Christmas Messages - Rome, Constantinople, Jerusalem and Canterbury

Pope Francis:

Dear Brothers and Sisters, 

Merry Christmas!

The eyes and the hearts of Christians throughout the world turn to Bethlehem; in these days, it is a place of sorrow and silence, yet it was there that the long-awaited message was first proclaimed: “To you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord” (Lk 2:11). Those words spoken by the angel in the heavens above Bethlehem are also spoken to us. We are full of hope and trust as we realize that the Lord has been born for us; that the eternal Word of the Father, the infinite God, has made his home among us. He became flesh; he came “to dwell among us” (Jn 1:14). This is the good news that changed the course of history!

The message of Bethlehem is indeed “good news of great joy” (Lk 2:10). What kind of joy? Not the passing happiness of this world, not the glee of entertainment but a joy that is “great” because it makes us great. For today, all of us, with all our shortcomings, embrace the sure promise of an unprecedented gift: the hope of being born for heaven. Yes, Jesus our brother has come to make his Father our Father; a small child, he reveals to us the tender love of God, and much more. He, the Only-Begotten Son of the Father, gives us “power to become children of God” (Jn 1:12). This is the joy that consoles hearts, renews hope and bestows peace. It is the joy of the Holy Spirit: the joy born of being God’s beloved sons and daughters.

Brothers and sisters, today in Bethlehem, amid the deep shadows covering the land, an undying flame has been lighted. Today the world’s darkness has been overcome by the light of God, which “enlightens every man and woman” (Jn 1:9). Brothers and sisters, let us exult in this gift of grace! Rejoice, you who have lost confidence in your certitudes, for you are not alone: Christ is born for you! Rejoice, you who have abandoned all hope, for God offers you his outstretched hand; he does not point a finger at you, but offers you his little baby hand, in order to set you free from your fears, to relieve you of your burdens and to show you that, in his eyes, you are more valuable than anything else. Rejoice, you who find no peace of heart, for the ancient prophecy of Isaiah has been fulfilled for your sake: “a child has been born for us, a son given to us, and he is named… Prince of Peace” (9:6). Scripture reveals that his peace, his kingdom, “will have no end” (9:7).

In the Scriptures, the Prince of Peace is opposed by the “Prince of this world” (Jn 12:31), who, by sowing the seeds of death, plots against the Lord, “the lover of life” (cf. Wis 11:26). We see this played out in Bethlehem, where the birth of the Saviour is followed by the slaughter of the innocents. How many innocents are being slaughtered in our world! In their mothers’ wombs, in odysseys undertaken in desperation and in search of hope, in the lives of all those little ones whose childhood has been devastated by war. They are the little Jesuses of today, these little ones whose childhood has been devastated by war.

To say “yes” to the Prince of Peace, then, means saying “no” to war, to every war and to do so with courage, to the very mindset of war, an aimless voyage, a defeat without victors, an inexcusable folly. This is what war is: an aimless voyage, a defeat without victors, an inexcusable folly. To say “no” to war means saying “no” to weaponry. The human heart is weak and impulsive; if we find instruments of death in our hands, sooner or later we will use them. And how can we even speak of peace, when arms production, sales and trade are on the rise? Today, as at the time of Herod, the evil that opposes God’s light hatches its plots in the shadows of hypocrisy and concealment. How much violence and killing takes place amid deafening silence, unbeknownst to many! People, who desire not weapons but bread, who struggle to make ends meet and desire only peace, have no idea how many public funds are being spent on arms. Yet that is something they ought to know! It should be talked about and written about, so as to bring to light the interests and the profits that move the puppet-strings of war.

Isaiah, who prophesied the Prince of Peace, looked forward to a day when “nation shall not lift up sword against nation”, a day when men “will not learn war any more”, but instead “beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks” (2:4). With God’s help, let us make every effort to work for the coming of that day!

