Sermon preached at a Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols at St. Andrew's Church of Scotland, Rome

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart, be always acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.

Once again we are approaching that magical time, Christmas is coming. Despite cases going up and a new Covid-variant popping up - after two years of pandemic disaster we are once again approaching the most long-awaited day of the year. Who doesn’t remember those Christmases past?

At Christmas, history repeats itself, things start anew - the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ brings to us a new year and new thoughts for a new and fresh beginning, but much like Scrooge in Dickens’ Christmas Carol, it is also a time to reflect on the past, some of us will miss being children, some of us will miss some long gone folks, and those treasured memories... this is a time to reflect on the present and take action - this is the one mission God gave us. 

Finally, it is a time to look ahead and make some good planning. The warmth and coziness of familiarity is what makes us comfortable at Christmas; the carols that we can finally sing again, the meals and fellowship, but what’s missing? What is it that can be changed? I am sure you will all say in unison “a lot can be changed”. 

In 1918, Eric Milner-White, then Dean of King’s College, Cambridge, drafted the first service of Nine Lessons and Carols, which has become to this day, perhaps the most renowned ever Christmas church service. The carols which were and are so closely linked to Christmas then as are now, were originally thought of as dancing songs. 

Think of “Tomorrow shall be my dancing day” - if you listen to Renaissance madrigals they all have that “fa la la” which we now associate with Christmas carols. In that particular carol, Christ tells of his life as a dance. Early Christian thought echoes this idea. Greek theologians defined the communion of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost in the Trinity as a round dance.

At Christmas, these carols take us back to this idea of divine dancing that brings forth the good fruits of his grace. The meaning of this holy dance can be found in Luke’s story of the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem, in which this baby found in the muck and straw of a cave for cattle is being sung the praises by the angelic host; in Matthew’s account, the three gifts-bearing magi from the east are guided by a star. In John’s account, we hear of God made flesh and know of his divine glory.

One of the first and certainly most impressive carol services I ever attended was at St. Thomas’ church in New York many years ago. I am biased, and please forgive me - nobody does Christmas like the New Yorkers. 

This beautiful Gothic Revival Anglican/Episcopal church at the heart of Manhattan follows the Anglican choral tradition and has an English-trained world renowned choir of men and boys. That night, they offered a rendition of one of my favorite carols, and it was like being brought right into the heavenly courts with the angels and archangels all singing God’s praises.

“See amidst the winter’s snow” was written originally as “a hymn for Christmas Day” by the nineteenth-century minister, Edward Caswall. This moving piece that echoes in one’s heart and mind is set to its splendid tune by Sir John Goss, at the time organist at St. Paul’s Cathedral. 

The tune is called “humility” which I think echoes the theme of the carol perfectly. One of its verses speaks of the wonder and mystery of a mighty God coming to us as a tender child in Bethlehem: Sacred Infant all divine, What a tender love was thine, So to come from highest bliss Down to such a world as this.

Our Christian faith is said to be a “religion of the incarnation”, yes we are an Easter people, but there would be no resurrection without the nativity. An old joke goes that Easter is a festival for the Orthodox, Good Friday for the Lutherans, but Christmas is definitely for the Anglicans. 

Certainly, there has been a significant stress on the incarnation in much Anglican theology, and our carols are a popular expression of this. Yet, the reality of the incarnation goes beyond the tinsel, trimmings and yuletide greenery - it brings us back to a harsh reality.

If you walk through many of Rome’s oldest churches, you will find many nativity scenes. In this lovely Roman tradition, the nativity scene finds itself in a setting that looks remarkably like one of Rome’s streets or piazzas at the time of our great-grandparents - this shows us how contemporary the incarnation can be. Often, one finds more than just the ox and ass, but a whole vibrant village with fishermen, shepherds, markets, fountains, and even trattorias! 

What is interesting though is the presence of old Roman ruins that remind us of the triumph of Christ over paganism, that little child you see brought down a whole empire. That is the strength of faith. Christmas cribs go back to St. Francis and they used to offer a visual aid for the poor, illiterate Medieval Christians.

