IT IS dark, cold January now. Soon it will be “blue Monday”: the day when people feel most “down”. In England, at least, many will already have evicted their Christmas trees; but no modern custom can alter the fact that it is still Christmas, the season of peace and goodwill, when the light shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it. And Christ has taken our nature upon himself for ever: it is not a temporary arrangement. This is a season of indestructible joy which never, in that sense, ends.
Of course, the world as we see it is far from proclaiming or appearing to endorse that message. Wars rage, and innocents are still slaughtered. As one wise man, the late Jimmy Carter, put it, “War may sometimes be a necessary evil. But no matter how necessary, it is always an evil, never a good. We will not learn how to live together in peace by killing each other’s children. The bond of our common humanity is stronger than the divisiveness of our fears and prejudices.”
The public appearance of the Church of England is also at the moment depressing. Acrimony is not a new feature of its life; but this Christmas has taught us the lesson that goodwill is a divine gift, not an indispensable attribute of the faithful. It wears thin under strain, especially the strain of sin. Evil deeds have evil consequences; in the disordered relations that result, they do not leave unmarked even those who think that they have been only doing their best. Anger gets a better press than it used to in the days when James 1.20 was accepted without question. Be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath, teaches the apostle; “for the wrath of man worketh not the will of God.” These days, reflection on anger is often nuanced by taking into account the experience of victims. They must be allowed to feel what they feel; and others must learn lessons. It is often pointed out that Christ, who later offered himself as a passive victim, took his whip of cords to expel the moneychangers. But this is a Gospel story in which all need to be careful about fantasising that they are in his place.
The Epiphany will be upon us next week. The wise men come to worship the newborn king, Jesus. It only is in the perspective of worship that all find their proper place. All are creatures of the Creator; all have fallen short. The distance between creature and Creator is so great that, though it is uncomfortable to be reminded of it, any difference in degree in individuals’ lack of holiness must look far less from God’s perspective than ours. Ecclesiastical rank counts for nothing; and humility is in order. With a growth in humility inevitably comes a growth in charity and forbearance. If that is not true, then any kind of Church may as well shut up shop. Peace begins at home, at the altar.
The New Year is a new start not because Anno Domini ticks over, but because of the mystery of faith which we are celebrating as the year turns. There is always hope for those who come to worship God Incarnate — even if it turns out that some of them may need to return by a different way.