May it come in Israel and Palestine, where war is devastating the lives of those peoples. I embrace them all, particularly the Christian communities of Gaza, the parish of Gaza, and the entire Holy Land. My heart grieves for the victims of the abominable attack of 7 October last, and I reiterate my urgent appeal for the liberation of those still being held hostage. I plead for an end to the military operations with their appalling harvest of innocent civilian victims, and call for a solution to the desperate humanitarian situation by an opening to the provision of humanitarian aid. May there be an end to the fueling of violence and hatred. And may the Palestinian question come to be resolved through sincere and persevering dialogue between the parties, sustained by strong political will and the support of the international community. Brothers and sisters, let us pray for peace in Palestine and in Israel.

My thoughts turn likewise to the people of war-torn Syria, and to those of long-suffering Yemen. I think too of the beloved Lebanese people, and I pray that political and social stability will soon be attained.

Contemplating the Baby Jesus, I implore peace for Ukraine. Let us renew our spiritual and human closeness to its embattled people, so that through the support of each of us, they may feel the concrete reality of God’s love.

May the day of definitive peace between Armenia and Azerbaijan draw near. May it be advanced by the pursuit of humanitarian initiatives, by the return of refugees to their homes in legality and security, and by reciprocal respect for religious traditions and the places of worship of each community.

Let us not forget the tensions and conflicts that trouble the region of the Sahel, the Horn of Africa and Sudan, as well as Cameroon, the Democratic Republic of the Congo and South Sudan.

May the day draw near when fraternal bonds will be consolidated on the Korean peninsula by undertaking processes of dialogue and reconciliation capable of creating the conditions for lasting peace.

May the Son of God, who became a lowly Child, inspire political authorities and all persons of good will in the Americas to devise suitable ways to resolve social and political conflicts, to combat forms of poverty that offend the dignity of persons, to reduce inequality and to address the troubling phenomenon of migration movements.

From the manger, the Child Jesus asks us to be the voice of those who have no voice. The voice of the innocent children who have died for lack of bread and water; the voice of those who cannot find work or who have lost their jobs; the voice of those forced to flee their lands in search of a better future, risking their lives in grueling journeys and prey to unscrupulous traffickers.

Brothers and sisters, we are approaching the season of grace and hope that is the Jubilee, due to begin a year from now. May this time of preparation for the Holy Year be an opportunity for the conversion of hearts, for the rejection of war and the embrace of peace, and for joyfully responding to the Lord’s call, in the words of Isaiah’s prophecy, “to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners” (61:1).

Those words were fulfilled in Jesus (cf. Lk 4:18), who is born today in Bethlehem. Let us welcome him! Let us open our hearts to him, who is the Saviour, the Prince of Peace!

 Bartholomew of Constantinople

With the grace of God, we are once again this year celebrating in chant, hymn, and spiritual song the Nativity according to the flesh of the pre-eternal Son and Word of God, namely the manifestation of the mystery of God and humankind. According to St. Nicholas Cabasilas, what occurs in the Divine Liturgy is “the mystagogy of the Lord’s incarnation,” while its introductory acclamation “Blessed is the Kingdom of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” is evidence “that it is through the Lord’s incarnation that people first learned that God is three persons.”[1] The same saintly Father proclaims that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ was the first and only to demonstrate the authentic and perfect human being, concerning His ethos, life, and everything else.”[2]

The assumption of human nature in the person of the Son and Word of God, along with the opening of the way of human deification through grace, add unsurpassable value to humankind. Forgetting this truth leads to the diminishment of respect for the human person. The denial of the supreme destiny of human beings does not only liberate them, but also leads to diverse reductions and divisions. Without being conscious of their divine origin and their hope for eternity, humans struggle to remain human and are unable to handle the contradictions of the “human condition.”

The Christian perception of human existence provides a solution to problems created by violence, war, and injustice in our world. Respect for the human person, peace, and justice are gifts from God; however, establishing the peace that comes from Christ demands the participation and cooperation of human beings. The Christian view on the struggle for peace lies in the words of Christ our Savior, who proclaims peace, addressing His disciples with the greeting “Peace be with you” and encouraging us to love our enemies. The revelation in Christ is called the “gospel of peace.”

