We often tell the Christmas story as tidy and safe – full of warmth, family, and gentle wonder. But the gospels do not let us stay there. They speak of anxious rulers, fragile safety, hurried decisions, and a family forced to move.

Displaced Light is a shared theme for two Sundays – First Sunday after Christmas Day (Year A) and Epiphany. It offers prayers, service ideas, and preaching threads that hold the hard edges of these readings with care, and connect them with a world where many people are still seeking safety, living with uncertainty, and being pushed around by fearful or corrupt power.

God’s light does not stay put. Love moves. Hope finds a way.

Holy flight: God on the move

This Sunday refuses a cosy Christmas. The gospel tells of urgent departure, uncertainty, and the fierce love that protects life. In a world where people are displaced by violence, corruption, poverty, climate crisis, and hostile systems, we worship the God who meets us on the move – and calls the Church to practise safety, dignity, and welcome.

God’s light does not stay put. Love moves. Hope finds a way.

Lectionary

• Gospel: Matthew 2:13-23 – a family flees violence; survival becomes holy work.
• Hebrews 2: Christ shares our flesh and fear; God is not distant from human vulnerability.
• Isaiah 63 / Psalm 148: mercy and praise held together; a world still singing, even when it is unsettled.

Creating a flow

• Gathering: God-with-us – on the road, not only at home
• Truth-telling: naming fear, harm, displacement, and the longing for safety
• Encounter: God’s nearness in vulnerability; Christ alongside the threatened
• Response: prayers of protection and solidarity; commitment to welcome
• Sending: blessing for the journey – for all who must keep moving

Key ideas

• We gather with the God who travels.
• This is not a season for pretending everything is fine.
• The Holy One meets us where safety is fragile.
• Love moves. Hope finds a way.
• We will honour dignity, not turn suffering into a story for our comfort.

Idea: The God who will not stay put

• Move 1 – Christmas isn’t only hearth and home
  Matthew gives us a disrupted story: dreams, danger, departure, uncertainty.
• Move 2 – When rulers panic, ordinary people pay the price
  Name the pattern plainly: anxious power scapegoats; harm follows; families move.
• Move 3 – God meets us in vulnerability, and calls the Church into welcome
  Hebrews: Christ shares our humanity. This is solidarity, not sentiment. Our response is dignity, safety, and truthful love.

Take-home line: When safety is fragile, God comes closer – and love learns to move.

Discussion questions

• Where do you see fear shaping decisions and attitudes in your community?
• What would it look like for our church to be a place of real welcome, not just warm words?
• What is one step you can take this week: learn, give, show up, befriend?

Activity

Packing for the journey
Place a small bag or box at the front with a few objects (a blanket, a key, a photo, a water bottle, a small loaf). Ask:

• If you had to leave quickly, what would you take?
• What would you hope to find where you arrive?
  Name gently: some people really do have to leave quickly – and God goes with them.

Quieter alternative: invite people to write one word on a card (safety, courage, welcome, home) and place it in the bag as a prayer.

Response and action

Choose one this week (no guilt, no performance):

• Learn: find one local organisation supporting refugees and asylum seekers; learn what they actually need.
• Give: donate money or specific items they request (targeted giving helps most).
• Offer: volunteer, attend a community meal, or practical friendship through an established scheme.

Note: participation is not a test of faith. We move at the pace of love.

Call to worship

Holy God,
you meet us not only in peaceful places,
but in movement, in waiting, in searching for safety.
Gather us in your mercy.
Open our eyes to your presence among those who are displaced.
Teach us the courage of welcome,
and the tenderness that protects life.
Love moves. Hope finds a way. Amen.

Prayer of adoration and confession

Holy and loving God,
you are light that keeps shining,
mercy that does not run dry,
faithfulness that does not let go.

You draw near when life is uncertain.
You meet us in the places we would rather avoid.
You keep love moving towards justice and peace.

So we come as we are –
grateful and longing,
tired and hopeful,
carrying what is heavy, and what we cannot yet name.
Draw near to all who are unsafe, uprooted, or alone,
and draw near to us, too.

Merciful God, we confess how easily we protect our comfort.
We confess the stories we repeat that make neighbours sound like threats.
We confess the ways we look away
when systems are slow, confusing, or cruel.
Forgive us, and change us,
so that our worship becomes welcome,
and our welcome becomes real.
Amen.

Words of grace
Hear the good news:
Christ is not ashamed to call us family.
God does not stand at a distance from fragile lives.
In Jesus, grace comes close – to heal, to free, to remake us in love.
Amen.

