Much of the following was free written when getting distracted from writing something else. I've added a few parts. I'm not a preacher any more. And this is far from being a sermon. I wonder how I'd preach now. Maybe I should choose gospel texts and write sermons interpreting them according to what I believe now rather than to the faith I once received. It might be an enjoyable challenge. Post-theistic, post-literalistic preaching. I wouldn't be the first to do it.
You can take the Christianity out of the preacher but the preacher remains! And sometimes the preacher may discover that Jesus wasn't any kind of Christian either. Sometimes.
I've placed a few photos into all these words. They're of Christmases from my 1970s childhood. Here's the first.
Happy Christmas to you all.
Christmas is a time when Christians across the world, on December 25th or January 6th, celebrate the birth of Jesus who is called the Christ. Hymns of praise are sung about the birth of this child, born in difficult circumstances 2000 years ago. We all know the story. Actually, strike that sentence. It's a sad fact that many people grow up today not knowing the story. And that is a sadness. It truly is. Not because they should all be good little Christian boys and girls. But because it's a powerful story with much to teach us and because it's a part of the heritage and history of much of the world including the UK. Understanding our history and the forces and influences that have shaped our civilisation and culture is impossible without understanding the role the story of Jesus has played in getting us from there to here, and admittedly sometimes how it has been used to stand in the way of progress.
So this is Christmas. The birth of Jesus. Believed by some to be the saviour of the world. Believed by some to be the only real hope for our future as individuals and as a species. I used to believe that too. I have on this computer the notes I read from when I led what I think was my first church service at Trinity Baptist Church in Fleetwood, Lancashire. It was the Christmas service in 2000 and it took the form of a set of carols with readings and a short talk between each of them. It was kind of a festival of five lessons and carols with chunks of solidly evangelical and conservative preaching.
I said then that approaching God was "only
possible because the eternal Son became flesh, being born in
Bethlehem, growing as a man living among people." I spoke of light and said that "Jesus is light - he is the true light to a world in
darkness. And he is the only true light. Nothing, and no one can bring light to the world unless
Christ is present." Reading through my notes I spot a few of the things that led me to becoming a pretty damn good preacher.
At the time I found much comfort in those words and thought nothing strange about the exclusivity of the way I interpreted the words I found in the Bible. My doctrine and my God provided me with hope and meaning and something solid to walk upon. I thought I was being like the wise man Jesus is said to have talked of who built his house upon a rock.
Things have changed. I have changed. Posts in this blog have followed the process of change and I expect I will continue to post about changes.
One thing that hasn't changed is the calendar. On December 25th the Western church celebrates Christmas with those hymns and prayers and with great joy. On December 25th and the Western secular world celebrates Christmas with food, family and presents and the pressure to make everything perfect and lay on a good show. Not for any deep reason. Just because it's what people do. People look at you with shock and disbelief if you don't do the same. As if you are monstrous in some way or at least completely enigmatic.
I know the majority of people in this country don't
celebrate the birth of Jesus anymore. That's fine. Personally I do believe, even still, that Jesus is
at the centre of what Christmas is about.
Giving presents isn't a bad thing. At Christmas the story
celebrates the giving of a saviour to the world. Giving
presents is a sign of love. Sometimes a sign of duty too - but
ideally of love. People have this thing now about
"reciprocity". If someone gives you a gift you have
to give them a gift. Of equal value. Or someone somewhere
will grumble. The Christmas story tells us that reciprocity is
impossible and not desired. Jesus was given and gave himself.
And no gift we could ever return to him would match that gift.
Christmas isn't about reciprocity. It's about love. It's
about hope and it's about poor shepherds who celebrated fully even
though they had nothing material to give.
Feasting isn't a bad thing. Christmas is, liturgically
speaking, one of the great feasts. But a wise man said that
feasting is meaningless unless there is fasting. Without the
meaning behind the feasts of Christmas and Easter and without the
preparation times of Advent and Lent what is the feast of Christmas?
It's just an excuse for a bit of gluttony and a reason for people
across the country to swear when they stand on a set of scales again
after New Year.
Yes. Presents and feasting can be very good things.
But without the meaning behind them they have lost much of what made
them special. Sharing time with family and friends is a good
thing too. The Christmas without Christ still has much that is
good and I hope everyone reading this - if they celebrate Christmas
at all - will find some enjoyment in it. I know that for some
that's very difficult. Because the pressures and expectations
of family can hurt. Because a lack of friendship can mean
Christmas is the loneliest time of the year. Because of
everything that people think Christmas SHOULD be.
Last December I was talking with a woman who said she works three
jobs so that her family can have a good Christmas and have everything
they want from it. Three jobs. She hardly sees her family
in the year because of the three jobs. She hardly has time to
rest. All so that Christmas can be big. Maybe her
children would settle for a few less presents if they actually got to
spend time with their mother throughout the year. Maybe.
Is it just me or do others find that kind of lifestyle completely
crazy?
Without Christ at the centre of Christmas things can go wrong like
that. They don't have to of course. But they can.
Christ was born in humility. Christmas points to celebration,
to loving all people, to acceptance, to inclusiveness, even to having
a wonderful feast. But it doesn't point to excess, greed,
capitalism or consumerism.
I read a post the other day about the meaning of Christmas and the
"war on Christmas." Some Christians of a particular
variety will tell you that a war is being waged on Christmas as
Christ is removed from it. They will point to the evil atheists
and the fallen secular society and rail against the secular
Christmas. This article points to a much greater war on
Christmas - one being fought by many of those same Christians.
It's food for thought whether or not you believe the story.
Here it is.
At the very least you'll learn why the British banned the reciting of
Mary's song of praise we call the Magnificat, the song she sang after
being told she would bear a son. And you'll learn why that song
is such a call to justice and social action. It's food for
thought for me at least and I hope that somehow 2017 will see me
follow that call better.
As for me, this Christmas is different. I converted to
Christianity in 1990 and have been a regular church goer ever since.
I've been a part of lots of different churches and denominations in
the places that I've lived and Christ was very definitely the centre
of my life. Or possibly not. Maybe church was, doctrine
was and forms of prayer were. Maybe something I thought of as
Christ was at the centre. But maybe that wasn't Christ at all?
Maybe I missed Jesus. At least partly.
Yes, this Christmas is very different for me. I gave up church for Lent.
And I have continued to give it up. Since Lent I have attended
two or three church services, one meditation at a church, several meetings of
a "not church" whose people look to Jesus, and some Quaker
worship. This Christmas I am not a church goer. And I do
not call myself a Christian. I haven't yet followed Bertrand
Russell and written a book called "Why I am not a Christian."
Perhaps my reasons would be very different to his.
I'm not a Christian. I don't believe in the literal truth of
much of the Jesus story found in the Bible. And I don't believe
all the doctrines and dogmas that religious men (almost always men
not women) have piled onto those stories and engraved in stones more
solid than those God supposedly wrote the Ten Commandments on.
And yet ... There's still this Jesus. I still read some
people who place Jesus at the centre of their lives and I love what
they write and respect the faith they have. It has to be said
that they're not exactly of the Calvinist persuasion. The Jesus
people I like won't tell me I am doomed in some way because of being
inherently sinful. They won't tell me that their religion is
the only hope for this world. They won't tell me I'm a transgender
abomination. They won't tell me that Jesus would increase
nuclear weapon stocks and demonise asylum seekers. The Jesus
people I like are progressive ones, people seeking the way of love,
seeking that inclusiveness. Some of them don't even believe in
God.
Who knows, perhaps one day I'll be able to return to Jesus and the
story, interpreting the whole thing in a way far removed from the
traditions of men that I so fervently believed. This year it's
been too painful. I crucified myself on the cross of
Christianity for all those years. So many versions of
Christianity wounded me deeply. And because I believed I was
deserving of Hell - and a transgender abomination to boot - I found
versions that wounded me more. It was only after moving to
Newcastle that I began to find a path out of all that.
This Christmas feels pretty strange because I am not a Christian.
I hardly know what to do.
But it feels wonderful too because I am not a Christian. I
am more free than I have ever been in my life.
This Christmas Christ is not at the centre of my life. Or
maybe Christ is. Maybe I'll find that out in 2017. The
true Christ - anointing of Spirit, passion, fire, beauty, love,
freedom, generosity, openness, and everything else the word can be.
And Jesus too - a far more radical Jesus than the one who came to
save us from our sins and from eternal judgement. Maybe that
Jesus will still be a part of my life and like some of the people I
read I will walk with Jesus while not being a Christian.
An extra photo I found in another folder.
Here I am with my toys on my first Christmas day.
Whatever you believe, however you celebrate or don't celebrate I
wish you a happy Christmas and leave you with a hope that the Christ
anointing will affect your life in 2017 and you will discover more of
the Christ Spirit that already exists in you.
That's not a call to conversion to a creed or even to a person.
It's a call to realise your self. A call to find your own
wonder, your strength, your beauty, your passion, and to grow in the
God which is everything we call love and light, creating that God and
dwelling in God by choosing to walk in that love and light.
Yep. My God is not a being, not a person living in the sky.
I am not a theist. But I am not an atheist either. I'm
not quite sure what I am. And I believe that statement is where
freedom dwells. Because in that statement is possibility and
the embracing of a greater wonder than I ever could have found
before.
Happy Christmas.
Live in Wonder.
Live in Love.
And if you're feasting, enjoy yourself.
Here I am, behind my dad in 1980. On the left side are my mum and my brother. You can tell that it's 1980. The 70s had finished and our 70s wallpaper had finished with them. We feasted well. Roast turkey, home made yorkshire puddings - my mum did the best yorkshire puddings of course - roast potatoes made in the specific potato roasting dish that continued to be use until my mum's death - and vegetables. Although if you were to look closely you would spot a total lack of vegetables on my plate. And then there would have been a dessert of some kind. Some years we even had a Christmas pudding and I know my dad set fire to it on one occasion.
If you can feast as well as we did and with as little pressure as we had to be perfect then you're doing very well.
