2016 in pictures
Saccharine-free Christmas
I’m not for one moment advocating no sweet treats over Christmas (I know for many people, these are a highlight of this time of year), but I do long for a saccharine-free Christmas. So often in our society, we paint this time of year with a falsely sentimental hue which veers into self-indulgence, exaggeration and unreality… and then get upset when reality hits and it does not conform to this picture. I have a particular loathing for the line in ‘Away In A Manger’ which declares ‘But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes‘, because it is blatantly untrue: if Jesus took on human flesh and came as a baby, He most definitely did cry, because all babies do! To suggest otherwise is to place unreal burdens on all parents coping with the cries of their babies and to implant the wrong notion in our heads that in the Incarnation, Jesus did not really know what it is to be human. He was most certainly a ‘special baby’, but I doubt that stopped Him crying (or being sick or filling a nappy…)
As we prepare in our family for the arrival of a baby, I am struck once again by how reality differs so much from this saccharine, sentimental idea of the Christmas story. Giving birth is a messy, painful, laborious and undignified job. Yes, we rejoice over the birth of a child, but giving birth in a stable in an over-crowded city with no clean sheets and no previous experience of childbirth must have been terrifying for Mary and Joseph. Quite how we have moved from this to the notion of a ‘perfect Christmas’, with family members sitting happily around a table stuffed full of food and being wittily amusing for hours on end, baffles me!
The problem with our ideas of a ‘perfect Christmas’ is that it lays unnecessary burdens on our shoulders. Jesus had harsh words for the Pharisees who ‘tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them.‘ (Matt 23:4) Don’t let anyone, least of all yourself, put heavy, cumbersome loads on your shoulder’s about the perfect Christmas. It really doesn’t matter if the turkey is dry or the sprouts soggy or the Christmas pud more like leather than the moist, succulent pictures you see in your cookery book. Families will have arguments on Christmas Day like any other day: this is not the end of the world. We can still love, forgive, move on and cope with imperfection. It’s easier to do so if we accept reality as it is instead of trying to stuff it full of unreal expectations, like Clark Griswald in ‘National Lampoon Christmas Vacation.’
The truth of the Incarnation is that God became ‘one of us’: ‘the same blood, the same flesh – one of us/ the same skin, the same breath – one of us/ The same dust and dirt, the same trials and hurts – one of us.’ (‘The Name of Emmanuel’, Matt Redman) If we grasp hold of this truth, we will have a blessed Christmas, for it’s all about God with us – one of us – and not about anything else we imagine it to be. As long as God is with us, we will be fine.
The Glory of Christmas
We talk a lot about the glory of God at Christmas: angels singing ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests’ (Luke 2:14), a phrase echoed in many of the carols we sing. ‘Glory’ can be a hard term to define, but is generally used to mean the splendour, beauty and majesty associated with God as well as referring to the honour or renown due to God because of His character and achievements. In the Christmas narratives, this is usually associated with bright lights that dazzle. Since God is light (1 Jn 1:5), that association makes a lot of sense.
Matt Redman has written a song based on the carol ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ (which talks of the dark streets of Bethlehem being illuminated by ‘the everlasting light‘) which has the chorus ‘the glory of Christmas is the glory of Christ/ And the story of Christmas is the story of His love.’ (‘O Little Town (The Glory of Christmas)’, Matt Redman). As we draw close to Christmas, we do well to remember that its glory is not in the lights we see on Christmas trees or in shops and that the joy we feel is not due to the food or drink we consume or the presents we open. The glory of Christmas is the glory of Christ: Christ shining His light into the darkness, lighting up the gloom, despair and hopelessness of the world and infusing it with hope, joy and peace. The story of Christmas is not about office parties, Father Christmas or family get-togethers; it is about God’s love entering our world in tangible form and reminding us that we are not alone. That glory can be ours this weekend and throughout every day of our lives.
Saying goodbyes
It’s never easy to say farewell to a church member, especially one who has been part of our church family for many years. But Ralph Fletcher is moving to the East coast shortly, and so this was his final Sunday service with us. We were pleased to give him gifts and to pray with him, expressing our appreciation and thanks for his faithful ministry over many years and asking God’s blessing on him as he moves out of our area.
Ralph has been a member of our church for over twenty years and has been part of the leadership team for many years. His Bible teaching and faithfulness in prayer have been examples to us and we will miss him greatly, though we were relieved to hear he would welcome visitors if we are ever in the Bridlington area!
Making star decorations
Following a star… and finding the ordinary
Stars feature quite frequently in carol services: wise men following ‘yonder star‘; the ‘natal star‘ in ‘Angels From The Realms of Glory’; the fact that Jesus was born on a ‘starry night’ and so on. But whilst the star of Bethlehem is clearly important in guiding the magi to Jesus and in proclaiming the birth of a king, the title ‘bright morning star‘ is actually given to Jesus Himself. (Rev 22:16)
2 Pet 1:19 tells us that we have a prophetic message, a light shining in the darkness. The term ‘bright morning star’ often refers to the last star which shines before dawn and speaks of the end of darkness and the coming of light. Jesus is the light of the world (see Jn 8:12, Jn 1:4) whose coming brings hope to all.
This coming, celebrated at Christmas and prophesied in Numbers 24:17, explains why the wise men followed ‘his’ star and came to worship a king. They expected the king to be born in a palace, an obvious place, but Jesus, though King of the Jews, was born in Bethlehem. They expected the majesty and pageantry of royalty, but found instead a peasant family and an ordinary baby.
Scripture does not tell us if the wise men were disappointed or surprised to find the King of the Jews in such an ordinary, everyday place. Quite often, that is our reaction to God, expecting the razzmatazz of miracles and astounding power rather than the humility of the incarnation: God wrapped in human flesh. The hope that God brings is more than a pipe dream; it is the certainty that God is now with us and is our God. We may fail to see God, however, because He so frequently uses the ordinary and the everyday. Let’s be sure to keep our eyes on the ‘bright morning star’ as we journey on in faith.





























