Sunday, 28 December 2025

Our true family in Christ

 Sirach 3:2-6, 12-14

Colossians 3:12-17

Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23

 

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Today a number of themes converge.

First of all, we are still rejoicing in the Nativity of the Son of God, born of the Virgin Mary.

Then, on this First Sunday of Christmas we celebrate the feast of the Holy Family: Jesus, Mary and Joseph and their life shared together.

And, on 28th December each year, we commemorate the Holy Innocents, the title for the infants killed by King Herod as he sought to snuff out the life of the newborn King, Jesus Christ.

Into those themes our first two readings speak very beautiful, and practical, wisdom.

They reflect on what it means to live in a family.

We live in a time when the very word ‘family’ has become a contentious one.

The definition of a family seems up for grabs; its benefits are dismissed and it is generally deemed ‘problematic’.

Very sadly the family has become seen as a stifling environment to be escaped; and tragically that is the reality for some people.

When assertive individualism lets rip, with ‘me, me, me’ at the centre of everything, all on my terms, then the family is inevitably a casualty.

The Christian vision for the family is as a school for learning good and healthy relationships, the place where love of God and love of neighbour is fostered and encouraged.

So what do we see in our readings today?

In the first reading we see graciousness towards, appreciation of and respect for parents, our elders, even when their understanding is lacking.

We see interdependence, not independence.

In the second reading St Paul describes how the family should relate to one another, and stretches that vision further into the life of the Church.

And where better to learn this art of putting on ‘compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other’ than in the trust of committed close relationships?

We need that formation in virtue.

The reality is that human babies, unlike other mammals, need much longer in the domestic setting.

A calf or lamb can get up and walk within minutes of being born, and after suckling their mother for a couple of weeks can start grazing on grass.

By contrast, the human baby might crawl around from around 8-9 months and only start walking around 12-15 months.

And so too our socialisation: we need to learn and mirror behaviour, language and interactions from those around us.

That’s why the family should not be introspective, but outward looking and sociable.

The threat to the family is to make it so loose it has no means to form and nurture a child, and at the same time make it so stifling and ‘child-centred’ that it becomes an exercise in indulging parents more than forming human persons.

That is why the model of the family can be applied to the Church, as a nurturing household in which all flourish by rejoicing in the word of Christ dwelling richly in our shared life, of teaching and admonishing in wisdom, and doing ‘everything in the name of the Lord Jesus’ (Colossians 3.xx).

The Son of God himself is born into the life of a human family, and he both forms that family, and they form him.

It is not too speculative to picture Christ on the lap of his mother being taught the psalms and the stories of Adam and Eve, and Noah; of Abraham, Issac, Jacob; of Joseph, Moses and Miriam; of Samson and Deborah; of the prophets Jonah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and so on.

We can picture him too working with his guardian Joseph, the man entrusted with being an early father for him.

And there’s his extended family of cousins, including John the Baptist, who he will have shared his early life with.

We know from St Luke’s gospel that he goes on pilgrimage to Jerusalem from Nazareth, travelling with a large group of people and initially Mary and Joseph confidently and trustfully assume he is with them, before they realise that he is lost.

The family years of Jesus, apart from that incident when he is about 12 years old are silent to us.

So the last we hear of the infant Jesus is when Herod comes to destroy him.

Herod’s searching for Jesus is to destroy him.

Our searching for Jesus is surely in the spirit of the shepherds and Magi who come to receive his beauty and goodness and truth.

As he seeks to destroy Jesus collateral damage is incurred; the Holy Innocents, those children who are deemed utterly expendable.

Roman society saw children as expendable and in Hebrew society they were seen as a gift from God, and expression of fruitfulness, but they had no status.

Indeed, it is only with the advent of Christianity that children, including the unborn, are seen as being of any worth and valued for being a person made in the image of God.

That’s part of the scandal of the Incarnation, that God not only assumed our human nature, but did so as an infant child.

But the infanticidal Herod cared nothing of the children he murdered in order to kill the biggest threat to him – which was, let’s not forget, a child unable to crawl, utterly dependent on his mother, Mary, for sustenance and his guardian, Joseph, for protection.

But Herod did see something more: this infant is a threat to him. If Jesus is the ‘newborn king’ the Magi sought, then that is not great for Herod, or for any tyrant, or indeed for anyone who thinks of themselves more highly than they ought, as a little king over their family, workplace and friends, who puts themselves in the place of God.

