25 December 2019
Moving beyond fiction
to the cost of real love
on Christmas Day
Christmas Day, Wednesday 25 December:
Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick
11 a.m.: The Christmas Eucharist (Holy Communion 2)
Readings: Isaiah 52: 7-10; Psalm 98; Hebrews 1: 1-4 (5-12); John 1: 1-14 (15-18)
May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen
My travels this year began in the deep mid-winter, in Prague.
Perhaps the best-known literary figure of the 20th century associated with the Czech capital is Franz Kafka (1883- 1924). He was born in Prague, and when he died near Vienna he was buried in Prague. His best-known novels were published after he died, and include The Trial (1925), The Castle (1926), and America (1927).
In Prague, we saw Kafka’s statue in Dusni Street beside the ‘Spanish Synagogue,’ the streets named after him, and a collection of items associated with Kafka in the ‘Spanish Synagogue,’ close to where he was born.
There, in the snow and the biting winter-cold, we were also reminded of the story, ‘Kafka and the Travelling Doll,’ written by the Catalan children’s writer Jordi Sierra i Fabra.
His story is based on a real-life event in the life of Franz Kafka, based on the memoirs of Dora Diamant. She had lived with Kafka in Berlin, and he died in her arms.
It may not immediately strike you as a Christian or Christmas story. But it is a story of incarnation, redemption and resurrection, a story of unconditional love, a story that reminds me of how ‘love came down at Christmas,’ and a story that reminds me why children should take centre stage during our Christmas celebrations.
There are many versions of this story of Kafka. And, I thought, rather than preaching a Christmas sermon this morning – because the Gospel reading is dramatic enough a Christmas story – that I would read a wonderful adaptation of the story for RTÉ a few years ago by Caitríona Ní Mhurchú:
One year before his death, Franz Kafka sees in one of Berlin’s parks, Steglitz City Park, a girl who is crying because she has lost her doll.
The writer calms her down by telling her that her doll had gone on a trip and that he, a doll postman, would take her a letter the next day.
Over 13 days, he brought a letter to the park every day in which the doll tells of her adventures, which he himself had written the night before.
‘Your doll has gone off on a trip,’ he said. ‘How do you know that?’ the girl asks.
‘Because she’s written me a letter,’ Kafka says.
The girl seems suspicious. ‘Do you have it on you?’ she asks.
‘No, I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I left it at home by mistake, but I’ll bring it with me tomorrow.’
He’s so convincing, the girl doesn’t know what to think anymore. Can it be possible that this mysterious man is telling the truth?’
The next day, Kafka rushes back to the park with the letter. The little girl is waiting for him, and since she hasn’t learned how to read yet, he reads the letter out loud to her.
The doll is very sorry, but she’s grown tired of living with the same people all the time. She needs to get out and see the world, to make new friends. It’s not that she doesn’t love the little girl, but she longs for a change of scenery, and therefore they must separate for a while. The doll then promises to write to the girl every day and keep her abreast of her activities.
‘Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures.
After a few days, the girl had forgotten about the real toy that she’d lost, and she was only thinking about the fiction that she’d been offered as a replacement.
Kafka wrote every sentence of this story in such detail, and with such humorous precision, that it made the doll’s situation completely understandable: the doll had grown up, gone to school, met other people.
She always reassured the child of her love, but made reference to the complications of her life, her other obligations and interests that prevented her from returning to their shared life right now. She asked the little girl to think about this, and in doing so she prepared her for the inevitable, for doing without her.
By that point, of course, the girl no longer misses the doll. Kafka has given her something else instead, and by the time those two weeks are up, the letters have cured her of her unhappiness. She has the story, and when a person is lucky enough to live inside a story, to live inside an imaginary world, the pains of this world disappear.
For as long as the story goes on, reality no longer exists.
One day the girl got her doll back. It was a different doll of course, bought by Kafka as a last gift for her.
An attached letter explained, ‘My travels have changed me.’
Many years later, long after Kafka’s death, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll.
In summary it said:
‘Everything that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.’
In the end, love will return.
But, there are so many differences … Christ’s love for us is not fiction, but is true; and he is with us, not just at Christmas, but always. And, in the end, he will return.
In the deep mid-winter, Love came down at Christmas. Have a happy and a holy Christmas.
And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen
John 1: 1-14 (NRSVA):
1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8 He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. 9 The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
10 He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. 11 He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. 12 But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.
Liturgical colour: White (or Gold)
Lord God, mighty God,
you are the creator of the world.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary,
you are the Prince of Peace.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
by your power the Word was made flesh
and came to dwell among us.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
The Collect (day):
you have given us your only-begotten Son
to take our nature upon him
and as at this time to be born of a pure virgin:
Grant that we, who have been born again
and made your children by adoption and grace,
may daily be renewed by your Holy Spirit;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Introduction to the Peace:
Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given,
and his name shall be called the Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9: 6)
You have given Jesus Christ your only Son
to be born of the Virgin Mary,
and through him you have given us power
to become the children of God:
Post Communion Prayer (day):
God our Father,
whose Word has come among us
in the Holy Child of Bethlehem:
May the light of faith illumine our hearts
and shine in our words and deeds;
through him who is Christ the Lord.
Christ, who by his incarnation gathered into one
all things earthly and heavenly,
fill you with his joy and peace:
177, Once in royal David’s city (CD 11)
184, Unto us is born a Son (CD 11)
172, O come, all ye faithful (CD 10)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
Material from the Book of Common Prayer is copyright © 2004, Representative Body of the Church of Ireland.