07.01.07 Steve Matthew 2:1-12 New dawns and different roads
I like New Year – that exciting time when I look through my in-tray – and discover all sorts of forgotten treasures. It really is an opportunity to 'start again' – which is crazy, in a way, because I could stop and think about what I'm doing, and if could do it in a better way, at any stage of the year. I guess there really are efficient people out there who do that every Monday morning. I saw a splendid New Year article this week in The Independent about how, statistically speaking, there are better days than others to do certain things. For example, a few tips for you for 2007....
Sunday – is the best day to go to the supermarket.... a recent survey showed that availability nationally of a wide range of products was at its highest (98%) on a Sunday (lowest on a Monday). Monday is the worst day on lots of parameters it seems – melancholy peaks according to Government figures – a study by the Office for National Statistics showed that from 1993-2002 more suicides occurred on a Monday than any other day (about 16% of the total, compared with 13% at the weekend).
Tuesday
– is the day to get important jobs done – a study by the US Soc
of Industrial Psychology said our rational 'left' brain dominates
thinking early in the week – better for routine, non-social jobs.
After the 'miserable Monday' washout, Tuesday heralds the true start
to the working week.
Wednesday
– a good day for first dates, according to online dating websites.
The best day for job ads according to recruitment agency eQuest which
finds that 18% of activity on job pages happens on Wednesday compared
to 12% on Fridays. Sales prices are higher on Ebay auctions than on
other days.
Thursday –
bad day to be admitted to hospital (according to Institute of Public
Policy Research) because your stay will be on average 6.3 days as
opposed to 5. something days).
Friday – statistically a bad day – according to a survey by Continental Tyres in November, more road accidents happen on Friday than any other day – known as the 'fatal Friday' phenomenon – it is worst in November during evening rush hour with 2454 accidents happening between 4 and 5pm (35% more than the morning rush hour, and a 10% increase on the same period in October). Friday is also the day your most likely to be sacked.
Saturday – not much to report except that it's a good day for getting married (Govt stats showed in 2003 that 61% took place on a Saturday, with only 3% on a Tuesday – CofE reported 87% on a Saturday and 0.3% on Tuesday).
So there are good times to do some things more than others, and New Year fits pretty well for being the time to reassess and to plan anew. Partly, perhaps, because it's a new year, but maybe also for Christians, because we see our lives each year, in the light of the light.... having dwelt again on the retelling of the great stories of the coming of the light of Christ into the world – 'the dayspring from on high', says Simeon, 'has come upon us' – a new dawn.
60:1
Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has
risen upon you.
60:2 For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you.
...says the prophet – poetry, seized upon by the Christians who read them hundreds of years after they were written. One of the fascinating things about being in the countryside as I have this past week, is the power of the struggle between the light and the darkness. There's a whole lot of darkness – gloomy days are damn gloomy – the day hardly lifts its head off the ground – and it's impossible not to be affected by that (which is why in our urban environments we go completely mad lighting the place up – mind boggling use of electricity to create such concentrations of artificial light it can be seen from space). And yet this week we also had a few splendid days of low winter sun – firing horizontal beams of golden light at spectacular angles – through the myriad lattice work of dark trees and colouring the hills with vibrant deep, deep greens and red, red-browns of bracken and heather. A friend came to visit from the plains of Alberta (are there plains in Alberta?), 'Look at the colours' she said.... 'huh?' said we. She shrugged off our Scottish grumbles and apologies about the winter gloom with excited appreciation of what she saw as a patchwork panoply of hues.
We
all have our darknesses that cover us – I don't need to list
examples – personal things, global things. I spoke with a visitor
here at one of our Christmas services who was describing feeling just
weighed down and depressed with the state of the world – never mind
any personal circumstances. And this is perfectly understandable –
a good sign, you might say, of a soul that is sensitive to the
realities of other people's lives over and above his/her own. But
what difference does the coming of the light of Christ make? It is
the inevitability, I think, of the light to dispel the dark. Long
dark nights of the soul, of aloneness, or at a bedside, can be the
lowest low of human experience.... but the dawn will certainly come,
creation's big metaphor for the eternal cycle of the love of the
creator. Because of the love of God, manifested in Christ, the
dawn of human kindness will always come ('delivering the needy when
they call, the poor and those who have no helper' as our psalmist
today has it);
the dawn of birth after the shadow of death;
the
dawn of arriving somewhere anew after the gloom and regret of
leaving;
the dawn of forgiveness and welcome as a life-choice in
a climate of fear and intolerance;
the dawn of creativity and discovery, after the stagnation of set ways;
Because of the love of God, the voice of Christ in St John's Revelation saying 'behold, I make all thing new'.
Down
in the Lowther Hills this week we have been stripping out an old
cottage – knocking down walls, pulling off ancient lathe and
plaster to reveal staggeringly thick walls created from sandstone and
flint rocks, loosely bound in lime. We think it might be as much as
500 years old. There's something profound and moving about revealing
to the light glorious salmon-pink sandstone that has been concealed
for so long, the walls, the amazing work of human hands covered by
darkness for so many generations. And now the light has come – the
beauty is revealed – new life – new possibilities – new
enjoyment and enrichment of/by the ingenuity of human hands which
imitate in their own humble way the panorama of god's creation,
visible now in a new way. What RS Thomas calls “a leakage from
God's mind into the minds of
our inventors
By
virtue of a small leakage from my mind, I missed off on the service
sheet the last and significant verses from the story in Matthew's
gospel:
2:11 On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
2:12 And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.
Let's
go on like wise ones into the New Year, looking for new dawns,
travelling, where necessary, by a different road.