Community Carol Service by Rev’d Lucy

The Gospel of Luke begins the Christmas story with an edict from the most powerful man of the age.

“A decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered.”

Jesus is born into a world shaped by political command. Many empires have promised peace, and Augustus was no exception. His Pax Romana claimed to bring stability, but it was a peace that served those in power and placed heavy demands on those with little say. Later, Pax Britannica would make similar claims. Both rest on the idea that peace can be secured if authority is firm enough and if everyone else falls into line. But that sort of peace relies on force and control, and it often produces fear rather than trust. Augustus’ census uprooted families and sent whole communities travelling under orders.

Centuries before this moment, the prophet Isaiah spoke of one who would come bearing God’s authority and peace:

“Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

These words rise again in our hearing at Christmas because Christians have long recognised their fulfilment in the birth of Jesus. The titles are grand enough to make us catch our breath.
Yet the one who bears them arrives without privilege or rank or shelter. He is laid in a manger because there was no room for him anywhere else.

What sort of prince chooses a stable?

·       A prince whose kingdom is unlike the kingdoms we build.

·       A prince whose peace is not imposed but offered.

·       A prince who comes to remake the world not through force, but to set things right by drawing creation back into relationship with God.

It is not the powerful who hear this first. It is shepherds on the night shift, people with no status and little influence, who hear the words:

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those on whom his favour rests.”

The peace Christ brings does not resemble the peace of empire. It is not built on coercion or control. It is the peace of God mending what is fractured, bringing people back into right relationship, and laying the foundations for justice, integrity and human dignity to flourish.

Christmas shows us that God enters our world as it is, with all its tensions and uncertainties. By coming among us in Christ, God opens the way to a better future and helps us to see both our past and our present with new hope. It means we don’t need to hide the places that ache for peace, because God is present in those places and does not turn away.

If you’ve not already done so, I would like to invite you to write your own hopes and prayers for peace on one of the paper doves that can be detached from the invitation to this service, and to hang it on the Christmas tree. It’s a simple act, yet it helps us to speak truthfully about where peace is needed, and to entrust those places to God.

The dove has long been used as a sign of peace. In Scripture, it appears at moments when a new chapter opens: returning to Noah with signs that devastation would not have the final word; and descending on Jesus at his baptism as his ministry began. Over time, the dove has come to symbolise fresh beginnings, and the hope that peace can take root even where it has been lacking.

So today, these paper doves give us a way of naming the places that matter to us: the places close to home, the places further afield, the people and situations we carry in our hearts.

And whatever our background or belief, and however large or small our sphere of influence, each of us can think of situations where the way we choose to respond can move things towards peace rather than away from it.

·      Perhaps in letting go of a grievance we have carried too long.

·      Perhaps in admitting when we have contributed to tension.

·      Perhaps in seeking clarity rather than assuming the worst.

·      Perhaps in choosing patience with ourselves as well as with others.

The peace we hear about at Christmas doesn’t begin with sweeping power. It begins with a child. With a manger. With shepherds in the dark. With the smallest gestures of faithfulness and courage.

God’s action shows us that peace doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. It takes root in the midst of ordinary life, and it grows through people willing to play their part in it, however small that part may seem. And so, in these polarised times, we trust that even our small acts of peace have their place in the world God is remaking.

Amen.