Midnight Mass 2004

At the end of Mass tonight, we shall proclaim one of the most famous passages of literature in the world, known to theologians as Saint John’s Prologue and Catholic liturgical tradition, a little contrarily, as the Last Gospel.  Bishop Benson, in his service of Nine Lessons and Carols, bills it as Saint John unfolding the mystery of the Incarnation, which, whilst less pithy than the other two titles, does at least give us a clue as to its contents.

These fourteen verses set the Person of Christ within the context of God’s eternal purposes for His creation, in particular the enlightenment of humanity, so that we might narrow the distance that our sinfulness forces between us and our Maker.  As such it represents the summit of New Testament reflexion, weaving into the narratives notions drawn from Greek philosophical speculation to expand our understanding of the significance of Christ and His work.

A full account of the Hellenic scholarship that underpins the text would not be feasible here, since we have another in a few hours’ time but for our purposes this evening, we shall pull out one little strand.

In seeking to find a concept, which can communicate to the wider world of his time, Who the Christ really was, the author of the passage selects the model of the Logos of the divine.  Logos literally means Word, but in the context of philosophical discourse, has a much wider significance, referring equally to the mind of the Divine.  Therefore, when the Word was made flesh in Jesus of Nazareth, the divine Will was given a material existence.  A material existence, furthermore, that was vulnerable to the depredations of the very iniquity against which It was directed.

In short, as it were, God put His money where His Mouth was, in a concrete demonstration of the love that He has for His people by taking on the powers of this world, very literally man to man: His Word was translated into an exactly commensurate deed.

Viewed in this way, the Baby in the Crib sheds a light on the dinginess of the record of matching our deeds to our words.  This does not refer solely, or even primarily, to the good honest lie, but to the weasel words that characterise our modern society.  Everyday, we encounter carefully crafted forms of words that are intended purely to obfuscate.  Momentous sounding statements, when analysed prove to have said nothing at all – or at least nothing that translates into any significant action.

Our minds may quickly move to the spin doctors of the political machinery, but they are not the only peddlers of this merchandise, nor even, perhaps the most blatant.  Close to home, the Bishops of the Lambeth Conference 1998 undertook in their summary statement to engage in continuing dialogue.  The spitting of prelatical venom across the globe during the course of this year stretches the meaning of dialogue, as Geoffrey Howe might say, beyond what is credible.

However, our mothers and fathers in God are not alone.  Every day, we are beset by words that are not underpinned by the reality they purport to communicate.  Goods and services are not what we are meant to perceive from what it says on the tin; someone’s “yes” as often as not, has, at best, the status of a definite maybe and governments and other corporations generate endless tracts offering such a stylized version of the facts that the information, though correct, spreads more darkness than light in the quest for knowledge.

The result of all this is that even the most trusting of people are reluctant to believe a word they read or hear; there is a prevalent perception that almost everything anyone says is, somehow, a shakedown or a scam.  Cynicism is the order of the day and that is corrupting for human commerce, because it breeds the inertia and mistrust that paralyses society.

Of course, this honing of the presentational art form did not just emerge unprompted.  We have, nowadays, a voracious appetite for new details every minute of the day, including those which are not our business or even when there is nothing to say.  Those whose lot it is to respond to popular expectation, resort to dissembling and speculation with a hint that their inside knowledge raises the content of their utterances to fact.

However, even facts that are facts can be very misleading if they are divorced from their context.  My father was very keen on facts.  Borrowing, I suspect, from his repertoire of workplace mantras, he would chide me often to eschew the truth and stick to the facts when I embarked upon an articulate by basically vacuous explanation of my failure to satisfy his expectations; but, he mistook obfuscation for what he and many others consider to be the relativism of truth.

Real truth is absolute; but its mastery requires a total knowledge of the circumstances, no matter how remote they may be to the immediate moment of an event – the butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon that causes hurricanes in Southeast England, perhaps, for example.  Herein lies the problem, for none of us has that comprehensive grasp of the facts that gives us certain access to the truth.

On the other hand, the speed of life and demands of the day militate against us perceiving the full significance of even what we do know and we fall between two stools – that of partial knowledge and a failure fully to appreciate what is available to us; a problem that is exacerbated by the shoal of red-herrings that comprises speculation and misleading presentation.

We need to learn to speak less and reflect more; to think before we speak as to whether it is necessary to say anything at all; and after others have spoken, about the full implications of the information that they have imparted.

Tonight, in the Baby of Bethlehem, God has spoken, but one Word – but that Word contains and conveys the fullness of all truth; for It is the very Word of God.

Home page: http://stmatthewsnewcastle.org.uk/