Reflection for Christmas Day: Meeting the God who comes alongside us

 'And the Word became flesh, and dwelt in our midst'.

One of my pleasures over the past few years has been reading Stephen Fry's retelling of the Greek myths in his books Mythos, Heroes and latterly Troy. I both love Fry's wry humour and observations as he tells the stories of the deities such as Zeus and Hera, or the great heroes such as Achilles or Hector. But what sticks with me is the way in which the deities are presented as meddling in human affairs. Zeus is particularly guilty of this, he can hardly pass a beautify face in the street without getting himself (and her) into some form of trouble: Zeus's wife Hera is particularly unforgiving not just of Zeus, but also of his unwitting victims as well. The deities of Greek mythology take as well as give, but they do so out of caprice not love, and demand a high price in return.

Today, as we read once again the prologue of John's Gospel we hear the words  'And the Word became flesh, and dwelt in our midst'. Words that remind us that God in Christ became human as we are, and dwelt in our midst.

[I love this modern image of the Holy Famiy, demonstrating as it does the complexities of life, modern and ancient alike*. The God who comes alongside us meets us exactly where we are, and walks with us from there into eternity.]

God, John tells us in his Epistle, is Love. He loves us, and all that he does is founded in love. Creation is done in love, Christ is sent in love, and dies on the cross for love of us. Unlike the deities of the Greek myths God does not act out of selfish will, but always out of love.

In the Bible we get a sense of what God's love looks like. In the New Testament in particular we get a sense of a God who comes alongside us. In John 1 we are told he dwells in our midst. In the Greek word for the Holy Spirit, Paraclete, we are told that the Spirit is one who comes alongside us. And in the Parable of the Good Samaritan we find someone who cares for his neighbour by coming alongside him, and caring for his needs.

This is a year when we have most needed someone to come alongside us. This has been the loneliest of years when, by necessity, we have been locked out of our churches, and we are locked out one again. Whilst we know this and the various lockdowns are the right thing to do, we also know that the human spirit needs human contact: we are creatures made for relationship. (It's for this reason that God says in Genesis 'let us make man in our own image', because God at his heart is the relationship between Father, Son and Holy Spirit.) When we are denied relationship we lose something of ourselves, and no matter how right we know that decision to be, we still struggle because we have lost something vital to us.

In the Incarnation God comes alongside us in a particular way, and despite or perhaps because of the death, resurrection and ascension of Christ, he does not leave us. First he came alongside us in Christ, n ow he stays at our side and in our hearts as the Holy Spirit. (Not forgetting the real presence of Christ in the Sacrament of the Altar, the consecrated bread and wine of the Mass.) And whilst we will sometimes feel that we are alone in the world, God makes his dwelling within us and alongside us: In Christ the Word becomes flesh and dwells in our midst. And he does this, not because he wants something, as the Greek deities so often wanted in the Greek myths, but because he loves us.

So as we celebrate this Christmas season and the gift of Christ making his dwelling in our midst, let us not forget that the Spirit dwells in our midst still, and walks alongside us and dwells with us. And let us in turn look out for those who are struggling with loneliness, and let us come alongside them as safely as we can, and let them know God's love for them.

* How many allusions to the Gospels and traditions surrounding the Nativity ancuent and modern can you spot?