Some of you may think that the third Sunday in Advent is a bit early to begin celebrating, and our gospel reading was made of sterner stuff than that, but when St Paul invites us to rejoice because the Lord is near, I cannot ignore his injunction, or pretend to prefer the rough hair shirt of our patron saint. It is still Advent, our season of preparation, so I’m not proposing to start dancing in the aisles just yet, but it is not too soon to give some thought to clearing a space in our hearts and minds for the joy and the peace which we wish one another at Christmas. Rejoice the Lord is near.
With only eight days to go, most of us are uncomfortably aware of just how much there is still to be done. Cards to be sent, presents to be bought and wrapped, decorations to be hung, the feast itself to be prepared, space to be made for visitors, not to mention all the things I said I’d do before Christmas. Peace? Joy? Maybe, when we get there, if we’re not worn to a frazzle by then. We are all so busy we can hardly draw breath, and that’s not intended as some sort of other-worldly criticism if our busy-ness has the object of giving as much pleasure as possible to our family and friends, that has to be good even if it does get a bit frenetic. When we leave here this morning, we will all plunge right back into it, but I hope we may do so refreshed, because here we have the chance to pause, to be still for long enough to light in the shelter of our hearts the flickering candles of peace and joy that will truly illuminate our Christmas celebrations.
We long for peace in so many different ways. For our brothers and sisters in more troubled parts of the world, peace may be when for a while they are spared the roar of planes and rockets, the crump of exploding bombs, the rumble of tanks in the street, the chatter of small arms fire, the ever-present fear of bad news about those they love. For us, peace may be when the baby finally goes to sleep, or when the neighbours turn off the heavy thumping beat of the loud music in the house or flat next door. Particularly at this time of year, it may be when we shut the door on our place of work, and put all that stuff on hold, at least until the New Year, or it may be when all the festive preparations are complete.
We may long for that sort of peace. We may pray for that sort of peace. But the peace which is ours because as Paul says the Lord is near does not depend on the cessation of noise or conflict or the pressures of a busy life. Paul links peace with prayer. Don’t worry about anything, he says. Take your concerns to God in prayers both of supplication and of thanksgiving (prayers that say please, and prayers that say thank you), and the peace of God will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. How so? Can it possibly be as simple as that? Yes it can, you know it can, because God, who loves us as the best of parents love their children, is always eager to help, but waits to be asked, waits for us to put our needs into words. He delights to share in our joys. When it comes to asking for things, putting our requests into words may sometimes be enough to make them look pretty silly or selfish, so that we don’t ask any more. On other occasions, we may be helped to see what we can do to help ourselves or others. And sometimes there may be nothing practical that can be done to ease our pain. When our hearts are too full for words, he comforts us as we would comfort a sobbing child. But always, and perhaps especially in those circumstances, prayer opens our hearts to receive the peace that comes from knowing that we have been heard by one who loves us.
There is I believe a deeper reason why we find in prayer the peace which surpasses all understanding. When we pray in the spirit of Jesus to God our Father we are drawn into that relationship of love which has already broken down and overcome the barriers of sin and guilt that otherwise separate us from one another and from the love of God reaching out in mercy and compassion to embrace us. It is the breaking down of those barriers by the Lord who is near that allows, in and through his Spirit, not merely to tap into that peace which is rooted in the security of a love freely given and freely received, but to be part of it. I don’t know whether that is what is meant by the shoals of Christmas cards that wish us peace, but I do know that it is as we are immersed in that healing and reconciling love that we find the peace which surpasses understanding.
It was that message of peace that the angels described as tidings of great joy. They knew, I suppose, that God in his wisdom had found the one way by which true peace could be restored to the world that he had made. And what an astonishing piece of news it is that the all-powerful God of heaven and earth should make himself as utterly powerless, dependent and vulnerable as a new-born baby. In order to heal and restore our human condition, he had to enter fully into it. In Mary and Joseph God had found a family who could play their part in the great drama that was to unfold. The immediate circumstances were typically stressful and unpropitious, for that is the nature of the world he came to save, but nothing could suppress the deep-seated joy that the angels shared with the shepherds. They could see the risks, but it would not be in their angelic nature to worry about all the things that could go wrong the angels know that nothing can stand in the way of the love of God. They were singing for joy because now at last the time had come for God to act. It was still a secret, but they knew. And we can share their joy, because we now know, as they did, that in the birth of Jesus, that life was beginning a life both human and divine – that would not only put history back on track, but would rescue each one of us from the things that destroy our peace by separating us from one another and from God.
The joy that burst from the angels is the pattern of all true joy, the joy of love revealed, the joy of a happy secret that can now be shared, the joy of giving something precious. Such joy may find expression in the best of parties I hope it will be found in yours. But it is also found more surely – in the hearts of those who have had the courage to believe, as Mary did, the good news about God, and to shelter the flame of that belief in their hearts. You shall call his name Jesus, she was told, for he shall save his people from their sins. In the cheerful bustle of our family parties, or indeed in the sadness of those who will be more conscious of the empty places around the table, it may be difficult to be fully aware of the joy that has come into the world. But that is why we should pause now to imagine that a little candle of true peace and true joy has been lit in our hearts to-day as we prepare to celebrate in the birth of Jesus the coming into the world of that light which has never been quenched by any darkness. The Lord is near.