spoke: the one who comforted his people.

This one says: I am with you in broken bread, in the joy of wine poured out, in the intimacy of a word of blessing.

Billericay, Barry, Bethlehem and the Borough of Barnet:

Places full of complex families: hopes, fears and loyalty; tears, laughter and struggles; tenderness, forgiveness and ways of living with each other.

We step into Christmas because God steps down to earth.

Whatever life looks like today, tomorrow or in ten years time: God is with us. 

A light shining in the darkness.

A light kindling in our hearts the fire of love.

A love that will not be overcome by darkness.

May our lives bring such light and love to others. Amen.


© Julie Gittoes