Today Christmastide comes to an end with the celebration of the Baptism of the Lord. It’s a feast full of the promise of new life. It takes us back to our beginning, recalling creation when God’s spirit, hovering over the waters, called new life out of the the swirling chaos:
“When Jesus also had been baptised and was praying, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove; and a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.’”
It doesn’t take more than a quick glance at the news to recognise that we are living in chaotic times. That is stressful and unsettling, so this reminder that it was out of the chaos that God called us into being is consoling and encouraging.
It also calls to mind another, more personal beginning. Through our baptism in Christ each of us has been called to become a new creation, to blossom into new life in Christ. Through the gift of this baptism we have become favoured and beloved daughters and sons of God. This certainty can give us the courage and hope living away that allow our baptismal promises to shape our lives and our interactions with one another.
As we start a new year it’s worthwhile to take some time to reflect on these beginnings founded on love and hope. Time reflecting on our baptismal promises and how they might shape our life seems to me to be time well spent as we make our way through these challenging times.
As we celebrate the Baptism of the Lord how might your baptismal promises shape your daily life?
Category: Liturgy
Today we’re celebrating the feast of Epiphany. Together with the Baptism and the wedding at Cana it’s part of a trio of epiphanies that recognise Jesus as the promised Messiah, the Son of God. It’s full of awe, wonder and joy. Yet there’s another side to it. There’s challenge, threat and uncertainty there too. The magi find the Christ after a hard, and sometimes dangerous journey that’s summed up by these words from T. S. Eliot’s poem, “The journey of the Magi”:
“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.”
Their journey brings them joy and delight as the gospel makes clear:
“The sight of the star filled them with delight, and going into the house they saw the child and his mother Mary, and falling to their knees did him homage.”
Yet it’s a joy that doesn’t cancel out difficulty, challenge, suffering and hardship, but manifests in the midst of all those hard realities of life. Instead it appears alongside them never dismissing them or cancelling them out.
Generally, I think we’d prefer that joy and delight would cancel the hardship, but it is just possible that, by not doing so, the gospel offers us a greater hope and a greater joy. This way it takes account of the hardships and suffering we all live with, and tells us that it’s in the midst of those that we’ll discover the joy the Magi followed the star to discover.
In our challenging and uncertain times that seems to me to increase the hope by acknowledging the hardship and telling us that however hard our journey we can discover and delight in the presence of Christ who chooses to dwell in our midst.
Where is Christ inviting you to delight in his presence in your life this Epiphany?
It’s tempting to tell ourselves that Christmas is over. The world has moved on, many decorations are down. The present giving, parties and gatherings are over and life has gone back to its normal routine. We can be tempted to move on with everyone else, packing the wondrous and challenging feast of the Incarnation away with the dusty decorations.
Yet, these days of Christmastide offer us a real opportunity to spend more time reflecting in the Incarnation. The gospels for the past few days are focussed on recognising Christ’s presence in the midst of ordinary life. Yesterday John the Baptist pointed out Jesus in the street, telling his disciples:
“Look, there is the Lamb of God…”
He goes on to tell how he recognised Jesus as Messiah when he baptised him. The theme carries on in today’s gospel. John once again points Jesus out to his disciples, but there is a new development. This time two of his disciples go after Jesus, asking him where he lives and being invited to “come and see”.
When Andrew brings his brother Peter to meet Jesus the recognition deepens. As Peter recognises Jesus, Jesus recognises something new in Peter. He highlights a quality in Peter that I suspect Peter wasn’t aware of. In that moment of mutual recognition Jesus offers Peter a new name and new life.
These days offer us a quiet moment of mutual recognition with Christ, allowing us to recognise his presence with us and opening our hearts to allow him to being recognised by him.
Where is Christ inviting you to recognise his presence in your life?
I’m always grateful for these days between Christmas and Epiphany. After the busyness of our celebrations they give us an opportunity to reflect more quietly on this great gift of the Incarnation. They give us the opportunity connect the Christ child in the manger to the adult Jesus who calls and challenges us.
