The work of Christmas….

 

There’s an old story from Communist Russia about a famous weatherman named Rudolf. He was known far and wide as Rudolf the Red, and his forecasts were legendary. If he said it would rain, it rained. If he said it would snow, it snowed. If he said the sun would shine, you could safely hang your washing out.

One evening, despite clear skies, Rudolf announced that a violent storm was coming. His wife disagreed. “There isn’t a cloud within ten miles,” she said. “It’s been the most beautiful day we’ve ever had. It is not going to rain.”

But Rudolf insisted. “If I say it will rain, it will rain.”

They argued all evening, went to bed cross with each other… and sure enough, overnight the heavens opened and the village flooded. The next morning, as they looked outside, Rudolf’s wife sighed and said, “Alright, you were right again. But how did you know?”

Rudolf smiled and said, “You see… Rudolf the Red knows rain, dear.”

Christmas is a time for many things—carols, candles, family, food—and yes, terrible jokes. But once the laughter fades and the wrapping paper is cleared away, Christmas becomes something deeper. A time to reflect. A time to ask:

What now? What next? What difference does Christmas make to us on the 28th of December, or the 2nd of January, or in the middle of March when life feels ordinary again?

There’s a well‑known saying:

When the song of the angels is stilled,  When the star in the sky is gone,  When the kings and princes are home, When the shepherds are back with their flock,  The work of Christmas begins.

And that is exactly where our readings take us today.

In Isaiah (63:7–9), the prophet looks back. He remembers the kindness, compassion, and love of God. He recalls how God rescued His people, carried them, redeemed them, and shared in their suffering.

Isaiah says, “In all their distress, he too was distressed.”

In that simple line, there is an incredible truth - a truth that God is not distant. God is not indifferent. God is not a cold observer of human pain.

Instead, He steps into our story and He feels our sorrow and He carries us when we cannot carry ourselves. Christmas is the ultimate expression of that truth.  

Because Christmas reveals that God does not save from afar. He comes close, so close He becomes a child in a manger. Christmas is the beginning of God’s mission to save the world because the child in the manger came to become the man on the cross, the Saviour who rescues us from sin and brings us home to God

Isaiah looks back so God’s people can look forward with confidence. And so should we, because God who carried Israel still carries us today.

Then we turn to Matthew (2:13–23), and the tone shifts. The angels have stopped singing. The shepherds have gone home. The star has faded. And suddenly, Christmas becomes costly.

Mary and Joseph are forced to flee to Egypt and they become refugees, relying on the kindness of strangers. They learn what many Christians discover sooner or later - that following God sometimes means waiting, sometimes hiding, sometimes stepping into the unknown.

But at the right time, God calls them back and a new chapter begins.

Christmas always leads somewhere. For the Holy Family it led to Nazareth, to the Jordan river as Jesus was baptised. It led to the sick and the poor and the lost.

It led to the cross and to the empty tomb. And that leads to us. Because Christmas is never the end of the story. Rather than just being a recreation of an ancient and well known story, it opens again the possibilities of a message being told afresh - a message of God’s love for his people everywhere…. And our invitation to be involved in the story 

Adapting that verse I used earlier: when the angels stop singing, the work of Christmas begins. When the decorations come down, the work of Christmas begins.

When the crowds go home and the church feels a little quieter, the work of Christmas begins.

And what is that work?

• The work of justice — standing with the vulnerable, speaking for the voiceless.
• The work of mercy — offering forgiveness, showing compassion, loving the unlovely.
• The work of faith — trusting God, following Christ, opening our hearts to the Spirit.
• The work of hospitality — welcoming the stranger, embracing the newcomer.
• The work of witness — sharing the hope we have found in Jesus.
• The work of transformation — allowing God to shape us and send us to share a life changing and incredible message.

These things are not just church, but the very heartbeat of the gospel.

As we look back over the past year, we give thanks - for worship shared, friendships deepened, newcomers welcomed, ministries begun, moments of grace.

But we cannot be complacent. The Church is not, and never should be, a museum to preserve the past. It is a movement to transform the future.

The message remains the same and it remains urgent - Christ crucified, Christ risen, Christ with us - and the way we share that message must be fresh, creative, courageous.

We hear stories recently, positive stories of how people today are considering faith and perhaps even looking at churches, but they’re not looking for perfect churches. They are looking for authentic churches, communities where love is real, faith is lived, and hope is visible.

And every one of us has a part to play. As we prepare to step into a new year, we should do so with confidence, not in ourselves, but in God. God who Isaiah remembered, God Mary trusted, and God revealed in Jesus.

There we can know that God carries us, God saves us. God loves us when we deserve it the least. God calls us to use every gift for His glory.

Erma Bombeck once said,

“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I hope I won’t have a single bit of talent left, and I can say, ‘I used everything you gave me.’”

That is a good prayer for any of us, because the work of Christmas is not done by angels. It is done by ordinary people like Mary and Joseph… and like us.

People who say yes. People who trust God. People who step out in faith. People who love.

So here is the invitation of Christmas, the invitation of Isaiah, the invitation of Jesus:

Come back to justice. Come back to mercy. Come back to faith. Come back to God who carries you. Come back to Christ who calls you.

Let this year be a year of new beginnings. Let this church be a place where the work of Christmas is alive every day. A place as Charles Dickens described (in a Christmas Carol), ‘I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year’…   And if you’ve drifted, or doubted, or simply grown tired, come back. Jesus hasn’t moved. He still calls your name.

Let your life be a light that points to Jesus, because the world still needs Him… The world still needs Him - and He still chooses to work through people who say yes. Amen