This means that, for us Christians, the way to peace is through peace and that non-violence, dialogue, love, forgiveness, and reconciliation have priority before other forms of resolving differences. The theology of peace is clearly described in the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s document For the Life of the World: Toward a Social Ethos of the Orthodox Church (2020):

“Nothing is more contrary to God’s will for His creatures fashioned in His image and likeness than violence one against another . . . We may justly say that violence is sin par excellence. It is the perfect contradiction of our created nature and our supernatural vocation to seek union in love with God and our neighbour. . . Peace is a real revelation of the still deeper reality of creation as God intends it and as God fashioned it in his eternal counsels.”

Peace cannot be taken for granted; it is not self-evident. It is an obligation, an achievement, and an incessant struggle to preserve it. There are no automatic solutions or permanent recipes. In the face of ongoing threats to peace, we need to have vigilance and willingness to resolve problems through dialogue. The great heroes of politics are the champions of peace. As for us, we continue to underline the peacemaking role of religion. This is during a time when religions are criticized for nurturing fanaticism and violence “in the name of God” instead of being forces of peace, solidarity, and reconciliation. However, this indicates an alienation of religious faith and not an integral part of it. Genuine faith in God is the harshest critic of religious fanaticism. Religions are the natural allies of all human beings who strive for peace, justice, and the preservation of creation from human destruction.

This year, the world honours the 75^th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (December 10, 1948), constituting a summary of fundamental humanitarian ideals and values, “the shared standard, to which all peoples and all nations should aim.” Human rights, whose central point of focus includes the protection of human dignity with its individual, social, cultural, economic, and ecological conditions, are only understood in their original dynamics if they are acknowledged as the basis and criterion of global peace, associating it with freedom and justice. In this sense, the future of human rights and peace is also linked to the contribution of religions in the matter of respecting them and making them a reality.

With these thoughts and festive sentiments, in full conviction that the life of the Church in itself comprises resistance against inhumanity, wherever such inhumanity arises, we invite all of you to the good fight of constructing a culture of peace and solidarity, where people will see in the face of their fellow human beings a brother or sister and a friend, rather than a threat and enemy. Moreover, we remind you all, dear brother Hierarchs and children, that Christmas is a time of self-consciousness and thanksgiving, of the revelation of the difference between the God-man and “man-god,” of the realization of the “great miracle” of freedom in Christ and of the healing of the “great wound” of alienation from God. Finally, we kneel respectfully before Mary, the Mother of God, who bears in her arms the incarnate Word, and we convey to you the blessing of the Mother Holy Great Church of Christ, wishing you an auspicious, healthy, fruitful, peaceful, and joyous new year of the Lord’s favour.

Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury:

Come Holy Spirit of God and fill our hearts with the love of the Christ-child and the flame of your spirit. 

Amen.

This year, the skies of Bethlehem are full of fear rather than angels and glory.  

Ukraine hears the wails of the sirens. Sudan and South Sudan ring with warning and terror. Around the world, we are beset with violence.

The skies that rang with the angels on that first Christmas also heard the cries of despair, pain and suffering. 

What is God’s answer? The cries of a newborn. Far below wing-born angels, wondering shepherds, wandering magi, lies a child. 

Today a crying child is in a manger somewhere in the world, nobody willing or able to help his parents, or her parents, who so desperately need shelter. Or perhaps lying in an incubator, in a hospital low on electricity, like the Anglican Al-Ahli hospital in Gaza, surrounded by suffering and death.

Maybe the newborn lies in a house that still bears the marks of the horrors of October the 7th, with family members killed, and a mother who counted her life as lost. Or maybe they're not a newborn, but someone thinking of next term, having again to hide their Jewishness on their way to school in this country, or a playgroup in our own cities, fearful of the age-old atrocious sin of antisemitism.

