Glistening lights fill the softening twilight. Trinkets and baubles deck trees in shop windows. Santa, his sleigh overflowing with presents, waves to passers-by while enraptured children, counting the number of sleeps to Christmas Day, hope Santa will deliver those longed-for gifts.

Greetings have been written and sent, presents bought and wrapped. The fruit cake steeped in rum and spice quietly ferments and the turkey awaits the oven.

There is a determination in us this year: we will enjoy this Christmas season. Yet in all the plans, parties and celebrations, the merriment and fun, notes of caution sound, ‘Will seeming unstoppable circumstances dampen our festivities?’

Disappointment is simmering, frustration and even fear at the impact of possible restrictions. It is understandable, but let’s not forget what our celebrations are all about. Admittedly, some think it an affront to introduce Jesus and ‘religion’ into Christmas. They believe the church is outdated and morality is specific to a person and not mandated by a religious institution. Others focus on the wrongs of the church and its members. Certainly, Christians do sin and the church is not perfect. But we cannot let another’s sin keep us from seeking the reality of God.

Carols, played and sung each year, remind us of the Nativity. Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in the manager. Shepherds visiting and wise men, led by a star, come bearing gifts.

Ancient travellers once used the stars as a map for guidance. In the velvet blackness of the winter skies, I recognise the plough, the Gemini twins and the bright north star. But I don’t imagine I could use the studded diamonds and twist of the pale milkiness that spirals beyond my eyes like a map.

Each morning the darkness fades to steely monochrome as the sun begins to rise. The light dispels the night. The Bible says Jesus is the light of the world, the one who came to the darkened world of our hearts and minds to give us His light and hope. Born a man, yet divine, begotten not made, the one in whom is the source of all life. The world saw the man Jesus but many did not understand, did not believe. Perhaps because Jesus was like no other king we’d ever seen before.

He was lowly, spending his time with sinners and prostitutes, a strange occupation for a king. Yet He did something incredible. He stood in the gap, the gap which exists in our lives, between earth and heaven, light and darkness and between God and man. The gap, which in our own way, we try to bridge but cannot.

Tearing the paper open early on Christmas morning, children shout with glee. The gift they longed for is finally theirs. God’s gift to us, the very gift we long for is ours to hold too. Purchased at great expense and given in love, Jesus is God’s gift to the world. Removing the gap that exists between man and God, Jesus comes to fill us with His presence. Not dulled by disappointment or restrictions but received by us with open hands today and for all our tomorrows, this gift will always satisfy us to the very depths of our beings.

© copyright Gillian Newham 2022