The child of Bethlehem was born into a world of oppression and injustice. Matthew reminds us of the slaughter of the Holy Innocents at the hands of King Herod. The world then as the world today, was. a nasty, brutish and horrible reality. Amazing to think that the God that created the whole vastness of the universe now was standing in the cold, muck and the mess. 

St. Paul in his letter to the Philippians reminds us of a Christ who did not think equality with God a thing to be held on to, but to be “emptied” on himself out of the love for all people. It is out of emptiness that we are filled, only the void can be made full.

“Down to such a world as this” - the God whom we are going to meet at Christmas is a God who does not stand aside, but reaches out to us in the darkness of the world, even and especially in the end to the darkness at the hour of our death. He redeems the fallen by bringing out love. It is at Christmas that we are called once again to this mission which he entrusted to us. We feed on his life, as we are called to live that life.

We become bearers of Christ into the world. Once, a great Anglican theologian, Henry Scott Holland, said: “you cannot believe in the incarnation and not be concerned about drains!” 

It means that you cannot gather around your Christmas tree on Friday night, while not worrying about the hungry in the Horn of Africa, the victims of land-mines and casualties of war throughout the world, for those suffering from HIV/AIDS, or about the justice and right ordering of economic life in the world, about the environment, the deforestation in the Amazon, the melting of ice-caps, polluting industries, and all the terrible consequences of human selfishness.

The child of Bethlehem was not born in Disney World, the Christmas story is not a fairy-tale, but it is a story of true love and strife which comes down to the lowest part of our need - your need and mine, in this time, as in the time past and future for Christ is then, now, and for ever. It is the need of every man and woman whom we meet.

17th century Anglican divine, George Herbert, writes these beautiful words in his Christmas poem, I think they sum up Christ’s role in our lives and at this time of the year very well:

We sing one common Lord; wherefore he should

Himself the candle hold.

I will go searching, till I find a sun

Shall stay, till we have done;

A willing shiner, that shall shine as gladly,

As frost-nipped suns look sadly.

Then will we sing, and shine all our own day,

And one another pay:

His beams shall cheer my breast, and both so twine,

Till ev'n His beams sing, and my music shine.

The grace given to us is a life and love to be lived and shared - for Jesus gave us two commandments, the love of God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength... and the equal love for our neighbor. 

This is what human life is really about, and it is that grace which makes this possible as we are approaching the celebration of this Christmas festival, when we give thanks for the holy child born at Bethlehem brought to us by Mary; a simple, lowly maiden like many of her time and this. 

In this incarnation joy, let us celebrate our cherished memories, let us be thankful for the birth of our God and Messiah as we plan to start anew. Many at this time are not happy, think of Scrooge again - he hated Christmas, some of us still do, from everyday men and women to clergy, that is often because of bad memories of holidays past. 

Then let us come together and do good for these people, give them a wonderful Christmas, Christmas is about giving - it is about sharing. For those who can see clearly, help others to see, for those who have heart, give heart to others - for where there is love and care, there is our Lord and Savior come again. 

I still remember a Christmas service a few years ago at All Saints’, the organ was thundering its final notes of some beloved carol and then it came to a dramatic end as the service flowed into communion - in a moment of silence, during those words of institution, only a sound could be heard over that cold church on that very dark and silent night… a toddler bursted into a loud cry. Suddenly we were in Bethlehem, and to this day it is one of the most powerful spiritual experiences I have ever had. 

Be proactive, as we are approaching this holy tide of Christmas - let us carry God’s incarnation light to the world, let us make a change and share his good news, Christmas lasts twelve days, but the incarnation is everlasting, it is yesterday, today and tomorrow, and our God will follow us always. Give and it shall be given to you. Act, and his kingdom will descend on us more quickly.

Christ is born, Christ is among us, go and bring his news into the world. Do as God did to us by giving us his only begotten Son. May all of you know the peace and the joy of this great feast of the incarnation.  Glory to God in the Highest, and Peace to his People on Earth! Have a holy and blessed Christmas. 

Hail, thou ever blessed morn, Hail, redemption's happy dawn, Sing through all Jerusalem, Christ is born in Bethlehem.

Amen.