The star of Bethlehem does not shine in the Christmas story we heard tonight. The story of that star is told in the Gospel of Matthew, and we have just listened to the Gospel of Luke.
But we can be sure that the chorus of angels lit up the night sky, bringing light to the darkness as they heralded the birth of Christ.
The angelic host was announcing the news that the prophetic word of Isaiah—what we just heard in our first reading—had been fulfilled!
In the darkness of the night, a great light shone. A light that the darkness cannot overpower, as St. John tells us in his Gospel.
A joyful light. A glorious light.
I do not want to dim the brightness of this holy night in any way. Like you, I rejoice that a child has been born for us. And yet, I want to invite you into a difficult experience that my family and I are facing this Christmas.
A month ago, my younger brother Stephen suffered a major stroke. From the moment we got the news the doctors did not downplay how severe it was.
However, they gave us hope. And we have held on to that hope during these anxious days.
But there was something the doctors did not give us: promises. The hope they offered came without promises for the future. And this, of course, is as it should be, since recovery from stroke is a long and uncertain process. Doctors do well to be encouraging, but would be wrong to make promises.
What a contrast with God’s word spoken to us at Christmas!
Like the doctors, the scriptures give us hope. But unlike the doctors, God makes promises. Christian hope is backed by promises. God will accomplish His plan in us, unobstructed by illness, human weakness, and even sin.
Christian hope promises light in any darkness. No matter what we face, we are promised light and peace, hope and joy. And most of all, a Saviour.
In various forms, the word promise appears more than 100 times in the Bible. As for the number of God’s promises, you can have some fun trying to find that on the internet. Some say a thousand, others many more than that. It depends on your definition. A Canadian teacher, after reading the Bible twenty-seven times, came up with the figure 8,810, most of them made by God to mankind.
The exact number is much less important than God’s faithfulness. When King Solomon dedicated the temple of Jerusalem, he praised God by saying, “not one of the promises he made through the servant Moses has failed.” (1 Kings 8:56 REB)
If King Solomon could say that almost a thousand years before the first Christmas, think about what God has promised us in his Son.
Isaiah’s prophetic words, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light,” were fulfilled that first Christmas night, but the Bible continues to promise us the joy, the peace, and the liberation we heard about in the first reading.
Because today we are the people who live in a land of deep darkness, a land overshadowed by fear and worry. The pandemic threatens us all, and some of us live with illness, suffering, and sorrow.
But the light is shining through all of that if we will open our eyes to see.
The New Testament brings us God’s promises no less than the Old. The Letter to the Hebrews tells us that the new covenant has even better promises than the first.
In his second letter, Saint Peter speaks of God’s “precious and very great promises” that free us from corruption and allow us to share in the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). Saint Paul speaks of something very precious indeed when he writes “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).
Beautiful phrases, but let’s bring them down to earth – or up to heaven, as you prefer. The apostle John makes it clear: “this is what he has promised us, eternal life” (1 John 2:25).
The problem is that the promise of eternal life is both far off and unimaginable. It’s hard to get excited about a promise that won’t be fulfilled in your lifetime!
Which is why it’s so important at Christmas to see the whole picture. Which is why our parish invites you to Alpha, so you can not only hear what God offers but experience it, right now.
When you come to Alpha, you will meet people, on the videos and in your small group, who have walked out of darkness and into light. You will see the joy of Christian faith and community.
And as Saint Paul tells Titus in our second reading, you may come to understand how God’s gifts are not rewards for good behaviour. You can have an actual experience of the Holy Spirit, one of the central promises Jesus makes to his disciples.
Alpha can help you live life with the wonder of the shepherds living in the fields of Bethlehem and can challenge you to imitate their eagerness to figure out just what God has done.
We can put our hope in modern science and medicine. We can hope for human progress. After all, there’s nothing wrong with positive thinking. But what happens when we hit a wall? Then natural hope, sometimes called optimism, can fail us.
But supernatural hope is a virtue, not an attitude. It’s something you can hold on to in good times and in bad – and especially in bad. It does not depend on our emotions or circumstances.
As the Letter to the Hebrews says, we can hold fast to our hope without wavering, “for he who has promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23).
God was faithful to the Chosen People in exile and exodus; he kept his promises. He rewarded Abraham, our father in faith who, when hope seemed hopeless, God made the “father of many nations.” Now He promises us, in Christ, even more.
The beatitudes proclaimed by Jesus – blessings promised to the poor in spirit, those who mourn, those who suffer – do not exempt his disciples from trials. But through all those trials, “God keeps us in the hope ‘that does not disappoint,’” a hope that is “a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul.” (Hebrews 6:19)
How does he do this?
In part by the gift of a peace the world cannot give (John 14:27). It was not optimism that has seen us through the difficult days after my brother’s stroke but God’s gift of peace, because he keeps His promises.
In part by spiritual gifts like fortitude and perseverance, which make it possible to follow the exhortation Saint Paul gives in a verse that’s easy to remember, Romans 12:12: “Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.”
In part by the virtue of faith which makes it possible to trust my favourite verse from St. Paul, Romans 8:28: “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God.”
The same God whose infinite creativity conceived a plan to save the world through the birth of his only Son in poverty, in a manger, in an occupied territory, can bring light even to the deepest darkness.
This is the thirty-fifth time I have preached at Christmas Mass. It is perhaps the first time I have preached from such intense personal experience, an experience of God’s promise and power to fill this day—for me, my family, and for you—with the light that the darkness cannot overpower (cf. John 1: 5).
I want to share with you each of you this same hope-filled invitation, whether your Christmas dawns brightly or, like mine, has shadows. The discipleship path, to which our parish invites you through Alpha and other experiences of Christian community, is walked in both joy and sorrow.
It is a safe road through darkness—present, past, and future—leading ultimately to the brightest of all destinations, "the hope of eternal life" (Titus 1:2, 3:7).
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