Saturday, December 26, 2009

Archbishop of York's Christmas Day Sermon 2009

My daughter returned two days before Christmas from a semester abroad at St. John University, York, England. ed.

Friday 25 December 2009

Via TitusOneNine:

Today at York Minster, the Archbishop delivered his Christmas Day Sermon. The text of the sermon is detailed below:

CHRIST WAITING TO FIND ROOM

PRAYER: Let us pray.
'O God, who said, "let light shine out of darkness", shine in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of your glory in the face of Jesus Christ our Lord'. Amen
"She gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn (Luke 2:7).

In the birth and birthplace of Jesus there is something which corresponds beautifully with his personal biography as well as the fortunes of his Gospel.
Two thousand years on, he still comes waiting to find room. And there is scant room for him.

The reason why Jesus can't find room for his Gospel – which he embodied in his person at his first coming – is closely analogous to that which he encountered in his birth – namely that people's hearts are preoccupied. They are filled to the brim with their own agendas already. And we, who are his followers, so poorly represent the worth and largeness of Christ and his Gospel. Preoccupied with the presenting and controverted issues of the day, we lack the inspiration he offers, and we end up giving him the stable, when we should be giving him the inn. Instead of putting him at the centre of our living, thinking and planning, we leave him at the margins.

A story is told by a Jewish Rabbi of a town which was given three days' warning of the arrival of a hurricane. A Roman Catholic priest called all the Catholics together and impressed on them the need to go to confession. An Anglican vicar gathered his congregation and told them to ask forgiveness from those they had wronged, and to make amends.

The Rabbi met the Jewish community in the synagogue and told them, "You have three days in which to learn how to live under water".

The Roman Catholic and the Anglican, faced with such a life-threatening situation, got ready to survive life after death – in another world. But the Jews were bold enough to think of surviving death in this world – what they were yearning for was not life after death, but life after life, after life.
The heart of the Gospel is forgiveness for past sins, new life in the present, given abundantly by Jesus Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit, and hope for the future. God made us to live lives to the full with him in this life, and to enjoy his presence for ever. But sadly there is no room for God in the inn of our world and our lives – only an outhouse.

Our first reading from Isaiah 9:2-7, told us how life is meant to be lived as a result of the birth of King Jesus - establishing a Kingdom of Justice and Righteousness. His is a rule marked by care for people and mercy toward the weak. This rule isn't one of self-aggrandising power, but enacts and embodies the best hopes of God's covenant with his people.

And this 'God with us' is the covenant-making, world-transforming, justice-bringing God. A God who cares, who insists on justice, righteousness, and peace in the lives of all people, and who is personally present to see that these qualities shape the nature of human life. This God not only reigns supreme, but this God is here. Now.
He took upon himself human flesh and was born in Bethlehem, 'wrapped in bands of cloth, and laid in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.' His coming broke the vicious circle of meaningless existence: that impasse of living in the mediocrity of a godless land. Neither living fully for God, nor for ourselves.
Very much like an ancient traffic law in the State of Massachusetts, which read: 'When two vehicles travelling in opposite directions come to a cross road, BOTH SHALL STOP AND NEITHER SHALL MOVE UNTIL THE OTHER HAS PASSED!'

God cares deeply how men and women, boys and girls live.

As our Epistle reading from Titus 2:11-14 reminded us, God's unmerited favour, Grace, does have an impact on the way people live their lives.
Grace trains and disciplines (vv12-12). For God in Christ gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity and purify for himself a people of his own who are zealous for good deeds.

So we celebrate at Christmas the First coming of God's grace in Christ, as well as celebrating the promised Second coming.

"For the grace of God appeared, bringing salvation to all" (Titus 2:11). Christmas is about God's grace. We can summarise the events of the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ in a single word – Grace: an epiphany. God's grace makes its appearance in Jesus Christ, whose purpose is the salvation of all people. God's intention in appearing in Christ is to save our human race: Jew, Greek, slave, free, male and female (Galatians 3:28). It also includes sinner and penitent, persecutor and persecuted, 'insiders' and 'outsiders' of every type. God's saving grace knows no limits.

