14 December 2025

Christmas  is a celebration of our vulnerability. How did God consider such a wise and simple plan? The baby lying in a manger embraces our humanity in all its vulnerability. If you look more closely at this familiar scene, you will notice that the shadow of death envelopes the Christchild.

There’s Herod and the sharpness of his wintry vanity and cruelty. There’s Simeon who perceives the grief ahead, ‘Sorrow, like a sharp sword, will break your own heart.’ he says to Mary. Anna, married for only seven years and now eighty-four, is living witness to the resurrection, finding new life in her grief.

And there’s Elizabeth. She did not experience death but there was a death within her. She was barren. Her barrenness is the opening symbol of the gospel. Like the wilderness and the dry land, she rejoiced in the birth of a son whose home became the desert. His name was John, the Baptist!

‘The desert shall rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly.’ Out of the barrenness of Elizabeth’s womb, a child is born. Out of the grief of a long widowhood, Anna’s faith is strengthened. Out of the shadow of death, an old man dies in peace because he has seen the salvation of our God.

The desert shall rejoice. Why? What does Isaiah say? ‘Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, ‘Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God.’  And what a God he turns out to be – sharing our vulnerability in manger and on cross, our barren desert, our bitter winter.