This same pattern is seen in the Pharoah who seeks to wipe out the Hebrew boys, during which time Moses is preserved so he can lead God’s people from slavery to freedom in the Promised Land.

Egypt is a place of terror for the Israelites – Joseph will not want to have gone there because it represented the dark, paganism that the Jews rejected.

Yet that is what the angel commanded, and what righteousness, obedient, Joseph did.

It was out of the Herodian frying pan into the Egyptian fire.

Yet God knows that to redeem his people he needs to go into the darkness to bring them to the light: ‘Out of Egypt I called my son’. (Matthew 2.XX)

Jesus Christ will go into the Egypt of death, to defeat death, and bring all nations and peoples into the Promised Land of life in him.

The new life he comes to bring forms a new family in his name.

As St John tells us:

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. (John 19.25,26)

May Christ find his home in our families and lives, and may we know ourselves to be at home in his family, the Church.

Saturday, 27 December 2025

The Divine Exchange of Christmas

Isaiah 52:7-10 ‘All the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God’

Hebrews 1:1-6 ‘God has spoken to us by his Son’

John 1:1-18 ‘The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us’

 

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The birth of a child is always a time of awe and wonder.

 

Birth follows the moment of the conception of that child some nine months earlier.

 

We only celebrate Christmas Day, the nativity of Jesus Christ, because nine months ago, on 25th March, we celebrated the Annunciation to Mary, when she is overshadowed by the power of the Most High and the Holy Spirit, and the angel declares:

 

And behold, you, Mary, will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. (Luke 1.31)

 

That is the moment of incarnation, when ‘the Word became flesh’: not yet born but already recognised, in the womb, by the unborn John the Baptist (Luke 1.41).

 

During Mary’s pregnancy, as with any pregnancy, the time of gestation, Jesus was hidden in her womb but will have become more and more obvious week by week.

 

And as with any human baby Jesus was nourished by his mother as he grew.

 

We often think of the child drawing life from his mother’s body; and indeed he does: but quite remarkably the child in the womb doesn’t just receive; it gives!

 

Scientists call this ‘foetal microchimerism’ or a ‘cellular exchange’.

 

It means that just as sustenance flows from the mother to the child, so also the child’s cells flow through the umbilical cord into the mother’s body.

 

The mother and baby are mutually enriched.

 

What a mystery and awesome thing this is.

 

So, Mary giving to Jesus by feeding him through the umbilical cord, and at the same time was receiving from him; receiving cells that would remain in her for the rest of her life.

 

The time of pregnancy is not just about decorating a nursery, or buying baby clothes, but is a time of deep inner formation too for mother and child: as has our spiritual formation in the season of Advent just passed.

 

In a similar way - even before Jesus Christ, the Word of God, took human flesh - God was gestating his Word in humanity:

 

‘Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets’ opens the letter to the Hebrews, ‘but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son’ (Hebrews 1.1).

 

Throughout the scriptures the prophets see, and wisdom declares that the Lord will act on his promise of the Good News that, ‘all the ends of the shall see the salvation of our God’ (Isaiah 52.10).

 

What scientists call a ‘cellular exchange’ between mother and yet to be born child, theologians call a ‘divine exchange’ between God and humanity.

 

Yes, Mary gives Jesus his humanity at the same time as her child, Jesus Christ gives to her - and to you and me - his divinity, so that, with her, we can be ‘partakers of the divine nature’ (2 Peter 1.4) and filled with grace.

 

As Hebrews continues:

 

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. (Hebrews 1.3).

 

The exact imprint of God, Jesus Christ, dwelt in Mary’s womb, ready to be born in the manner of one of us, because he is at the same time, one of us: ’of one being with the Father…and was made man.’

 

This is all truly awesome and wonderful.

 

The ancient words of a psalm, written even before ultrasound scans were a thing, puts it like this:

 

For you yourself created my inmost parts;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I thank you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

marvellous are your works, my soul knows well. (Psalm 139.12,13)

 

Each, and every, human life – you, me, everyone - is ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’ and not only that, he or she is made in the image of God.

 

What Christmas is all about is that Jesus Christ is born with all the risk, trepidation and joy a birth entails to make those made in the image of God more deeply into God’s likeness.

 

He is not now solely carried by his mother in her womb, but can be picked up and handled by Joseph, by shepherds and by Magi, and in the deepest spiritual sense he can also be embraced by each one of us.

 

As we receive Holy Communion today that is what we are doing: we are opening ourselves to something much more than ‘foetal microchimerism’ or a ‘cellular exchange’ it is a divine and sacramental exchange going on: ‘where we dwell in him and he in us’.

