The Pointer December 2021 - January 2022
Rector The Rt Rev Darren McCartney 028 4175 3497 suffragan1@gmail.com
The Magazine of the Church of Ireland Parishes of Clonallon & Warrenpoint with Kilbroney in the Diocese of Down and Dromore As we move into Advent, we can sometimes find ourselves a little conflicted as our thinking often goes to Christ’s second coming and also that of his first, as a baby in the manger. Last week I found myself reflecting on an image in an earlier Pointer. The image has a star over a stable. Between the star and the top of the manger the following is written “The first Christmas was pretty simple. It’s okay if yours is too.” I find these words loaded with such wisdom and meaning. As we gaze upon the image we are drawn to the light from within the manger and three silhouettes. Mary is kneeling and praying. We see a stronger glow emanating from the slight glimpse of the baby Jesus from within the manger and in the centre of the picture. The third silhouette would appear to be that of Joseph as he also gazes upon the sight of the child within the manger. Moving out from the centre, to outside the stable, we see other silhouettes and they are of animals also looking on. A basic picture, yet it has the ability, to draw us in to the centre, towards the light of Jesus. Thinking upon the light and the darkness I am reminded of a story an old priest told me in Canada. The priest was old, and he didn’t know, at the time of his sharing with me, that he was coming close to the end of his earthy life. As we sat and chatted, he started to think back to when he was newly ordained and teaching in a school.
He told me of an old Irish monsignor who asked him to help him visit those who were living rough. The old monsignor called for him and they set off on their night visits. They came to a particular old building that had been part of a factory at a time. They both went inside and way off in the distance, the glow of a single bulb. As they got closer, the smell started to fill their nostrils. The monsignor warmly greeted the old black man, who had made this place his shelter. The monsignor was concerned for the man and the sight of his infected leg stumps. The monsignor informed the young priest that he needed to go get his car and take the man to the hospital and off he goes leaving him alone with the man. The old priest in front of me starts to cry. He continues his story. He said the man reached up to him and asked him to lift him. He tells me that at this moment he froze, the sight, the smells were overpowering. In this moment of hesitating, the old man, with outstretched arms say, “Jesus would lift me.” The old priest, in front of me, is in tears as he remembers and through his tears, he tells me that since that moment he has also sought to try and lift people. Jesus comes to us. He comes to a world that is messed up in so many places and so many ways and yet he comes. He comes to us in love, and he comes to lift us up. The idea of being lifted reminds me of what the Psalmist wrote in Psalm 40 1I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. 2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. 3 He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him. My prayer, this Christmas, is that we would allow Jesus to lift us up and that we would do all we can to lift others up. Blessings +Darren