Intercessions

God of shelter and truth,
we pray for all who have had to leave home
because of war, persecution, poverty, climate crisis, or violence.
Give protection on dangerous roads,
and companionship in lonely places.
Love moves.
Hope finds a way.

We pray for people seeking asylum –
seeking protection because it is not safe to return home.
For those waiting in uncertainty, navigating complicated systems,
and for all who are treated with suspicion instead of dignity.
Bring justice where there is delay,
and compassion where hearts have grown hard.
Love moves.
Hope finds a way.

We pray for all in authority and all who shape public decisions:
where fear becomes policy, turn hearts towards truth;
where power harms, raise up courage and accountability;
where the vulnerable are overlooked, deepen the will to protect.
Love moves.
Hope finds a way.

We pray for our own community:
make us wise in welcome, steady in friendship,
and practical in the ways we can share safety.
Show each of us one way we can make a difference this week.
Love moves.
Hope finds a way. Amen.

Blessing

Go with the blessing of the travelling God:
May Christ be close on the road;
may the Spirit teach you courage and gentleness;
may your hands become shelter, your words become welcome,
and your choices make space for life.
Love moves. Hope finds a way. Amen.

Christmas is not only a story we place on a mantelpiece. It is a story that moves. A story where safety becomes fragile, where the night carries warnings, and where love makes decisions in a hurry.

Mary and Joseph do not flee because they are brave adventurers. They flee because power has turned dangerous. Because an anxious ruler has decided that control matters more than life. Because ordinary people so often pay the price when leaders panic.

And God does not stand back from that reality. God does not wait in a safe place until the danger passes. God goes with them – into uncertainty, into displacement, into the long work of finding shelter and making home again. God-with-us is not a cosy slogan. It is a promise that holds in the hardest places.

So today we pray with all who have been forced to move – by violence, poverty, climate crisis, persecution, or systems that grind people down. We pray for those waiting at borders, in hostels, in temporary accommodation, in overcrowded rooms, in unfamiliar streets. We pray for those who carry everything they have in a bag, and for those whose hopes feel packed away too.

And we let the story question us. Not to load us with guilt, but to invite us into love that is real. Love that makes room. Love that refuses cruel rumours. Love that listens. Love that notices what people need, and does what it can.

If Christ is found among the displaced, then welcome is not an extra. It is part of worship. Part of discipleship. Part of the reign of God breaking in, even on restless streets.

May the travelling God draw near to all who are afraid.
May sanctuary be more than a word.
May love move – and may hope find a way.

We did not plan to leave

For one or more voices – divide as necessary

We didn’t plan to leave.
We thought there’d be time.
Time to rest.
Time to settle.
Time to feel safe.

But the night didn’t wait.
The warning came quietly,
urgently,
and love made its choice.

We took what we could carry.
What mattered most.
What could not be replaced.
And we went.

We didn’t leave because we were brave.
We left because staying was no longer safe.
Because power had turned cruel.
Because fear had found a voice.

And God came with us.
Not later.
Not once things were calm again.
God came with us
into uncertainty,
into displacement,
into the long work of finding shelter.

Today, many carry their lives in bags.
Today, many wait in unfamiliar places.
Today, many listen for good news
that does not come with conditions.

God of the road and the refugee,
stay close to all who have had to leave.
Stay close to all who carry nothing but hope.
Stay close to all who are learning
what it means to make sanctuary real.

(Pause)

Love moves.
Hope finds a way.

God is with us.

Not a story wrapped in comfort,
not a cradle safe from harm,
in the night, a warning echoes –
you must leave, with child in arms.
When our leaders cause displacement,
and the vulnerable must flee,
stay with all who carry nothing,
lead the lost to sanctuary.

Guide us, God, let love appear,
open hearts, diminish fear.
Shine above our restless streets,
lead the exiled into peace.
As love moves, hope finds a way,
travelling God, you’re here to stay.

Strangers follow light and wonder,
open-hearted, gifts they bring,
yet in fear the palace scrambles –
hate and lies to save the king.
When untruth becomes a weapon,
when a neighbour’s named a threat,
show us how to love each other –
teach us mercy and respect.

Guide us, God, let love appear,
open hearts, diminish fear.
Shine above our restless streets,
lead the exiled into peace.
As love moves, hope finds a way,
travelling God, you’re here to stay.

© Gary Hopkins 2025

Music and media cues

• Choose music that can hold lament and hope.
• Consider a short moment of silence after the gospel.
• If using visuals: roads, night sky, shelter, hands, maps – avoid imagery that turns suffering into a spectacle.
• Accessibility: captions on any video; describe images in a sentence for those who can’t see the screen.

