As we draw nearer to the Christmas festival, the Advent readings take us to the brink of the Incarnation. The whole series of Old Testament prophecies, culminating in John the Baptist and his message, reaches its fulfilment in the Christ event.
John the Baptist was the one who was born to be the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘make straight the way of the Lord.’ That was what he did for God. He spent his life proclaiming the nearness of God.
I suppose it would be true to say that all of us here in church want to do things for God: we want to please God; we want to help God's kingdom to come; we want to do good.
That all seems admirable. But if we want to meet God we shouldn't be starting from here. It does not work that way. We do not announce what we are going to do for God but rather God takes the initiative, and chooses what should be done. All too often we might get what we think is a brilliant idea of what we can do for God, and rush out to try to achieve it. King David, in the Old Testament, gives us an example of this. David, quite admirably, as the prophet Nathan thought, wanted to build a house for God. But God told Nathan that it was God who was going to build a house - meaning a family and a dynasty - for David.
As I said last week our ideas about God are so often turned on their heads when we come into contact with the living and true God. If we think we are doing God a favour by coming to church, we need to learn that it is God who is doing us a favour by allowing us to come to his house.
Any encounter with the living God is disturbing, because God does not come to plump up the pillows behind our head and make us more comfortable where we are. God comes to invite, to challenge, to show us more love and truth than we thought we could cope with.
There is a way in which we can think that God is terrifying, not because we are wicked sinners and he is a fierce judge, but simply because he is infinite and has purposes for us which are beyond anything we can imagine.
Some people use religion as a way of limiting God and keeping themselves comfortable. The true and living God is not a comfortable cushion, but a burning fire, a deep abyss, and the way to him is a narrow bridge over the deep. Whoever he meets, he frightens by the intensity of his beauty. But God doesn't frighten us the way a bully does, to make us cringe. He comes with the message: “Do not be afraid”. God is on your side. You have a destiny to fulfil.
How is it possible for us to fulfil that destiny? The simple answer is that we need to get to know our God. We need to meet with him to share our concerns – what we call our prayers. We need to meet with him in order to begin to discern what he intends for us to do with our lives. We need to meet with him in order to be fed with the bread of heaven in the Sacrament of the Altar.
Last Sunday Pope Benedict XVI said in his sermon, “May the Mass be the focus of your Sunday, which must be rediscovered and lived as the day of the Lord and of the community, a day on which to praise and celebrate the one who was born for us, who died and rose again for our salvation, and who asks us to live together joyfully, to be a community open and ready to welcome anyone who is alone and in difficulty. Do not lose your understanding of the significance of Sundays, and remain faithful to your appointment with the Eucharist. Early Christians were ready to give their lives for this.”
The Pope continued, “I know that people have many commitments, but getting ready for Christmas does not only mean shopping and making preparations, it means being in contact with the Lord, going out to meet him. I feel it is important not to forget this dimension. ... This is not an additional burden, but the power that enables us to do all we need to do. I hope you maintain permanent contact with Jesus, that his joy and strength might help you to live in this world.”
We are helped to maintain that permanent contact as we come to Mass to receive the bread of heaven. We are one week away from the day on which we give thanks that Jesus was born in Bethlehem so that he could be that narrow bridge over the deep, of which I spoke earlier.
Bethlehem is the city of David, the same David who wanted to build a house for God; the same David who was the ancestor of the one whose birth we are to celebrate next Sunday. It is appropriate that Jesus was born in Bethlehem because it is the city whose name means ‘The House of Bread’. Indeed, how appropriate that our Bread of Heaven, who is to be born anew in our hearts next Sunday, should be born there. So next Sunday the Word is to be born into the world for us to feast on him.
And we are being reminded today that we do that, not only when we receive his Body and Blood in Holy Communion, but also when we hear about or read about him in the Gospels -- from the beginnings of his story to its climax and end in his death and resurrection.
In Scripture, in Micah 5:2, the place of the birth of Jesus is described as “O Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah”. How appropriate -- or rather how typical of the great Messiah, who is Lord of Lords and Kings of Kings, to choose the least, that most little of the clans of Judah.
Bethlehem, which is the city of David the shepherd boy, was chosen for the birth of Jesus rather than Jerusalem, which is the city of David the king. How typical of our God to choose that country village in which to be born!
And where in Bethlehem? Not in a decent house, but in a stable, a cattle shed, most likely a shack built against the wall of the inn. He was laid by his Mother in a manger, out of which the cattle took their food, and out of which we take the Bread of Life.
But that is next Sunday’s story, not today's.
May God bless you in your trying to maintain your permanent contact with Jesus.
