Friday 25 December 2015

Homily for Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve Jubilee Year of Mercy





Christmas Blessings to one and all!
Here is the sermon I gave at Midnight Mass at our friary last night...
May it bless you and yours. +
Brother Richard


 Christmas Eve 2015 The Year of Mercy

Our God bows low…

This is the message of Christmas Night…

The One who is the Lord of Lords, and the Light from Light from all eternity;
the One who is the only begotten Son and the Eternal Word of the Father bows low…

Bows because of us…
Bows before us…
He bows so low that He descends, emptying Himself of all that would keep Him separate from us,
of all that would make us feel unworthy, or lost, or shameful…

The awful and terrible All-Holy presence in the Garden of Eden who sent Adam and Eve hurrying to hide their fallen selves now hides Himself in our flesh.

The voice of thunder upon the Mountain of Sinai that made all those who heard it throw themselves on the ground in fear while they begged Moses to pray that they would never hear it again is now heard in the cry and gurgle of new born baby.

The One whose luminous glory filled the Temple and whose reign transcends space and time chooses the deep rich darkness of a woman’s womb and delivered into time is now swaddled against the night’s cold and barely fills the manger He lies in…

Our God bows low…

He has descended to be with us, to seek us out.
He has descended to raise us up…

The Word became Flesh and dwelt amongst us…
Amongst us sinners!

We who were meant to be the joyous light filled pinnacle of creation but who had fallen to the lowest place of darkness and despair, now find ourselves called out of darkness and into His own wonderful light…

And His light is not the proud light of glory, but the gentle glow of lantern in a stable that is really only a little cave; just a crack in the earth that over the ages will crack the hardest of hearts open if they just hear its call…

Our God bows low…
He bows down to raise us up,
He empties Himself so that we may be filled,
He leaves the 99 to seek the One who is lost.

He comes not as conqueror or Lord, though He is truly both;
but only as Shepherd, Healer, Teacher, Carpenter…
Child…
But we forget…
we forget this every year…
every day…
even, perhaps, every moment…

We fail to hear the cry of the newborn calling us to this new beginning and so we need our Christmas celebration… and perhaps this year we need it like never before… we need its reminder of the Love and mercy that is poured into our world. The infinite Love and Mercy which sustains it and nourishes it and heals it and renews it in every moment…

We need it to call us to watch with the Shepherds and the Wise men for that glimmer of light in the sky of our souls, for that song of the Angels that we stopped singing a long time ago when we fell from the Eden of our innocence. It’s harmony has always been there just at the edge of hearing, on the threshold of our dreams, resting within our heart waiting to burst forth again and renew us with the light of Christmas, the light of Christ Mass, the light of the Child of Bethlehem who makes everything new and whose light the darkness can never overpower.

We seek that light in every Christmas bulb kindled on tree or shop-front or street corner, in every sparkle of tinsel or flame of hearth even when we do so un-remembering why it has ever been our human need to light lamps at the darkest time over the countless ages of our longing for He who is the Light for our darkness…

So how do we touch this mystery the Word Made Flesh, this mystery of mercy made flesh in our midst?
How can we, the cynical and the proud, the lazy and the lost, the anxious and the tired recover this gift offered to us in every moment?

We must come to the crib…
Do not hold back…
Do not let our sins hold us back…
We have been invited…
There is a place for us…
If there were not, if it were only a place for the holy and sainted then there would have been no shepherds, those unclean men of the fields and the hills, always excluded from the town and the temple.
Yet they are the first called, the first Apostles of the Lord who speak face to face with Angels and bring the message of the miracle to the people round about and to us…
Down through the centuries that message they were given comes to us again and speaks to us all the louder in these days of war and violence and so much pain:
“Glory to God in the Highest Heaven, and Peace to all people of good will!”

If we were not invited there would have been no Ox, no Donkey, for us to find ourselves between… they have their place there by right… they the only honoured witnesses to the moment of the Divine Birth.
Greeted by the newborn Babe as His gentle friends, they the emissaries of that kingdom whose countless centuries of simple animal obedience honoured him more by their very being than we have ever done until He came and gave us our new beginning in Love, are first to carol His coming with the warmth of body and breath.

So come now, join with St. Francis and the brothers who journey through the ages to the Crib taking not the smooth paved road to town square or shining basilica but a mountain track into the deep forest where a cave lies prepared to stun the people back to innocence. Follow those torches lighting their bare-footed steps and sing with them those ancient songs, of Holly and Ivy, of Blood and Berry, of Candlelight and Crib as we travel to the Cave where time stands still and the white candle is kindled as eternity enters time and the Babe is born to die; where God bows low and the Father of the World to come, sleeps gently on His Mother’s breast…

Come to the crib…

Come to the cave where Mother Earth holds her most precious treasure and there bow low too…
You will have to…
I will have to…
For none can enter this place without bowing…
Without stooping…
To enter this first Holy Door of Mercy you must enter at a child’s height, and with a child’s heart… and then you will hear the whispered choirs of the ages sing their eternal “Venite Adoremus” and looking around you will find that no matter how old, or hardened, or weak you are you have the shining eyes of a child again…
This is the first gift to you of the One who is Mercy itself, the One who restores innocence and heals hearts long hardened… and then you will discover Christmas, the reality of Christmas again…

Not the Christmas of the shops and the TV’s and the black Fridays, and the rows, and the drinks, and the noise, and the pressure, and the stress, and the stuff, (so much stuff), and the buying, and the queuing, and… and… and…
Stop, breathe, be…
All that is another thing altogether… a distraction… the mere wrapping paper on the real Christmas Gift…

Having bowed low you will come to stillness there sitting upon the rough straw of the crib, the perfect stillness of a Mother and Child, and stilled yourself you will know the new beginning that comes with the Child.
You will discover again the true Christmas that always sits in your heart and there opens a stable to One who is greater than all.
One who is Compassion.
One who is mercy.
One who IS Love…

Our God has bowed low…
He bows so low that wherever we are, He is…
Even in the mess, even despite our sins…
He entered the world in a dung filled stable…
How could He ever draw back from you, draw back from me…
He bows so low that He seeks to enter the stable of our hearts now and in every moment and once born there to invite us to begin again in love
He bows so low that, yes, we can sometimes forget Him… for sometimes what is nearest to us we do not see unless we open the eyes of our heart again with a child’s simplicity; until we come to the crib, yearly, daily, even in every moment entering the Holy Door of Mercy by serving each other in compassion and love, by simply bowing low.
So bow low this Christmas and be met by the God who bows low.
Enter the cave.
Come to the crib.
Cross the Holy Door of Mercy.
Become Love.




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