CHRISTMAS, 1964 “LET US GO AND SEE THIS THING THAT IS COME TO PASS”

Press, Volume CIII, Issue 30632, 24 December 1964, Page 10

CHRISTMAS, 1964 “LET US GO AND SEE THIS THING THAT IS COME TO PASS”

IB V

GARDNER MILLER]

Amid all the glowing and coloured stories of the Birth of Christ, one point has never been destroyed, or even denied, and that is there was something to see. Christmas is not a fantasy thought up by an exuberant group of the first century to bolster the new faith that had burst upon the world. It is a reality in spite of its legendary background; it is a fact no matter how overlaid it is with tradition, and without this reality, this fact, civilisation as we know it would never have emerged. Notwithstanding the terrifying possibilities that lie just round the corner, it will not be by guns or bombs that civilisation will be preserved; it will be preserved by what happened in a little town in the East, the town of Bethlehem, where a distracted young woman gave birth to a boy child.

One of the tender and immortal stories of the Birth of Christ is that of the shepherds who were spellbound by what they saw and heard on a moonlight night which made them hurry to the courtyard of an inn. “Let us go and see this thing the angel told us of.” They came and what did they see?—a baby. The Marvel No religion that has sought the homage of men ever presented itself as a simple, helpless infant, as Christianity has done. The marvel that is the unfailing spring of the Christian Faith, is that Christianity began in a birth in very lowly circumstances, attended not by flattering courtiers and proclamations but by humble peasants and lowly beasts of burden. The shepherds told the parents what had happened, the vision of the angels and the urgent message: “Do not be afraid; I have good news for you .. .

today ... a Deliverer has been born .. . you will find a baby lying all wrapped up in a manger.” Jesus, the Christ, was a baby without a cradle, a man without a home, a king whose crown was made of thorns. He is, after two thousand years of history—during which kingdoms have risen and fallen and religions have proliferated, unmatched in morality and glorious in spiritual power. He is conqueror of death and the only founder of religion who is still alive, for His resurrection not only liberated all who follow Him from the bondage of death, it also made possible his constant presence among men everywhere today. There is no need to search for Him, either in the sky above or in a grave. There can never be any procession to His grave, for His grave is unknown. He is not dead, this strange and wonderful person, so strange and wonderful that He cannot be indentified as other than God. What the shepherds saw as a baby, we, today see not as a baby but a Godman whose words judge the world and whose mercy redeems the sinner. We have been with the

shepherds to “see” what they saw in a courtyard of the little town of Bethlehem. Come with me now and “see” something sublime in the midst of the horror and brutality of a Gestapo prison in Berlin. It is Christmas Eve, 1944. In a cell was Dr. Hanns Lilje, the Lutheran Bishop of Hanover and a wellknown figure in the Ecumenical Movement. He paced up and down his cell which was only five paces wide, thinking of Christmas at home with his wife and children. His number is called out and he is taken by a guard to another cell and saw a prisoner whom he knew as Count ‘X.’

The Count, under sentence of death, wanted to receive Holy Communion. Another prisoner was brought in, a brilliant violinist, also under the sentence of death. The Bishop spoke words of comfort—which means strength —the violinist played a Christmas chorale. A little wine and bread were brought in and on their knees they celebrated the Lord’s Supper. “We were prisoners, in the prison of the Gestapo in Berlin,” said the Bishop later, “but the peace of God en-

folded us like a hand laid gently upon us.” Notice, the Holy Communion was not merely a memorial, it was a living Presence. The Count and the violinist were destroyed soon afterward. The essential element in Christmas is the child who has become and is the Saviour of the world. I See

To be able to “see” into the heart of Christmas is the most binding and liberating experience possible to man. Christmas is not merely a lovely occasion for children, or indeed an occasion for feasting, it is an occasion for renewed reverence. To “see” the meaning of Christmas can only be the experience of those who are awake. Let us go, in thought, to Bethlehem and “see” the great act when God broke through into our human history. And when we “see” with our eyes and minds wide open we shall feel like Saul Kane in Masefield’s “Everlasting Mercy:” “O glory of the lighted mind, how Dead I’d been, how dumb how blind . . • It's dawn I cried . . . It's dawn . . . Along the road Christ led me forth.”