When we look at the news, when we read, do we say to ourselves, is the Christmas story a wonderful dream, an beautiful  illusion? Or is it in fact God’s sovereign plan and purpose: is it a reality to be lived now, daily, in our experience?

Like an inconspicuous signpost overgrown by the verges of a country road, so easily missed, ignored, untrusted, that child of Bethlehem 2000 years ago points to a different way for each of us and for our world.

Such was that child's impact that 2,000 years later, in our culture it seemed natural and right for a King in royal robes to answer a child, “I come not to be served, but to serve” – and we know that that is the right way to be a King. From Joseph in Egypt to Jesus in Bethlehem, to Charles at Westminster Abbey, great leadership is seen in serving, not being served; in self-emptying, not seeking power.

In serving, not in being served, we resolve the problems of climate, the threats and realities of war, the malevolence of terrorism, the injustice of economic inequality, antisemitism, Islamophobia, racism, whatever else is dissolved in the sweet scent of those who serve. 

Jesus Christ challenges a power and wealth obsessed world, where strength is always met by other strength, red in tooth and claw. The baby’s cry is God’s voice saying that there is another way. “Seek to serve, not to be served”. The dream that we see in this Christmas story is a reality that outflanks both the power and the wisdom of our world. It is more powerful, more enduring, more real. Its price is faith and trust in Jesus Christ, the Christ-child, the baby. 

Earlier this year, I visited a borough in Philadelphia called Kensington. It is one of the most deprived places in the United States. People are huddled over on the street from the effects of drug abuse, three or four deep by the edge of the pavement, shooting up. Children walk to school past the bodies of those who have died. Violence and crime are rampant.

A man called Pastor Shane Claiborne lives there. He leads a church called the Community of the Simple Way. And one of the things they do in a big bin outside their front door, is take in guns. They melt them down, and they turn them into household implements, or crosses. One of those cross is what I’m wearing today. It was an automatic rifle, a weapon of violence, of fear, of death, and it is transformed - into a sign of hope and life. They also transform derelict buildings into homes. Through their service they transform broken lives into restored dignity. Today, as we sit here.

That transformation begins in the chaos of a drug ridden; gun violence beset inner city. To unseeing eyes, the lowest part of a great city. The revelation of the birth of Jesus is made to shepherds, the lowest of Israel. Good shepherds guarded and preserved their sheep, were serving not being served. Bad shepherds were those who expected to be served not to serve. The Magi, the Kings, they were from far away, outside the people of God, the outsiders who came to worship because they found the God who sought to serve not to be served.

Today in Philadelphia, Canterbury, in Kyiv, even in Gaza, God himself breaks into our world and shatters the chains of violence, pride and ambition that hold us prisoner. He shows us a different kind of victory because he meets our violence with his vulnerability. He confronts our cruelty with his compassion. He responds to our selfishness with service. 

When the angels return to heaven, Jesus stays with us. When Jesus ascends, he creates the church, full of the Holy Spirit of God, to be Jesus to today’s world. God shows us a role to play in his story, and that role is to serve, not to be served. 

This is God’s answer to the questions about his power - a helpless baby in a country in war. It makes no sense to us. The story of the first Christmas is a scandal: God, the creator of the universe, entered his creation as a child. In our world power looks like dominance. We feel that what has been will always be. Hope is fleeting and only for the privileged few. The baby’s cry offers us an alternative vision: the invitation into that vision is from God himself to us. The choice as to what we do with that invitation is for us to take. Our decision matters, accepting that invitation opens the floodgates of transformation.

It is the transformation that will come in the power of God from living under skies wracked by our weeping, to skies lit up by the joyful heavenly chorus. 

So today, we must, as God's people around the world, as in that text from the church leaders and patriarchs in Jerusalem, printed out for you in the service sheet, gathered as one in a way that they have not been for half a millennium or more, sitting as one, shoulder to shoulder in these times, we must join with them in appealing to Prime Ministers and Presidents, to tyrants and despots, to warriors and warlords around the world, to leaders in every place at every level, to families, to mayors, to MPs, to every individual.