 

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1,14)

 

In this wonder we are ‘birthed’ by God – and here is the nub of Christmas:

 

…to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1.12,13)

Sunday, 14 December 2025

A Cell with a View: John asks is Jesus the One Who Is to Come

 Isaiah 35.1-6a,10 ‘God himself will, come and save you.’

James 5.7-10 ‘Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand.’

Matthew 11.2-11 ‘Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?’

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Here’s a question: what sort of people live in cells?

An obvious answer is prisoners: a prison cell is where prisoners are incarcerated.

A prison cell is a place of captivity, restraint, darkness, confinement.

But before the word ‘cell’ was used of prisons it was used of the room that a monk or nun would live, eat and pray in.

That sort of cell, the monastic cell, is a place of intense relationship with God where one’s true self is found through prayer, contemplation, meditation and adoration: that cell is a place of freedom.

Part of the spiritual life is to discern when you’re trapped in a cell of captivity and darkness, and when you inhabit a cell of light and freedom in God’s presence.

This relates to our experience of the Christian life; its light and darkness.

It is absolutely normal, and to be expected, that in our lives as Christians we experience ups and downs, what the great spiritual master, St Ignatius of Loyola, called times of consolation and desolation.

Sometimes God feels very near, prayer flows, and at other times God feels distant, prayer is arid or a struggle.

This isn’t to be confused with feeling good or feeling bad.

Spiritual desolation, distance from God, can be experienced when all is going well in life, sometimes more so: things are great, going swimmingly, and I forget God and distant from Him.

So the ‘ups’ of life can be spiritually desolate.

Equally it can be in times of testing, and even the depths of despair, that we are particularly near to the God who loves and sustains us.

Ironically, the ‘downs’ of life can be spiritually consoling.

In times of desolation, says Ignatius, recall the warmth, sweetness and intensity of God’s presence to draw you back to Him.

In times of consolation, says Ignatius, to recall how dry, sad and unfulfilled we are when we are from God.

So, what’s all that got to do with today’s readings and our Advent journey?

John sends emissaries from his prison cell.

He has been arrested by Herod and cast in jail for speaking the truth and rebuking vice.

Even locked away in prison word of Jesus, the one he has lived for and proclaimed, breaks into his cell.

It’s from that cell of darkness John sends his own disciples to ask Jesus, if he is the One Who Is to Come.

Is it a moment when John was dispirited, in desolation?

Has he got it all wrong? Jesus, are you really the one I have said you are?

Was it a moment when he felt abandoned?

Or was it a moment when he abandoned himself more fully to Jesus Christ?

The funny thing with the word ‘abandon’ is that when we are abandoned by someone that is entirely negative; when we abandon ourselves to something or someone, it is a beautiful and good thing.

John’s whole life is centred on God; his life was one of abandonment to the Divine Will.

He went out into the wilderness to proclaim the One Who Is to Come, that is the Messiah, the Christ, and what his disciples come back to tell him is the evidence for John to assess for himself.

Is he the One Who Is to Come?

Here’s Jesus’ answer again:

The blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. (Matthew 2.5)

This echoes the promises of the Beatitudes and the prophecy of Isaiah, and it’s not just about the words, or good teaching, but what is put into action: the mighty acts of God, who brings life to the world, just like a crocus blossoming in the desert.

Go and tell that to John, what you hear and see.

John had proclaimed his message of turning to God and preparing for the One Who is to Come out in the physical wilderness of Judea and now Christ comes, bringing life and hope to the world and to the wilderness of human hearts.

Is he the One Who Is to Come?

Oh yes!

John’s vindication has come.

Yes, I am the One Who Is. I am the One Who Is to Come.

What consolation!

John was indeed the messenger who goes before the face of the Lord: he wasn’t wrong to say of Jesus, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God’ (John 1.29)

John knows who Jesus is; and Jesus knows who John is.

Through the one Who Is to Come – Jesus Christ - the cell of darkness is transformed into a cell of light and freedom through faith in him.

As Isaiah also prophesies:

“I am the Lord; I have called you in righteousness;

    I will take you by the hand and keep you;

I will give you as a covenant for the people,

    a light for the nations,

     to open the eyes that are blind,

to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,

    from the prison those who sit in darkness. (Isaiah 42.6,7)

In this Advent season, as we rejoice in the Lord and prepare our hearts, minds and bodies to receive him, may we know the Lord who comes to release us, and all the world, from the cell of darkness into the radiancy of his light.