Midnight Mass 24 December 2003  St Peter's

Father Mark Bonney
Christmas shopping will have been a significant preoccupation for most of us over the past few weeks, and we arrive here this evening with a sigh of relief perhaps that it's over for another Christmas at least. The supermarket with its myriad of choices is a symbol of modern living - we have a vast array of choice about everything from own brand baked beans to the most superior kinds of bread - and in the world at large spirituality has become a consumer industry as well- from Christian retreats to tarot card reading and crystals. And it really is an industry - a recent survey found that British women are spending some £670m a year on alternative and spiritualist therapies.

I was interested to read that Cosmopolitan has appointed its first spirituality editor who will begin a new column in February - as well as telling us how we can eat and be happy without putting on weight this Christmas Cosmopolitan has identified a number of spirituality seekers amongst its readership - these are people who reject formal religion in favour of a supermarket, pick-and-mix approach. One north Londoner, Alice describes herself as a Muslim and a Christian and dabbles in a bit of tarot card reading as well. She apparently takes the bits and pieces that make her happy and give her peace of mind and rejects the rest. 

After all - many would say - all religions are the same anyway. Our celebrations tonight claim, in the politest way, that that is not the case. 

We live in a very troubling world - the conviction of Ian Huntley and the Soham case makes our hearts bleed; the capture of Saddam Hussein has certainly confined a monster to prison, but as many questions as ever remain about the Iraq war and terrorism remains as feared as ever; such horrors and international intrigue make the Church of England's internal conflicts over gay people seem somewhat insignificant - though if you're an oppressed and excluded gay person the picture may look rather different.

It's hardly surprising that many spiritualities offer some escape from all this mess - a calming peace of mind that makes us feel that all is well. 

But Christianity isn't such a spirituality - it's a religion with a very definite spirituality (though I would admit that beurocracy and religion often smother the spirituality) - the heart of Christian spirituality is about a radical involvement with the all this mess and hurt and pain. We can feel very insignificant before the enormity of the world and its struggles - but small things make big differences.

The one whose birth we celebrate was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another village where he worked in a carpenter's shop. Then for three years he was an itinerant preacher. He never wrote a book. He never held high office. He never had a family or owned a home. He never travelled two hundred miles from where he was born. He did none of the things we associate with greatness. He had no credentials but himself. He was only 33 when the tide of public opinion went against him. His friends ran away, He was turned over to his enemies, given a mock trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. When he was dying his executioners gambled for his clothing, the only property he had on earth. When he was dead, he was buried in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend. 

Over 2000 years have come and gone- we number our years after him - all the armies that ever marched or navies that ever sailed, all the kings that reigned or parliaments that sat - none have affected the lives of people on this earth more than this one solitary life. 

And that is because of the claim made at the end of the Gospel reading that we just heard - that beyond our finitude is the infinitude of God who embraces - of God who comes to us in Jesus - "The Word became Flesh and dwelt among us".

And it's this message - that the Word became Flesh and dwelt among us that means that marks Christianity off as different - as unique, in the supermarket of spiritualities. When we see the mess of life as a result of murder and terrorism - when we see good people traumatised because of persecution and bigotry we are tempted to cry out "Where is God?" The unique answer that the Christian faith gives to that is summed up in those words - "the word became flesh and dwelt among us" - or in the three words "God with us" which is the meaning of the word Emmanuel. Not absent - not to be found by escaping into a meditative trance, but with us, alongside us in the midst of suffering as well as laughter and joy.

The big question over the supermarket of spiritualities is are they all true? Some would say they are - or at least whichever one suits is fine and you get on and enjoy it. But without wishing to be triumphalist in any way - nor denying that other ways have windows into the divine - today's celebration speaks of something utterly unique. 

"And is it true?" asks Sir John Betjeman in a well-known poem And is it true this most tremendous tale of all - And is it true…? 

We can only discover if it's true by living it - by entering the messes of life with eyes and hearts open to meeting "God with us." Take away the tinsel and the trappings and we're left with a tiny child in a dirty stable - in the middle of mess 

"And if it's true" we're invited to make a choice - 
- to say 'oh how nice' and to move to the next item on the spirituality shelf- or to enter more deeply into the words with which Betjeman ends his poem:

    For if it is
    No love that in a family dwells
    No carolling frosty air
    Nor the steeple-shaking bells
    can with this simple truth compare
    That God was man in Palestine
    And lives today in bread and wine.

Here at this Mass he lives today in bread and wine.
O come let us adore him we will sing later - may the truth of God with us enable us all to do that with joyful hearts and may we go out and live our lives to the one who became man and dwelt among us - the one and only living God Father Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.