“Swell to Great;” more power to the organ. It was made for moments like this. Power too to this sacred place, our little church. It too was made for moments like this. Walls vibrate, hearts swell, chests heave and with enormous fondness we wrap ourselves around the words, “Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning.” Power to the people, then. The bustle of last minute shopping may have been only an hour or two ago, but it seems like an age for now all is changed, there is a great stillness in the heart. It’s Christmas. More power to it. To a background of hugs and kisses we hear other words, less “out of this world” maybe, but in their own way, no less sacred, “do drop round if you get a chance, we’d love to see you.” Power to the love that brought us to this point.

Christmas working its magic, or something more? Let’s not exclude any part of the experience for Christmas is after all one enormous invitation, posted in heaven, delivered on earth. That Jesus is God made man, is more than an article of faith, it is a warm and pressing invitation to each one of us. In Churchspeak, we refer to this particular invitation as “the mystery of the Incarnation.” Possibly because of that word, “mystery,” we are inclined to leave this invitation on the sidelines, while Christmas continues around the tree.

But wait, please, stop just where you are. The great truths of our faith are called mysteries not to put us off, but to invite us to look deeper. The Almighty has no desire to be aloof. These mysteries are not puzzles we cannot understand, but wells of riches we can never completely fathom. And the incarnation? Put very simply it is the brightest glimpse of God’s love our frail human nature could possibly cope with. Anything stronger, any clearer vision and we might well take fright and conceal ourselves in utter disbelief. Here after all is God at work, saying not simply “look at me, I am here,” but actually inviting us “round.” Failing to unpack this greatest of gifts would be like those awful family tragedies that occcasionally blight our Christmasses. The technical langauge of the creed should not put us off, rather it invites us to explore.

When we take the time to unwrap the Incarnation, we find it reaching into our very hearts, warming those areas of our lives we may consider, unloveable. A stupidity as old as Adam and Eve’s wish to conceal themselves in the garden. If we would be delivered from all anxiety God alone will suffice. Let’s come out of hiding then. In the Incarnation, God invites us to be happy in our own skins. For all our personal failings, for all the sad weariness of world history, humanity is the best possible place to live our lives. We should not try to escape or short-circuit it by indulging in denial or pretence. Here in our flesh-bound, spirit-driven, time-wrapped lives, God is busy re-creating us. We are, as St. Paul has it, “God’s work of art”. Christmas is a star studded reminder of just what’s going on in our everyday lives, not because of any new gadget available in the shops, but because God has ordained it so. It is all gift; ours to unwrap with grateful hands, or simply push to one side and ignore.

George Herbert’s much loved masterpiece, “Love” speaks of the richness that is at the heart of life. The poem reminds us that whatever foraging about in shops we feel we must do, it should be based not on an urge to impress, but on our heart’s desire to share and enjoy the great mystery of our existence.

A very happy Christmas to you all. Here’s the poem.

Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lacked anything.

'A guest’, I answered, ‘Worthy to be here.’
Love said, 'You shall be he.'
‘I, the unkind, the ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on thee.’
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
'Who made the eyes but I?'

Truth, Lord, but I have marred them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.'
And know you not', says Love, ‘who bore the blame?'
‘My dear, then I will serve.’
‘You must sit down', says Love, 'and taste my meat.'
So I did sit and eat.