Our appeal is simply this. Change. Be transformed. It is within your gift. For that child will return as our judge and their judge, the leaders judge. And the test of that judgement will not be ability or success, or fame or names on boards of past Archbishops, or fortune, however great. But that test will be a question. Do you, do we, do leaders, let this God who made Himself child become our model, our leader, our power, our form of transformation? Will that cry be heard? Not from here. Not by itself, it will be carried away in the howling hurricanes of suffering and cruelty, of pride and domination that is the world's model of leadership. 

Will it be heard in 2024, as we have more people involved in democratic elections than in any year in human history. Not by itself. 

The world favours the rich, successful and powerful – because of the lie, the great lie that in those things we will find fulfilment and eternal life. But our cry, the cry of the people who pray to God will be heard through the work of the Spirit. And as we pray today we trust that God. For God shows that true fulfilment, eternal life, purpose in this world is found in serving not being served. It is the promise of Kings at their coronation, of priests and bishops when they are consecrated, of the armed forces and the police. Serving is the practice of good families and households, the roots of a good marriage, the strength of great friendships.

Will we accept that things will always be the way they are and be carried along the river of times events?   

Or will we, and those around the world who see the Christ-child, poor and rich, Kings, Magi, the wise, the poverty-stricken, the weak, will we with a simple yes to God, with the shepherds and the Magi, step into something new, into the life of the child in the manger, the child King who transforms the world? 

Amen. 

Patriarchs and Heads of the Churches in Jerusalem

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government will be upon his shoulder, and his name will be called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace”. (Isaiah 9:6)

We, the Patriarchs and Heads of the Churches in Jerusalem, convey our Christmas greetings to the faithful around the world in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, born here in Bethlehem more than two-thousand years ago.

In extending these greetings, we are well aware that we do so during a time of great calamity in the land of our Lord’s birth. For over the past two-and-a-half months, the violence of warfare has led to unimaginable suffering for literally millions in our beloved Holy Land. Its ongoing horrors have brought misery and inconsolable sorrow to countless families throughout our region, evoking empathetic cries of anguish from all quarters of the earth. For those caught in the midst of such dire circumstances, hope seems distant and beyond reach.

Yet it was into such a world that our Lord himself was born in order to give us hope. Here, we must remember that during the first Christmas, the situation was not far removed from that of today. Thus the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph had difficulty finding a place for their son’s birth. There was the killing of children. There was military occupation. And there was the Holy Family becoming displaced as refugees. Outwardly, there was no reason for celebration other than the birth of the Lord Jesus.

Nevertheless, in the midst of such sin and sorrow, the Angel appeared to the shepherds announcing a message of hope and joy for all the world: “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10–11).

In Christ’s Incarnation, the Almighty came to us as Immanuel, “God with us” (Matthew 1:23), in order to save, redeem, and transform us. This was to fulfil the words of the Prophet Isaiah: “The LORD has anointed me . . . to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favour” (Isaiah 61:1–2a; Luke 4:18–19).

This is the divine message of hope and peace that Christ’s Nativity inspires within us, even in the midst of suffering. For Christ himself was born and lived amid great suffering. Indeed, he suffered for our sake, even unto death upon a cross, in order that the light of hope would shine into the world, overcoming the darkness (John 1:5).

It is in this spirit of Christmas that We, the Patriarchs and Heads of the Churches in Jerusalem, denounce all violent actions and call for their end. We likewise call upon the people of this land and around the globe to seek the graces of God so that we might learn to walk with each other in the paths of justice, mercy, and peace. Finally, we bid the faithful and all those of goodwill to work tirelessly for the relief of the afflicted and towards a just and lasting peace in this land that is equally sacred to the three Monotheistic Faiths.

In these ways, the hope of Christmas will indeed be born once again, beginning in Bethlehem and extending from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth—thus realizing the comforting words of Zechariah, that “the dawn from on high will break upon us to give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death, guiding our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:78–79).