Readings:
Isaiah 7:10-16
Psalm 80:1-8,18-20
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-end 

Collect:
Eternal God,
as Mary waited for the birth of your Son,
so we wait for his coming in glory;
bring us through the birth pangs of this present age
to see, with her, our great salvation
in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Reflection

I'm writing this after snowfall, when all the world has been turned into a traditional Christmas card. Spiders’ webs are draped across the hedges like lace doilies, and the pavements are smooth and white where no footstep has yet passed. The red-breasted robin in the tree outside my window seems to be singing more loudly - or perhaps it only seems so because everywhere is so quiet. It's as if the streets and houses have paused to take a breath, the wonder of winter overturning, just for a moment, the push for relentless activity. 

Whether this icy magic will last until Christmas is uncertain, but perhaps both its memory and its lessons might.  Because as I wax lyrical about the winter wonderland, it's set me thinking. What I see as beauty and wonder, someone else may experience as quite the opposite. Of course, snow, and countless other things too, can be an inconvenience, something to grumble about. There are always reasons to grumble! But this year the cold is dangerous too, as many struggle to heat their homes or feed themselves. For them, this lovely spectacle is a threat and something to be endured. That’s why it's so important to step outside of our own interpretation of things, to see things from the point of view of another. As for the grumblers (and I can be one of those too, just not about snow!) – well, perhaps the challenge is to try to see the beauty, or potential, or possibility for joy in the things that annoy us. There’s so much to grumble about, if we’re not careful we might find ourselves turning into the Grinch, or maybe even Scrooge (who’s that saying bah humbug?!). Because just as the snow seems to change the landscape overnight, so changing our perspective can bring a new compassion to the fore, or a freshness and surprise to our own journey. 

The Christmas story is full of moments of changed perspective. Lowly shepherds are invited to the party, foreigners have treasures to share, a woman bears and births the still centre of the universe. God leaves the distant heavens and dwells among us, one of us, in all our complicated, messy, human-ness. 

It's easy to take this story and this season for granted. Another year of carol services, mince pies, presents to wrap - same old, same old. It may even feel like an inconvenience, or at least a pressure and source of stress. Perhaps that’s because we haven’t looked at Christmas from the perspective of someone else – someone who would be glad for safety, or shelter, or warmth or a hot meal; someone who would be glad to be welcomed and included; someone who would be glad to be ‘seen’ and appreciated; someone who didn’t think they’d see this December or someone who knows they won’t see next….Changing our perspective may help us to understand more deeply the power of the Christmas message – that there is room, and hope, for everyone, as this year’s Methodist Christmas video says. 

And changing our perspective, taking a moment to pause and take a breath, may also help us to capture again the wonder of what it is we celebrate – God, the Eternal One, the Mystery, the Source, the Light, come as a human child to live and love and grow and die as we do. Isn’t that amazing? 

As we end one year and begin another, may our prayer be for a changed perspective, and a sense of wonder at the hugeness of the claims of our faith, and yet the smallest joys too. 

Sharon Grenham-Thompson