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St Thomas' Brampton and St Peter's Holymoorside, Chesterfield
Christmas Messages 2005
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The Bishop of Derby's Christmas Message 2005 can be read here.
The Archbishop of Canterbury's Christmas Message 2005 can be read here.
The Archbishop of Canterbury's New Year's Eve Message 2005 can be read here.

Rector's Christmas Message 2005
Published in the 2005 edition of 'Spotlight', a publication distributed free twice a year throughout the parish.

'Sorry Mate-No Room'

Picture the scene: a typical infant nativity production. Mary a 'heavily pregnant' six year old, struggles to walk with a pillow under her dress. Joseph vainly attempts to look strong and manly with a tea towel on his head. They move across the stage towards the inn where they inquire about the availability of space from the disappointed innkeeper.

Disappointed? Most certainly. Little Johnny, the innkeeper, is very disappointed. He wanted to be Joseph this year, but all he has is one single line in the whole script. He would have had more of a role being the back end of the cow in the stable scene. He's not in a congenial mood and he wants his revenge.

Joseph inquires with the traditional words, 'Is there any room in your inn? My wife is pregnant and we have come far.' To which little Johnny replies, with a twinkle in his eye, 'Plenty of room mate, come on in.'

What fools those Bethlehem innkeepers were. What an opportunity they missed. God coming as man to be born amongst us, and they had the chance to give him shelter. They could have entertained angels and witnessed the wonder of the incarnation. But they were full, too busy with other people and their own needs. In their defence, I suppose they could plead ignorance. They weren't to know the identity of the baby that Mary was carrying.

Do we have such a defence? Yet in all the hustle and bustle of the celebrations, do we still say to Jesus- 'Sorry Mate, no room'? Corrie ten Boom, a Christian writer, once said, 'If Jesus was born one thousand times in Bethlehem and not in me, then I would still be lost'.

Make room for the King this Christmas.

David Mouncer 2005

Christmas Message from the Rt Rev'd Dr Alastair Redfern, Bishop of Derby

GIVING PEACE ON EARTH
Not just a gimmick

Today (Friday December 16th) I was giving out Thornton’s chocolate in a shopping centre.

Is this a gimmick – a one-off that makes me or someone else feel good for a moment? That might be one way of thinking about giving at Christmas. We feel responsible for making some people feel good at this special season. So parents treat children, work mates treat each other, and the Bishop gives out chocolates to strangers!

But we all know giving is more than a one-off moment. The preparation and choosing of gifts, then the receiving and remembering, all takes time, effort, wondering. Giving is a gesture of love. It reminds us that we love and are loved. At Christmas, behind the bustle of shopping and struggling to get everything done, is the miracle that what each of us needs is to love and be loved.

The Christian gospel is about the gift of a child – a new life to be a sign and model of new life for every person. Jesus means 'Saviour'. This new life is one of thanks for the miracle of life, of love, of light when darkness threatens. This life and love and light is for everyone – for our families and friends, as a sign of how we need to treat every person given breath by God. 'Peace on earth and goodwill among all', as the angels sing. And that is why I gave chocolates to strangers, as a sign of goodwill. And every gift you give will not be a gimmick, but a sign of love for everyone: that is the good news of Christmas.

I was accompanied in the shopping centre by children from St. James’ Junior School, Derby, singing carols of God’s amazing love. New life, true love, light in the darkness. Perhaps, despite the hustle and bustle to get everything done and all your presents organised, you might say a prayer and make a gift to a charity, so that you can spread love a little wider too. You don’t need to be a Bishop helped by Thornton’s – you just need a heart to give. Then the angels’ song will be more real, and our lives much better too.

Giving can never be a gimmick – giving is simply the sharing of love. May that be the Christmas message of all of us.

+Alastair

The Archbishop of Canterbury's Christmas Message to the Anglican Communion
15 December 2005


Perhaps the two images most of us will carry away from the last twelve months are those of the devastation caused by the tsunami just after last Christmas and by the hurricanes that devastated the southern states of America in the autumn. The natural world became a place of terror and disaster.

The question never quite goes away of why God made a world in which such tragedy is possible. But Christmas reminds us of the one thing we know for sure - and that is God's way of responding to suffering. He doesn't wave a magic wand, or descend briefly from the sky to clean things up.

He arrives on earth as a human being who will change things simply by the completeness of his love. Jesus is dedicated to the will of the one he calls Father, the divine source of his own divine life. Never for a moment does he put any obstacle in the way of that ultimate, total outpouring of love that is the wellspring of his own life. He gives himself to this transforming purpose in every moment, whatever it costs.

And the world changes - even the physical world: death is overcome and the material world reveals God's glory in its depths. So we are changed.

