Christmas Midnight Mass: 24.12.2025
Blessing of Crib:
Mary will you take this baby boy
Mary will you take this baby boy
Will you fill the world with love and joy
Will you take this baby boy?
Mary will you go to the little town
Mary will you go to the little town
Will you find a manger to lay Him down
Will you go to the little town?
Mary will you show your little son
Mary will you show your little son
To the kings on whom the star has shone
Will you show your little son?
Mary will you tell him we love him so
Mary will you tell him we love him so
Will you tell him we would like to show
That we love him, love him so?
Let us pray …
We pray, Father, that you bless this crib
May it inspire all who visit it with the memory of your love.
May it brighten the hearts of the people of the Cathedral Parish and of our Diocese who are tuning in on the webcam, and lighten their burdens.
You have already done so much for us; may the memory of this open our hearts to all the great things you still want to do for us.
May there always be room in our hearts for your Son, and for all your children in need. He who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever. Amen.
Introductory Words:
You are most welcome as we gather together for Midnight Mass as distinct from Mass at Midnight. Those who have returned to be with family at Christmas here in Carlow, I hope you feel a welcome also in our Cathedral with your faith family.
For many of you this building, this sacred place, this mother church of our diocese has a deep sacramental connection in your lives; being here for Christmas is especially important. To all of you I say Welcome, Cead Míle Fáilte, Bienvenue, Benvenuto, Willkommen, Witaj.
The exactitude in detail of Luke’s gospel is chilling; it’s message profound and comforting. How could anyone not have the gift of faith as we look on the infant in the manger?
“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy for all the people”[1] was the message of the angel to the shepherds, as it had been nine months earlier to Mary. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, yet that angelic proclamation two thousand years ago offers huge comfort. Let us who have walked in darkness not be afraid of this great light that now shines on us.
- Lord Jesus, this night you have made our gladness greater. Lord, have mercy …
- Lord Jesus, this night you have made our joy increase. Christ, have mercy …
- Lord Jesus, this night we rejoice in your presence. Lord, have mercy …
Welcoming the light of Bethlehem:
I welcome a tangible link between our ceremony here and Christmas in Bethlehem. Within a so called cease-fire and in the darkness of several power cuts, He still comes. In the brokenness of our world, He comes. In the destruction we choose, He still comes to bring hope. When we are bent on tearing down, He comes to build back up. The light of Bethlehem, taken from there six years ago, has been minded by the Poor Clare’s and is brought by the Scouts all over the country.
Homily:
I was researching carols this morning, I wanted to find ones that speak to those who were associated with the nativity, to see it from their perspective, to stand in their stead! I came across ‘The Donkey Carol’ written by John Rutter and performed by no less than the Cambridge Singers:
Donkey riding over the bumpy road,
Carry Mary, all with her heavy load;
Follow Joseph, leading you on your way
Until you find a stable, somewhere to rest and stay.
And of course the Angels who saw and see everything, ‘Angels We Have Heard on High’, an eighteenth century French carol, with English lyrics by James Chadwick:
Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing
Come, adore on bended knew
The infant Christ, the new-born King
Then there is that little boy who forgot his gift as he made his way to the stable. He was a drummer boy! And so we have ‘The Carol of the Drum’ or ‘The Drummer Boy’. It was the carol you might remember from a School Nativity Play, you hadn’t a note but sure a kind teacher assured you, you had rhythm! And since then you’ve been thinking it’s a pity U2, Moving Hearts, Kodaline or Kingfishr never signed you up!
Come they told me, pa rum pum pum pum
A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,
So to honor Him, pa rum pum pum pum,
When we come.
We have come to the Cathedral for our Midnight Mass. We are all part of a family, our own and God’s. Christmas invites us to really be part of His family. We sometimes miss that Jesus was a young baby born to migrant parents in a borrowed stable. When baby Jesus came into this world it was in someone else’s stable, when the thirty-three year old Jesus is buried it’s in someone else’s tomb.
Family means everything to us, but sometimes family life can be a little scratchy around the edges, be gentle with one another these days. Family can be sacred ground, walk gently with one another.
The disturbing messages from Gaza and Ukraine remain. Jesus is born everywhere, and where we are most broken, we can be sure He is there.
Baby Jesus, pa rum pum pum pum
I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum pum
I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum
That’s fit to give the King, pa rum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,
Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum,
On my drum?
Most of us erect our cribs, with soft lighting, arranging the figurines ever so gently, for fear we might dehorn the ox or clip a wing off an angel. There is a familiarity to our cribs, there is comfort in that. And yet the nativity was anything but tidy, neat, ordered. We have sanitised the stable where Jesus was born. We have made it very comfortable and homely, yet the gospel talks about complete upheaval as a census is called. Mary and Joseph were caught pretty much unawares. There could be no forward planning or decent maternity care, they had to settle for a stable, an outhouse, a shed, a tent. The shepherds arrive in from the fields. They were simple people who were first to welcome the new born Jesus.
Mary nodded, pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
There is a nativity scene in St. Susanna’s Parish Church near Boston where it remains empty, except for the sign ‘ICE was here’, suggesting that the Holy Family were safe in the sanctuary of their church. It is intended to reflect the context where Jesus would be coming into the world today. It disturbs many, on both sides of the argument. And returning to the comfort a crib scene offers, this message certain ruffles feathers. No different than a nativity scene that might be erected on the area of the West Bank which is earmarked for the creation of 19 new Israeli settlements. Or as at Bethlehem’s Lutheran church back two years ago and the sign “If Jesus was born today, he’d be born under the rubble of Gaza”.
We shouldn’t be too surprised if we take a deeper dive into Luke’s Nativity account. It was an incredibly disruptive time. A census then as now is precise and demanding. We should apologise tonight to all inn-keepers, who get a raw deal in every school nativity play. There is no mention of an inn-keeper turning anyone away in Luke’s text. We may be too busy constructing a crib to suit our own narrative, the Holy Family were not turned way. In fact The Jerome Biblical Commentary reminds us the word used is ‘katalyma’ meaning guest room, it was usually upstairs space in the cave where the family lived. Because that space was fully occupied, or at least didn’t afford enough privacy, Joseph brought Mary into the cave where the livestock ordinarily rested. Remember Bethlehem was a small place, just think of the carol ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie … ‘ The word ‘katalyma’ is used twice by St. Luke, also when Jesus sends the disciples to prepare a room for the Passover.
And God accepts this place to be born, to make space for the stranger. He enters our lives when our schedules are full, our diaries are packed, our agendas are set. Still he finds room. Still He is born. And still we are slow to acknowledge Him as our Lord, our King, our Saviour.
Come they told me, pa rum pum pum pum
A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,
So to honor Him, pa rum pum pum pum,
When we come.
May you all be filled with the wonder of Mary,
The obedience of Joseph, the joy of the angels,
The eagerness of the shepherds, the determination of the wise men,
And the peace of the Child Jesus this Christmas.
Post Communion Reflection:
Letters to the Editor, The Times • December 13, 2004
From the Reverend Stephen E. Heard
Sir, The problem with the Beckham Nativity scene (letters, December 9) is the fact not that the characters are ordinary, but that they aren’t.
The ordinariness of most of the figures in the Gospel story is what makes it acceptable to dress children up as angels or shepherds, or to portray the local butcher as a wise man. Depicting them as celebrities suggests that the Incarnation is some sort of media event, removed from the lives of ordinary folk. This, of course, is the very opposite of the meaning.
Yours faithfully,
STEPHEN E. HEARD,
43 Speed House, Barbican, EC2Y 8AT.
December 10.
[1] Lk.2:10