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Tuesday, 8 December 2020

Start:Stop-His Fullness

Woodcut by Benjamin Miller, 'John the Baptist in Prison,' 1927

Hello and welcome to this week’s Start:Stop reflection from St Stephen Walbrook, my name is Phillip Dawson. You can listen to an audio recording of this reflection at this link. We begin with a short reading from the first chapter of the Gospel of John.


Bible Reading John 1.14-18

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ ”) From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.


Reflection

In the Gospel readings set for the second and third weeks of Advent we hear from John the Baptist; the prophet who was a forerunner of Jesus, announced his coming and prepared the way for his ministry. John teaches us that receiving the fullness of God’s grace requires a poverty of spirit; we need to make room in our lives for the Lord. Speaking of Jesus, John declares later “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

Embracing our emptiness is particularly difficult and perhaps especially so at this time of year. Our Christmas traditions seem to magnify the apparent relationship between success and fullness (not the reverse), encouraging us to be overflowing with generosity, showering lavish presents and hospitality on those around us; many choose this time of year to make generous and vital donations to charities, supporting those in need.

As we prepare to celebrate the joy of Christmas, the cries of John the Baptist in our Advent readings remind us that we are all in need. We all need the fullness of God’s grace and we all need to make space in our lives for his coming among us.

This year, for many, Christmas will be filled with emptiness – the loss of loved ones, health, money, security and freedom. Many churches have been holding ‘Blue Christmas’ services to support those for whom this time of year is particularly challenging. We can find hope in the cries of John the Baptist - that it is only in our emptiness that we can fully appreciate the abundance of God. 

My first conscious memory of praying to God is at just such a time; before Christmas in 1986 when my father left us to live with a work colleague with whom he had been having a relationship. Writing about grief, C.S.Lewis describes the ‘terror’ of memory; that the memories of loved ones can so easily become our own fabrications – snowflakes of our own creation that settle down on top of and ultimately obscure the truth. Perhaps this terror of memory could apply to any traumatic event? Looking back nearly thirty five years, it is certainly hard for me to know whether what I see is above or below the snowdrifts! I do remember the tears and a lot of anger and shouting. Certain scenes come to mind; the deposit of my father’s belongings in the garden and the doors being locked; his removal from family photographs. I remember being aware and concerned for our financial security and about practicalities - the beauty of living in a remote hamlet in deepest Dorset soon fades away when you are left with no car! Somehow, we were taken to Bristol to stay with my aunt, uncle and cousins who looked after us over Christmas.

One memory which is clear is that amongst all the darkness and uncertainty, I had faith. Faith in God. Faith that, whilst life seemed to have been turned upside down and there would be difficulties ahead, God was on our side, God was with us.

Thirty years later, I had a very different experience of emptiness at Christmas as I spent December in the southern hemisphere for the first time, with my partner’s family. This was a fantastic and joy filled trip, but empty of all my usual church activities in the run up to Christmas and an environment in which most of the symbols and imagery that I had always associated with the season seemed empty of meaning (advent carols and prayers about darkness to light need a bit of abstract thinking when it's bright every day by 3.30am). In the shops, multinational advertising campaigns meant seeing shimmering evergreen plastic trees displayed in 40 degree heat to the sound of "dashing through the snow". The comedy somehow made it easier to dismiss many of the “trappings” we associate with the season in the northern hemisphere.

Empty of candlelit carol services, Christmas seemed more human! Looking around it seemed as though every road was full of taxis and trailers piled precariously high with passengers en-route to other parts of the country. People could be seen walking in the streets carrying their belongings on their heads as they returned home to celebrate. Even the animals in the Kruger park seemed to remind me of the journey of the Holy Family! In a Christmas empty of the activities and symbols I had grown so used to, the words of John’s Gospel seemed startlingly alive; “And the Word became flesh and lived among us”.

At the end of a year when so many have lost so much, can we learn from John the Baptist and embrace our emptiness; remembering that without poverty of spirit there can be no abundance of God.


Prayer

From the Advent writings of Saint Oscar Romero on his first Advent in El Salvador;

No one can celebrate a genuine Christmas
without being truly poor.
The self-sufficient,
the proud,
those who, because they have everything,
look down on others,
those who have no need even of God –
for them there will be no Christmas.
Only the poor,
the hungry,
those who need someone to come on their behalf,
will have that someone.
That someone is God,
Emmanuel,
God-with-us.
Without poverty of spirit
there can be no abundance of God.

Amen


Thank you for listening to this reflection. Find out about our joy-filled services and events during Advent on our website; our carol services and special concerts celebrating Beethoven’s 250th anniversary are not-to-be-missed! I hope you have a wonderful week ahead.

Links
Oscar Romero – Advent Readings from a Modern Martyr
Woodcut by Benjamin Miller, 'John the Baptist in Prison,' 1927 - The Smithsonian


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