New things become possible for us, new levels of loving response and involvement. As has often been said, the Christian answer to the problem of suffering is not a theory but the story of a life and a death, Jesus' life and death. And for that answer to be credible now, that story has to be visible in our story. We must give an answer to suffering and tragedy in what we do - because the one thing we know is that this is what God does. Faith is restored and strengthened not by talking but by witness in action. And one of the moving things that this year has brought for me is the awareness of how generously so many have responded to the desperate needs of the tsunami victims and those who suffered in New Orleans.

I have had moving letters describing the sacrificial work of Anglicans in the Province of South-East Asia, and in the diocese of Kurunagula in Sri Lanka, to name only two instances, clearly witnessing to the willingness to respond first and ask theoretical questions afterwards.

And only a few days ago, I listened to a woman from Texas speaking of her work day and night over many weeks in Houston with those who had been made homeless by Hurricane Katrina. Here are stories of people who know how to answer the challenges of terrible suffering in God's way - by obedience and service and love.

There is something about Christianity that always pulls us back from imagining that everything will be all right if we can find the right things to say - because for God, the right thing to say at Christmas was the crying of a small child, beginning a life of risk and suffering. God shows us how, by his grace and in his Spirit, we can respond to the tormenting riddles of the world. And, as we agonise over the future of our beloved church, with all its debates and bitter struggles at the moment, it does us no harm to remember that God will not solve our Anglican problems by a plan or a formula, but only by the miracle of his love in Jesus. If we want to be part of the solution, we must first be wholly and unconditionally pledged to that love, with all its costs. May God who works in the weakness and smallness of the Christmas child work in our weakness and smallness; may he bless and strengthen you all at this season.

+Rowan Cantuar:

The Archbishop of Canterbury's New Year's Eve 2005 Message to the Anglican Communion
31 December 2005


It’s not easy being on your own in a city anywhere; and being on your own in London is pretty challenging. There are all kinds of reasons for people being on their own, of course. Look around here, at this club and drop-in centre in Deptford, and you’ll find young people with issues around drugs and employment and homelessness – but you’ll also find older people, who’ve been widowed, or who’ve been seriously ill, or who’ve just lost the energy for the struggle in one way or another. The issues are so varied and so deep-rooted. You’re bound to ask, ‘Just how much can anybody do for anyone else’?

But this isn’t a place where you expect to chalk up a series of dramatic success stories. Those who work here will tell you that the point isn’t to solve the problems but chiefly to say to everyone who comes through the door that they don’t have to face them alone. They’re trying to close the gap that so readily opens up between people. They have realised that at times the most we can do for each other is to say, ‘I can’t promise to keep you safe, but I’ll do all I can to make sure that there’s someone with you in the worst moments.

When disasters and tragedies come on us thick and fast – and this last year has seen so many horrors of suffering, natural and man-made – it’s painful to accept that we can’t just do something straight away to set it all right. So we need to see that the one thing anyone can do is to try and close the gap, to let others know that they’re not on their own.

It can be done in the smallest act of recognition – a word or two on the street to a Big Issue seller, an Amnesty card to a political prisoner somewhere. It can be done in the routine work of a drop-in centre, exchanging a few words, making a cup of tea; just telling people that they’re worth spending time with.

We’re used to hearing it said that the world is growing smaller. Communications make us more aware of what’s happening, and travel possibilities mean that it may be our friends and families who are involved in some disaster on the other side of the world. This time last year, there were so many anxious families waiting for news of friends and relatives in the wake of the tsunami. This autumn, so many Indian and Pakistani families in this country had to face the same anxiety about their relatives back in the earthquake area.

Communications make the gap grow narrower in some ways. The challenge for us is to close the gap in our awareness and our readiness to be there alongside the lonely and suffering. And of course, part of the Christmas message is not that God solves all our problems at a single stroke, but that through Jesus he is completely alongside us and has enough resources to see us through whatever happens. The Bible reminds us too that when one part of a body is in pain it’s the whole person who feels it. When you have a toothache, it isn’t the tooth that feels the misery, it’s you. If anyone is living less than a proper human life, we’re all poorer for it. We’re all involved already, like it or not

Whether it’s our neighbours on the streets of Deptford or our neighbours in Pakistan or India or Sri Lanka or Central Africa, what we can all do is to try and close the gap that little bit further: to let people know that they’re not suffering alone. We still have to look for the big solutions, the long-term aid and support, the problem-solving plans. But let’s start with what anyone can do, anywhere; never mind the success, simply act and speak as if people were worth taking seriously.

In this New Year, may you be aware of the God who closes the gap between his life and yours through his love; and may you be spurred on to do what you can to close the gaps between people by your compassion and courage.

+Rowan Cantuar: