A Christmas reflection from Church of Ireland Bishop of Cashel, Ferns and Ossory

Greetings to you all. My name is Adrian Wilkinson and I’m the new Church of Ireland Bishop of Cashel, Ferns and Ossory.

Where will we put the Christmas tree? It is probably not something many of you ask yourselves. 

No doubt it goes in the same place every year. But for us as a family, who moved house at the end of October, we had to think where the Christmas tree, and indeed all our other familiar decorations, would be put this year.

And where will we put the crib? Now as a bishop, for the first time we find ourselves living in a house that has a chapel attached, so maybe that is where it should be put. 

After all it is a peaceful place; a holy place and cribs go in churches. But then the chapel is at one end of the house, a little removed. It’s on its own. 

In the end as a family, we decided the crib would go where it always has gone, in the hall near the front door. 

There it will be among all the busyness of life and the other decorations, just where the postman will see it, or the electrician or plumber coming to do some routine maintenance, there where the guests who are attending a Christmas event in the house take off their coats, there where the shopping bags are placed as we unload them from the car. 

The crib tells the story of the God who in Jesus Christ left a holy and peaceful space, to live in a world of busyness. The baby Jesus, the Prince of Peace, was not born in a palace, far removed from other people. 

He was born in simple surroundings, within ear shot of revellers, within the sight and smell of farm animals. He was born not in a warm cot but in the hay and in a trough normally reserved for the animal’s food.

He was born at the end of a long journey with exhausted parents who had to rely on the generosity of others to have a roof over their heads at their time of most need and vulnerability. 

Mary and Joseph needed the help and support of women who quite possibly were strangers to them, to act as midwives. It is worth remembering that Jesus was born in temporary accommodation. 

And what happened immediately after this dramatic birth? Was it a return to simple domestic bliss for this young couple with their newborn child? 

We read in St Matthew’s Gospel ‘an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him. Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod.’ 

There is something very contemporary about this aspect of the Christmas story. It is a part we might be tempted to leave out, stopping at the manger scene in Bethlehem, with the holy family, the shepherds and the wise men with their gifts, but that was only the first part of what was to come. The place of the nativity in Bethlehem was a staging post on the refugee road into exile.

And where was the birth of this special child proclaimed? Not from the Temple or a religious building, not from a pulpit by a priest in elaborate robes. 

No, his birth was first proclaimed to shocked shepherds, rough men in the middle of their demanding work caring for flocks on far flung hillsides. They were people on the edge, simple people who didn’t live in the towns and so in normal circumstances would have been the last to hear the news. 

A hallway and not a chapel, a stable and not a palace, a hillside and not a temple. There is a pattern here. 

God reaches out to all people and comes to them in places, at times and in ways they least expect. He comes to those who are often overlooked. He is not shut away and protected but takes risks to be found in the ordinary things of life, and among the vulnerable. Indeed, as a refugee child, he becomes vulnerable himself.

This Christmas, we are aware of those who consider themselves ordinary, but maybe for the first time, worry about the cost of living and the heating bills. 

We are aware of those who feel very vulnerable indeed as for the first time they spend Christmas far away from their native land and are separated from their loved ones who must stay behind. For them, this Christmas will be very different indeed from the one they were celebrating this time last year. Every Christmas, it never ceases to amaze me how people respond to the needs of others. Charities somehow receive the resources and support they need so that they can keep on giving. People open their hearts and their homes as well, to help the exile and refugee. 

No doubt there are those who are being enriched by learning of other Christmas traditions and customs from the people they are sharing time with this Christmas. 

People of all faiths and none, pool their resources and good will to the benefit us all. Maybe this should come as no surprise. Perhaps deep down we all know that the crib is best placed not in a chapel, but in the hallway.