Christmas Day Year A

Over recent weeks I have found myself speaking with a number of people who described themselves as weary. Weary with the international situation; weary with the grind of juggling conflicting demands on a daily basis; weary of the demands of being a carer. I could go on but you get the idea and I’m sure each one of you could fill in the dots in an unfinished sentence. That deep weariness was what first attracted me to the painting that I’ve shared with you this morning. Mary and Joseph are exhausted. It’s a very different take on the Holy Family from the rather charming pictures we usually find in nativity scenes. It portrays something that strikes me as much more honest. Those of us who are parents can immediately relate to the posture before us. We know what it feels like to be bone tired – to be simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated. These aren’t characters from a historic novel; these are real people who lived their lives in the real world.

The artist is Francis Hoyland, who painted this in 1961. So let’s take a look at what was important for him then, and see how much of it might be important for us today.
In the top left corner is the announcement to the shepherds. We can perhaps see a sense of urgency in that small square. The figure in white, who I see as an angel, is giving a very clear direction. Go. Move. Get on with it. The angel. The messenger. The one bringing a message of hope. Hope is something that we may find ourselves struggling to find at the moment. But there are signs of hope around us if we can only spot them. This little section of painting reminds me of a cartoon that was in one of the newspapers last week. It was entitled light in the darkness and showed the man who tackled the shooter at Bondi beach, portrayed in a similar way to this angel in radiant white, propelled into a scene that was dark and unwelcoming. That man gave hope to so many people.

Another inspiring story came out of Bondi beach – less well covered by the media perhaps, but equally inspiring. A 14 year old girl was hiding under a bench when she heard a mother screaming for help for her young children. That teenager risked her own safety to crawl over and cover the toddlers’ bodies with her own. That story is a reminder of the inherent goodness within people, and the potential we all have to put aside our selfish best interests and act in a way that puts others first.

The top right hand corner of the painting depicts the three kings. They are a real contrast to the imagery we usually see of the Magi. These kings or seers are a pretty scruffy bunch. They are making their way through Lickey Woods in Birmingham which is where the artist lives. The three characters with their backpacks aren’t heading towards a star or an inviting ray of light but rather towards something that looks remarkably like an active fire. Heading towards a place where change is happening in the moment. A place where the oxygen is creating movement and life and activity – and danger. A bit like the man at Bondi beach, they too are heading into the unknown. But moving with conviction and a sense of purpose, finding themselves compelled to keep going.

Directly below those travellers we have the Holy Family fleeing through Richmond Park. A family in a hurry. One parent pushing the buggy, the other carrying their baby. No time to waste. I see an image of any number of displaced families. The scenery may differ but the substance is no different – in Gaza; in Ukraine; in Congo. Parents desperately trying to find a place of safety for themselves and their child. Parents who know that to stop is dangerous, even more dangerous than to keep going.

The remaining two images both portray the slaughter of the innocents, the narrative that powerful rulers will do anything to deal with those who threaten their position. The smaller section, below the shepherds depicts the aftermath of a nuclear attack, with a dead baby lying in the foreground and the world on fire. The base of the painting is a depiction of the situation in Congo in 1961, which was in the midst of the crisis that ensued after the end of Belgian colonial rule in that part of the world.

We’re looking at a painting from 64 years ago which depicts a world that is uncomfortably familiar. Congo is, yet again, in the midst of genocide. And if I’d told you that was a depiction of Sudan or Gaza or Ukraine – or any number of other places, you wouldn’t have been surprised. And we may well ask ourselves, what has changed in 64 years? And the answer, perhaps, is simultaneously not a lot and much. The ways that we access information about what’s happening in our world have changed, but the events that unfold in the world are remarkably similar. People continue to behave in ways that are at times unfathomable. And people continue to behave in ways that are mind blowingly generous. There were cruel people then, as now. There were altruistic people then, as now.

So how do we understand the Christmas story to be anything more than an ambition? A rather elaborate fairy tale with a built in feelgood factor? Let’s go back to the central image in our painting. To Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus. The parents are taking a well-deserved rest because they can. In contrast to the intensity of the scene with Mary and Joseph, the Christ child is bathed in light, and that section of painting has a serenity and other worldliness about it. It’s both a part of the whole and at the same time separate from it. And that says something important about the Christmas story. Jesus is both a part of the world and simultaneously set apart. He brings a message of hope and love and a reminder that humanity has the potential to behave differently, has the potential to initiate positive change.

One of the lessons we can pick up from this painting is that we choose where to focus our attention. I’m not suggesting that we ignore the weariness or the carnage that occupies most of this canvas, but I am suggesting that a moment comes when we can make a decision. We can immerse ourselves in the place that we, humanity have created; the place that drains us of life and leaves us feeling exhausted. Or we can lift our eyes towards the place that God has created; the place that offers love and hope and light. The place that promises us life in all its fullness.