Accessibility notes

• Offer spoken and printed responses; make silence an option, not a demand.
• Plain language helps: asylum means seeking protection because it is not safe to return home.
• Trauma-aware cue: “Some of this story may connect with experiences of fear or displacement. Please take care of yourself – you’re welcome to step out, sit quietly, or simply listen.”
• Clear signage for toilets and a quieter space if possible.

Gathering at the table

Christmas joy is still here – and so is the world’s ache.
We come to the table of God-with-us.

Love has taken flesh – not sheltered from danger,
but carried through it.
Make room in us for truth, tenderness, and courage.

This is Christ’s table.
Not a reward for the untroubled,
but refuge for the shaken.
Not a prize for the perfect,
but bread for those who come as they are.

We come with gratitude and grief, with hope and need.
We come to be held – and to be made brave.

The Peace

Peace is more than a feeling – it is God’s nearness in a frightened world.
The peace of Christ be with you.
And also with you.

(Share peace in ways that honour boundaries – words, a nod, a wave, a hand on heart.)

The Great Thanksgiving

The Spirit is here.
The Spirit is with us.

Lift up your hearts.
We lift them to the God of love.

Let us give thanks to the Holy One.
It is right to give thanks and praise.

It is right, and a faithful thing,
to give you thanks, God of mercy and justice.
In Jesus you come close – close enough to be carried,
close enough to be vulnerable,
close enough to know the world as it is.

You are with those who flee in the night,
with those who cross borders and thresholds,
with those who pack a life into one bag,
with those who cannot go home – or cannot be safe at home.

You are with children and all who are threatened by power,
with families doing their best with little certainty,
with neighbours who open doors,
with communities who choose welcome over fear.

And so, with angels and ancestors,
with all who long for safety and peace,
with all who protect the vulnerable and speak truth to power,
we sing the song of heaven:

Holy, holy, holy One,
breath of all that lives, fire of all that loves,
heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is the One who comes to heal and to set free.
Hosanna in the highest.

Thanksgiving and story

Blessed are you, Holy One.
You reveal your glory not through domination,
but through love that shares our life.

In Jesus you entered a world of danger and displacement –
a child at risk,
a family on the move,
a story marked by empire’s violence.

And still, love endured.
You guided, protected, and sustained.
You gathered the overlooked.
You dignified the displaced.
You made a home among those the world tries to unhome.

You teach us that holiness can look like shelter,
like bread shared,
like courage in the face of fear,
like welcome practised day after day.

Words of Institution

On the night before he gave himself for us,
Jesus took bread;
he gave thanks, broke it, and said:
“Take, eat. This is my body, given for you.
Do this in remembrance of me.”

When the meal was ended,
he took the cup;
he gave thanks, and said:
“Drink from this, all of you.
This is my blood of the new covenant,
poured out for you and for many,
for the forgiveness of sins.
Do this, as often as you drink it,
in remembrance of me.”

Christ has died.
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.

Prayer of the Spirit

Pour out your Spirit on us gathered here,
and on these gifts of bread and cup.
Make them for us the body and blood of Christ,
that we may be  the body of Christ:
steadfast in mercy,
brave in compassion,
gentle in strength,
serious about justice.

Where people are unsafe, make us a shelter.
Where people are scapegoated, make us neighbours.
Where fear is exploited, make us truthful.
Where homes are broken, make us builders of welcome.

Teach us to protect the vulnerable,
to honour dignity,
to share what we have,
to practise peace as a daily choice.

Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
all honour and glory are yours,
God of promise and presence,
now and always.
Amen.

The Prayer Jesus taught

As Jesus taught us, we pray:
(Use your community’s preferred wording/version.)

Breaking the bread

We break this bread
to share in the body of Christ.
Though we are many, we are one body,
because we all share in one bread.

The gifts of God for the people of God.
Thanks be to God.

Sharing the bread and cup

(Words such as these may be used during the distribution.)

God-with-us – refuge for you.
Peace that holds you.

(If people receive a blessing instead of the elements: “May Christ be close to you; may love hold you.”)

Prayer after Communion

God of mercy and justice,
we thank you for meeting us at this table.
You have fed us with grace,
and steadied us with hope.

When the world feels frightening, keep us grounded in love.
When we feel powerless, give us courage for what we can do.

Send us out to live the Christmas story with open hands –
to practise welcome,
to protect the vulnerable,
to seek justice,
to carry peace.
God-with-us,
now and forever. Amen.

Sending

Go in peace – not because the world is already safe,
but because love goes with you.
We will make room. We will tell the truth. We will practise peace.