They give us the opportunity to follow the example of the Magi, still on their journey. These wise men spent their lives seeking truth and wisdom. It led them on a long and unlikely journey.
In today’s gospel we encounter another seeker of truth, John the Baptist. He’s also a man dedicated to seeking truth and pointing out the presence of Christ when he discovered it. When he sees Jesus coming towards him he tells the crowd:
“Look, there is the lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world.”
His pointing out Christ’s presence offers us hope. He makes us aware that Christ is there waiting for us with an invitation, a challenge and a promise. We’re all too aware of the sin that touches our lives and our world. We know the issues it raises can seem insurmountable and leave us feeling desperate and hopeless.
John’s words remind us that, however desperate we might feel there is hope. Jesus invites us to to seek truth and wisdom and to follow him on a journey that will challenge us and lead us into new life in his presence.
How are you being called to seek truth and wisdom in these days before Epiphany?
As we head back to work after the Christmas holidays it can be easy to forget that Christmastide is not over. We are still in the midst of the Christmas season, still celebrating the miracle of the Incarnation, of God is taking human form. As so often happens with liturgy the tone changes in these days before Epiphany.
Until now we have focused on the miracle of God’s presence made manifest in our midst. Today’s gospel brings us back to John the Baptist, with his call to alertness, to actively looking for Christ’s presence. He is quick to point away from himself towards Christ:
“I am not the Christ…I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said.”
His words remind us that we are called to be constantly seeking God. We are to seek God not just in the obvious places, as we stand on or before the crib, as we pray, as we come together to worship and celebrate the newborn King.
We are also called to seek Christ’s presence in every aspect of our lives. However unlikely it might seem to us every encounter, every activity, every engagement is an opportunity to discover the presence of Christ.
This process doesn’t happen automatically. If we are to discover Christ’s presence in every situation we have to be prepared to take a risk. We have to risk softening our hearts and opening them to the possibility of Christ being present even in situations that challenge us and make us uncomfortable.
Where is Christ challenging you to be open to his presence in unexpected situations this Christmastide?
Since I was a child I’ve been fascinated by Mary’s pondering. I always wanted to know what she was pondering, and what treasures she was holding in her heart. If I’m honest, I would still like to know. So today, as we begin a new year with all the hopes and uncertainties that entails I’m reflecting on these words from today’s gospel:
“As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
I imagine that all that Mary faced since the annunciation would have left her with much to ponder. Some of that pondering would have been life-giving, encouraging and hopeful, treasures to help her face whatever the future held. As a young woman, pregnant in unusual circumstances, some of her pondering must touched on the painful, hurtful and judgemental, not treasures to carry into the future, but burdens be laid down.
Mary’s wisdom is that, in the midst of the challenging and uncertainty she faced, she was able to take the time to reflect on what she needed to let go in order to make space for the treasures that would sustain her. This makes her an excellent model for us as we start the New Year. A year of hardships and challenges that has left us with much to ponder. We have to ask ourselves where we discover the hidden treasures in those challenges, and what we have to put down in order to make space for them.
As we move into 2025 what treasures are you carrying in your heart?
The last day of the year is an opportunity to look back over the past year before we move forward into the unknown territory of the new year. It’s a time for discerning what we need to take forward with us and what we need to leave behind.
Looking back 2024 it seems as if the world stage has been overwhelmed by challenge, uncertainty and anxiety. We’ve lurched from crisis to crisis and we know we are facing an uncertain and vulnerable future as we move into the new year.
In such circumstances it’s very tempting to be gloomy, it can feel hard, and even dangerous, to hope in such situations. As I reflected on this I’ve been struck by today’s gospel. Writing from his own challenging and uncertain times John reminds us of the source of our hope:
“The Word was made flesh, he lived among us, and we saw his glory, the glory that is his as the only Son of the Father, full of grace and truth.”
His words take me back to the the heart of Christmas, Christ’s coming with light and truth into the messiness of our world. Even in these dark and uncertain times the light of Christ shines in the darkness, offering us hope and inviting us to trust.