And that's why Jesus, in Matthew 25, calls his brothers and sisters those who are hungry and are given food, thirsty and are given a drink, strangers and are welcomed, naked and are clothed, sick and are taken care of, in prison and are visited (Matthew 25:35-36).

Someone has rewritten this passage like this:
"I was hungry and you formed a committee to investigate my hunger.
I was homeless and you filed a report on my plight;
I was sick and you held a seminar on the situation of the underprivileged;
You have investigated all aspects of my plight and yet I am still hungry, homeless and sick".

Christ waiting to find room: "There was no place for them in the inn."
At Bethlehem it was but an ordinary incident. The very limited means of accommodation in a poor village had been extended as far as they would go.
Those who came first would be first served; and those who could pay the best would be most carefully attended to.

But the travellers were not bidden to go elsewhere; they were not left in the street to seek lodging on a winter's night; what could not be found in the house might, since nothing better could be offered, be found in an outhouse. And so the Saviour of the world was born in a stable, and cradled in a manger: "there was no place for them in the inn".

What occurred then, undesignedly, has been repeated of deliberate intention ever since. That inn at Bethlehem is like every human heart and community ever since. We find it easy to make room for our loved ones and all our chambers are filled. Sadly, the poorest, narrowest, and least-honoured place is allotted to Jesus.
The lamentable but plain truth is this, that from first to last the world, which he has made, has found no room for God. And many celebrate Jesus Christ's birthday, but don't want him to be present. The birthday boy will spoil our celebration of his birthday if he is around.

"He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not." (John 1:10)

But Christ came to make all people free,
Free from their isolation and their fear.

He came –
Homeless – and so at home among all; for God's heart has continually been with those who have no home.

In poverty – and so the guest of all;

In weakness – and so at the mercy of all.

Ordinary – and so approachable by all;

A man with time for all,
A man for others; Jesus, Son of Man.

He was in the world, and nothing came between him and the world.

So that all people might be one with him,
And at one with each other.

Only a refugee Christ could win forgiveness, and bring all the wanderers home rejoicing. Our lives therefore must be lives accompanied by compassion and sacrificial sharing as we meet the needs of the world's refugees.

St Augustine of Hippo put it majestically when he said:
"He lies in a manger, but contains the world;

He feeds at the breast, but also feeds the angels.
He is wrapped in swaddling clothes, but vests us with immortality.
He found no place in the inn, but makes for himself a temple in the hearts of believers.

In order that weakness might become strong, strength became weak."
(St Augustine of Hippo, Sermon 190.3,4)

Yes. Jesus is what God means by humanity: He is what humanity means by God.

So let us be attentive to who it is that knocks at our hearts, for whom we are unwilling or careless to find room. It is the mystery and sheer prodigality of the

Guest that seeks admission –
the graciousness of such an Indwelling Presence – which may cause us to shrink from contemplating it, and come to share the feeling of the Apostle Peter when he exclaimed, "Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord."
But he is seeking admission, and are we to say that we have 'no room'?
Let that be far from us! Let us welcome him without reserve – especially as we meet him among 'the ragged and the naked, the oppressed and the sweated, and in those who have lost hope and those who are struggling to make good'.[1] And his love and grace will do the rest.

To help us, like Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, the angels and the three Wise Men, say 'Yes', the choir will now sing. Please join in the third time, as stated in the rubric.

'No room for the Baby at Bethlehem's Inn, only a Cattle Shed.
No room for the Baby at Bethlehem's Inn
Only a cattle shed.
No home on this earth for the dear Son of God
Nowhere to lay his head.
Only a cross did they give to our Lord,
Only a borrowed tomb.
Today he is seeking a place in your heart,
Will you still say to him 'No room'?
O Lord, in my heart there's a welcome for thee.
Gladly I now would say,
Come in, blessed Saviour, my heart and my life
Henceforth would own thy sway.
Long hast thou waited and long knocked in vain
Outside my heart's closed door.
Oh, cleanse me from sin, then, dear Lord, enter in
And dwell there for evermore.

[1] As Bishop Frank Weston, of Zanzibar (1923)

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