I've been having to think about Christmas harder than usual this year, for as well as our own festivities, there's also a Muslim-Christian dialogue at the beginning of December (on Sunday 7th December at 2pm at the Broomhall Centre, in case you're interested) on the subject of Festivals: what are our Christian festivals, and what do they mean to us? So this year I'm asking myself what Christmas may look like from the outside, from the perspective of another faith community which worships the same God as Christians, but understands its relationship with God very differently from the way we do. By December Muslims in Sheffield, like everyone else, won't be able to ignore the fact that Christmas is on its way. The adverts, the lights, the decorations will all clue them in to the season. But I wonder how clear it may be to someone looking in from outside that this is a spiritual occasion as well as a boost to our national economic life. For seen from the outside, what is Christmas? A brief respite from work? A time for family and friends to meet and enjoy - or endure - one another's company? A stressful time in which shopping lists mount up and bank balances go down? A time of feasting and conspicuous consumption by those who can, and of depression and isolation for those who cannot? An excuse for children to be overindulged, and for adults to remember childhood through rose-tinted glasses?
I hope I hear you exclaiming indignantly: No! Christmas may look like that from the outside, though I think you're being too cynical, but that's not at all what it means to me. So let's look a little deeper. Though we live through all the opportunities and problems that the season brings to everyone else, we at St Andrew's also have our own ‘count down to Christmas' checklists of what the festival means to us: the Caledonian service; the candles on the Advent wreath, lit one by one; the hymns of Advent and the well-loved Christmas carols; the Churches Together Advent service; the Nativity service with our children and finally our joyful service on Christmas Day. Yet these are still on the surface of Christmas. A Muslim might comment: Every religion has its rituals expressed in word and music and silence. What is special about yours?
Well, you'll know the answer to that already. The heart of our celebration is the birth of Jesus: son of God and son of Mary, God with us, choosing to pitch the divine tent in the middle of the human muddle. That is the deepest meaning of Christmas, without which the rest makes no sense at all. Very well, a Muslim might say: if that's what you believe - however much I may disagree with you about how you understand God and Jesus - how does what you do at Christmas tie in with your belief?
That is our challenge. When every year we remember in worship the stories of Christ's coming, does that affect our attitude towards unmarried mothers, vulnerable children, those who have no home, refugees? When we, like the rest of Sheffield, go through Christmas rituals of present-giving and family celebrations, do we reach out to people without family or friends, or those for whom Christmas may hold painful memories? Does our celebration of the coming of the God of love among us lead to an increase in love, forgiveness and peace? I pray this may be so. For then we will truly have celebrated one of the most important festivals of the Christian year.