Reflection for Christmas Eve Midnight Communion
Service,
Bloomsbury Central Baptist Church, 2015.
Sometimes, and
I recognise that this may be an occupational hazard,
I find myself pondering the nature
of God.
And late at
night, as the world turns beneath
and the stars wheel
above,
the veil between my frail
understanding
and the infinite beyond
can sometimes begin to lift,
and
the ineffable other can seem intangibly close.
And so we
arrive at my thought for tonight,
as the day of Christ's coming dawns
imperceptibly upon us.
And my
thought, this night, is this:
God is the distilled essence of love made absolute.
We use many
ways to describe God,
many ways to try and put human
finite words
around the infinite other,
with the Bible
itself offering us many options,
and Christian history, tradition,
and theology
adding further to our list…
God is father,
God is mother, God is Spirit,
God is justice, righteousness, and
peace.
God is our
rock and our redeemer,
God is our ever present help in
times of trouble.
God is… God
is… God is…
But tonight,
as we await the coming of God into the world:
God is love.
Not love as we
might ordinarily understand it,
not love as between two people,
but the distilled essence of love;
love that is strong enough to
transcend time,
love that is tender enough to
surpass mortality.
God is love.
But this is no
unearthly abstraction of love,
this isn’t just some ethereal force
of love
that permeates the fabric of the
universe
and with which we can intertwine our
lives.
This is love
made flesh,
this is love made absolute.
In the baby of
Christmas morning
we meet the God who is all love
becoming real in human time and
earthly place.
In the baby
Jesus we meet the God
who is the distilled essence of
love, made absolute.
This is where
the otherworldly meets the world,
this is where blood and water and
flesh
become infinitely more than the sum
of their parts.
In that one
moment of the birth of the baby to Mary,
each moment, of each human life,
throughout all of human history
is transformed by love;
because this birth is the absolute
moment.
If it happens
once, it happens eternally.
If God is made flesh in Jesus
Christ,
then God is made flesh.
And so we
gather to greet the Christ-child,
and we gather to share bread, and
wine;
we gather to remember
broken bodies, and shed blood;
and we gather to bring our own frail
bodies
into the presence of the
divine.
Our bodies
break, they grow old, they fail us and betray us.
And yet God becomes flesh.
In Christ, the
God of love is made absolute,
and the distilled essence of love
takes each moment, of each frail
human life,
from cradle to grave,
and encompasses it in love that
never fails,
love that never passes,
love that never fades.
So as we come
to meet the newborn Christ,
we bring our own frailty to the
manger,
as we bring our own bodies to the
communion table.
And as we
share bread and wine, we meet with Christ,
and we are made whole in love.
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