Hebrews 1. 1 – 4
John 1. 1 – 14
Just before Christmas a couple of years ago, I saw a show on BBC 2 called ‘Under a Christmas Sky’ – in fact I think it’s back on the iPlayer now, if you’d like to find it.
Chris Packham and Michaela Strachan are sent off to the desert in a very BBC kind of way, to try to see the so-called ‘Star of Bethlehem’ which the astronomers said was due to appear again that night.
I know I’m giving away the ending here, but you can probably guess that it did appear; otherwise they wouldn’t have made a show about it! And rather than a star, it was actually a meeting of two planets crossing over each other, shining brighter than the stars around.
Thanks to our modern knowledge of the solar system, astronomers can tell us that there was a particularly bright and rare convergence of planets just like this, for a few weeks around November and December, around two thousand and twenty one years ago. No doubt it would’ve been irresistible to any wise men who happened to see it.
It’s so easy, isn’t it, to hear miraculous stories like the wise men following the star, and separate them out from real life. Those are just nice tales that we listen to at Christmas, and perhaps we suspend our disbelief for a moment.
They feel like miraculous and slightly unbelievable solutions to fix problems, like God just sticking a star in the sky to lead the wise men to go where he wanted them to go.
Or, indeed, like God miraculously becoming a human being in Jesus to come and save us from our sins, because we’d become too disobedient, and needed correcting.
But what if… what if these amazing things aren’t solutions to problems, but all part of God’s plan, formed before the worlds began?
What if God, when he created the universe and set the planets in motion, planned all along that one day, this bright convergence of planets, that only happens every few thousand years, would draw people towards his Son? What if he works with all that he has created, in bringing about his loving purposes?
And rather than being a solution to a problem, what if God had planned from the very beginning of creation to enfold us ever more closely to himself in love, to the point of becoming one of us, in Jesus Christ? To the point of becoming dependent on other humans, as a helpless baby; to the point of suffering the worst of humanity, in torture and death?
Tonight, through our passages from scripture, the ancient hymns, the timeless liturgy, we catch a glimpse of the truth that the birth of this sacred child is part of the fulfilment of God’s plans for us, formed before even the first created things existed.
We heard in that amazing prologue to John’s Gospel, that this Jesus we celebrate tonight was with God in the beginning; that he is God. That nothing that was created came into being without him.
Indeed, we will sing in just a short time, that this Jesus is “Of the Father’s love begotten, Ere the worlds began to be, He is Alpha and Omega, He the source, the ending he Of the things that are, that have been, And that future years shall see, Evermore and evermore!”
The birth of Jesus is the key moment in the story of the relationship between God and humanity; and it is the story of a relationship that grows closer, and closer, through the pages of scripture.
From the patriarchs who first heard God calling them nearer to him; from the prophets who heard the promise of the Messiah, the coming dawn of our salvation; to Mary, a humble girl of absolutely no significance in human eyes, who carried the very Word of God within her womb; who birthed and fed and nurtured the one who brought all things to birth, and sustains them with his love.
All the time, through all the pages of history, God’s love has been drawing things towards this moment, this birth that we celebrate tonight; and the work that his Son will do for us on earth. From the beginning until the very end of all things, God holds all things in his love, and knows what plans he has for each of us.
And so we sit here, in the chaos and darkness and uncertainty of this world and these times; but we sit here in hope.
Because God has been in the darkness, in Jesus; he has experienced the very worst of it. God has taken the very worst that humans can do within his creation, and through his love, used it to bring about the greatest possible good.
He will do his work, he will bring about his loving plans for us, even through all of this. We may not be able to see what on earth his plan could be for us at the moment, or for those who live in the darkness of pain, abuse, or oppression. But we hold on to the promise that the light will shine in that darkness, and the darkness will never overcome it.
We have heard over the weeks of Advent the story of this ever-closer relationship between God and his creation. But that story is not over yet. Soon, our God will come even closer to us; as Christ, the eternal Word, will make himself fully present to us, in the sacrament.
And as we receive this sacrament within ourselves, as we receive the incredible gift of Christ’s presence, we join in the story of that relationship of love. And we add our own pages to that story, to all those of scripture, as God works within us and through us to bring about his loving purposes.
So let us rejoice this holy night, and join our praises with all of creation, to honour this wondrous birth that brings earth to heaven, and heaven to earth.
“O, you heights of heaven, adore him! Angel-hosts, his glory sing! All dominions bow before him And extol our God and King: Let no tongue on earth be silent, Every voice his praises bring, Evermore and evermore!” Amen.