'I pray that hope will not elude you this Christmas'

Last Sunday night, after lots of meticulous planning, we held our annual Carol Service at All Saints’ Church. It’d been a rough 24 hours in the country, and the news has surpassed itself in being worse than any of us had ever hoped.

But for 52 minutes, we heard the familiar Carol Service bible readings, and listened to carols and anthems sung only by our socially distanced choir, and suddenly something began to shift.

The words used at Carol Services are fondly treasured: “the people that sat in darkness have seen a great light” these are words that takes us back to a people who hoped for a Christmas they couldn’t celebrate yet, but who took comfort that even while they lived in dark times it would make it easier to discern light when it came.

The words go on to tell us of the Christmas story, of the angelic visit to the Mary who fearfully greets her guest who tells her “Do not be afraid… for you have found favour with God”. This favour is to be made real for her in the birth of her son, whom she must name Jesus (a name which means ‘God will save’) and who will be unique among the holy ones recounted in scripture.

There are lofty words in the Angel Gabriel’s greeting and Mary’s immediate response is that she doesn’t know what all this means. He reassures her that both the Spirit of God and the practical support of her cousins (themselves living with an unexpected pregnancy) will be there for her, giving her enough confidence to respond, “let what you have said be done to me.”

Through music and words, through embracing the faith that has always undergirded our Christmas celebrations, there’s huge potential to rediscover the grounds for our hope. So much that we had anticipated this Christmas has been undone and undermined by a swirling darkness that has, in the last days, become more unpredictable.

Our interconnectedness, and the travel and trade lines that we rely so heavily on at Christmas, has made a well-planned, well-ordered society feel very vulnerable. But what will not change this Christmas is the confidence Christians will place in God who will not let us down, and whose saving love in Christ cannot be disrupted.

When we emerged from the service, we were some of us elated and joyful, and some wept uncontrollably – Christian hope isn’t an inoculation against the pressures of the time, but hope for time to come. What is possible, even if our sense of anticipation is shattered, is to deepen and discover the grounds for our hope.

That hope will be at the centre of our services at Christmas itself (11.30pm on Christmas Eve, and 8am and 10.30am on Christmas Day, I hear you ask!), for when we sit in darkness the only response is to light our lamps and sing. I pray than in whatever way you find it, that hope will not elude you this Christmas, and that it provides the ground for comfort and joy.