If I look back honestly at this challenging year I find that there are glimmers of light in the midst of the challenges. This presents a new challenge, to actively seek the glimmers of grace and truth that Christ brings however unlikely the circumstances may seem.
As we prepare to enter a new year what gives you the courage to seek the glimmers of Christ’s presence in your life?
So many of the characters in the nativity are outsiders. This is a story that unfolds first in the lives of the marginalised, they are the ones who first recognise and proclaim the Messiah.. Today’s gospel focuses on one of those characters, the prophetess Anna. An older woman, long widowed she choses to live out her days in the Temple, praying and fasting. I can imagine that she’d have appeared at best a little unusual, as older women who defy norms so often do.
Yet, regardless of the opinions of others she seems to have had a clear idea of what she was called to do. She was called to a life of waiting and watching for the coming of the Messiah. In doing that she was living out the call of her people who had been waiting and hoping for this through centuries when hope seemed impossible.
No one knew what the Messiah would look like, but no one, including Anna, would have expected him to appear as a vulnerable baby reliant on others for every need. Her life of faithful prayer and her life on the margins prepared her to recognise the Messiah, opening her heart to see beyond surface appearance.
Having recognised the Messiah her next step becomes clear:
“She came by just at that moment and began to praise God; and she spoke of the child to all who looked forward to the deliverance of Jerusalem.”
This is not news she is to keep to herself, instead she is called to proclaim his presence to all those who had been waiting and hoping for the coming of the Messiah.
Where are you being called to proclaim Christ’s presence this Christmastide?
It’s tempting dismiss this feast as irrelevant. We can see it as holding up an image of a “perfectly happy” family that we can’t emulate. Yet that’s not the image the gospel presents of the holy family. The circumstances of Jesus’ conception and birth presents a family about as far from any norms as its possible to imagine.
Today’s gospel also paints a much more realistic picture of family life. It presents a family dealing with mistakes, slip ups and misunderstandings that we all recognise. Having gone up to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover Mary and Joseph have lost Jesus.
We can imagine the fear that gripped them when they discovered he was missing, and their relief when they found him safe in the Temple. Yet the relief soon gives way to more uncertainty and conflict as they see a new side to Jesus emerging as he tells them:
“Why were you looking for me?’ he replied. ‘Did you not know that I must be busy with my Father’s affairs?’ But they did not understand what he meant.”
This is an exchange that any family with growing children recognises, that changing balance between dependence and independence, safety and freedom that can sometimes be fractious. They find a way through, with Jesus returning to Nazareth with is family:
“He then went down with them and came to Nazareth and lived under their authority.”
Mary’s response to the shifting situation shows wisdom and insight:
“His mother stored up all these things in her heart.”
At a busy and stressful time of year this feast invites us to reflect on what we store in our heart, what we allow to grow there and how that might impact our relationships.
What are you pondering in your heart this Christmastide?
The feast of the Holy Innocents is the most challenging of the Christmas Octave Its stark brutality and unbearable violence shocks us. We prefer to airbrush it, or ignore it because it sits so uncomfortably both with our image of the nativity and with their view of ourselves.
It would be so much more convenient and comfortable to place it firmly in the past, something that we would never allow to happen now. The briefest of glances at the news shows us how wrong that view is. Part of the discomfort is that there are plenty examples today of similar indiscriminate brutality and violence against innocent people. In that sense the feast acts as a mirror, compelling us to look at our own times rather than judging Herod’s.
Another important aspect of the feast is that it allows us an opportunity to allow our own sadness a place in our celebrations. Modern Christmas has become relentlessly cheerful. We are expected to be joyful, happy and positive. Yet many of us come to Christmas carrying much sadness and grief. Our Christmas celebration has to find a space for that grief as well as the joy. Today’s gospel offers that opportunity as, quoting Jeremiah, Matthew tells us:
“A voice was heard in Ramah, sobbing and loudly lamenting:
it was Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be comforted because they were no more.”
As we listen to Rachel mourning inconsolably for her lost children we can find the space to mourn. We can join our grief to hers, personal and communal, making space for all who are carrying the weight of grief this Christmastide.
Where do you need space for grieving this Christmastide?