Bishop of St Albans

Christmas sermon preached at St Alban’s Abbey

Text: Luke 2. 1-14

One of my pre Christmas treats was to go with friends to the cinema to see Of Gods and Men. It tells the true story of Christophe Lebreton, a French doctor who lived for more than 50 years as a Cistercian monk. The monastery was situated on the edge of a small Muslim village in Algeria where Christians and Muslims had lived happily, side by side, for decades. The monks joined in the daily round of their neighbours’ lives, helping out where needed, and attending the weddings and funerals of local families. Their life revolved around the worship of God, growing their vegetables and offering medical care to sick villagers.

But fifteen years ago, this happy equilibrium was disturbed by mounting lawlessness and political unrest in the surrounding countryside. The military lost control and groups of men were terrorising the local populace. Soon the monks began to receive death threats. Should they go or should they stay? After a time of terrible inner turmoil and debate the monks resolved to stay. They had made their vows. They could neither abandon their life of prayer and service, nor their terrified friends in the local villages.

During the night of 27^th March 1996 Christophe and six monks of the Cistercian Monastery of Our Lady of Atlas, near the village of Tibhirine, were abducted by terrorists, by men who were inspired by racial and religious hatred. All seven monks were murdered on 21^st May, 1996. It is an atrocity that still haunts the French memory today and provokes puzzlement and outrage.

The unbelievable courage of the monks in the face of sustained intimidation and their lives of compassionate service to their Muslim neighbours is movingly portrayed in the film which won the Grand Prix at the Cannes film festival this year, and is hotly tipped for an Oscar. Being a French film it’s not on general release, but if you can, do go and see it. Apart from the fact that it is a true story and that is it beautifully acted and filmed, it illustrates what lies at the heart of our Christmas celebration – the truth that God comes to dwell among us in love and vulnerability. It is a love, so powerful, that it transforms individuals and entire communities. This is as much good news today as it was when it was first heard by poor shepherds as they guarded their flocks on a hillside two thousand years ago:

¹⁰The angel said to the shepherds, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: ¹¹to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah,^* the Lord. ¹²This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’

When the shepherds arrive in the stable in Bethlehem they find this little bundle of life in whom the fullness of God dwells. Here is the Messiah. Here is the love of God for all to see. As Christina Rosetti famously put it in her carol:

Love came down at Christmas, love so lovely, so divine.

Love came down at Christmas, Star and angel gave the sign

God making himself vulnerable, for love is indeed always vulnerable. It is as fragile as it is strong. It is a truth we human beings shy away from. We cannot give love to others or indeed receive it without making ourselves vulnerable.

In the film there is a moving scene when a young Muslim girl seeks counsel from Father Christophe, the doctor turned monk. She is facing the prospect of an arranged marriage and is troubled. She asks the elderly monk, ‘Father, have you ever fallen in love?’ ‘Yes’ he replies, ‘many times’. The girl is puzzled. ‘Then how did you cope or end up a monk?’ The old man pauses, ‘Because I discovered a greater love’. He had been grasped by the same powerful love that the shepherds beheld, a ‘love so lovely, so divine’ and so universal.

In familiar words from the opening of St John‘s gospel

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

In the Bible the word ‘to live among’ literally means ‘to pitch tent’. St John is saying, God ‘set up camp in our midst’ and now he lives with us and among us. No wonder one of the great Christmas words is Emmanuel – ‘God is with us’. But such open, vulnerable love is no panacea. It challenges us and our world. And sometimes it provokes the powers of evil to fight back, which was why at the end of his short life this vulnerable baby would be hung on a cross:

‘He came to his own, but his own did not receive him.’

It is this powerful but disturbing truth – ‘God with us’ - that those French monks were living out day by day in their simple life in Algeria. In response to the call of God they too had ‘pitched their tent’, in their case alongside a Muslim community, with whom they shared their life of prayer and service in peace and harmony.

The tragedy for the monks, as indeed it was for Joseph and Mary who had to cope with the violence of Herod, was that powerful destructive forces were pitched against them. Eventually it led to their abduction and murder.

Still today we live in a world where there are destructive powers which try to divide communities, races and religions. The Christian church in Iraq is one of the oldest in the world, yet 50% of Christians in that country have had to flee since 2003 in the face of extreme violence. Tragically, we receive almost daily reports of Christians being attacked or murdered there. This Christmas many church services have been cancelled because of threats. They have appealed for us to pray for their protection.

But hatred and unrest is not just found in far away places. In the past year we have seen racist marches on our streets in London and Bolton, in Dudley and Peterborough, in Aylesbury and Bradford, led by individuals who want to stir up unrest. Even as I speak, demonstrations are being planned in Luton in six weeks time which could seriously undermine community relations. Some people are even trying to commandeer Christianity to support their cause.

As Christian people, like those monks in Algeria we have to stand firm, rooted in the love of Christ and in our service to men, women and children of all faiths and none. And we can do so with confidence because as St John also tells us, not only does ‘love cast out fear’, but the light of Christ ‘shines in the darkness, and the darkness will never overcome it’.

This Christmas, as we come afresh to the manger let us kneel in the presence of the God who shares his all encompassing love with us. This is good news for all the world. Our task is to receive that love into our lives and allow it to transforms us and our attitudes to others. So may the peace of God rule in our hearts and in our world today.

ends