CHRISTMAS has a way of awakening memories even before it arrives. In a seaside town, that sense of anticipation carries its own particular flavour.

The shorter days draw the sea and sky into closer conversation; the tide rolls in and out beneath winter light; the harbour grows quieter, yet no less beautiful. Against the cold salt air and the long evenings, Christmas lights glow more brightly, and familiar carols drift through streets shaped by centuries of footsteps. There is nostalgia here, too — something almost Victorian in its feel — a sense of hearth and home, of community drawing closer as the nights grow longer.

That Victorian imagination of Christmas still speaks to us. Candlelight against darkness, neighbours looking out for one another, generosity offered not for display but out of shared humanity. It was an era keenly aware of hardship and inequality, yet stubbornly hopeful that hearts could change and communities be renewed. Beneath the sentiment lay a deeper truth, one that the Church has always proclaimed: Christmas is about light that shines precisely because the world can feel cold and uncertain.

At the heart of that light is the Christian claim that God comes to us, not in power, but in vulnerability. The birth of Jesus is not a sentimental story designed to distract us from reality. It is God choosing to step fully into it. Born far from home, laid in a borrowed manger, welcomed first by shepherds accustomed to watching flocks through the night, Jesus enters the world amid uncertainty and fragility. God does not hover safely above human life; God wades into it, sharing its risks and hopes.

For those who live by the sea, this speaks with particular resonance. We know something about unpredictability. Tides shift. Storms gather. Calm waters can quickly turn rough. And yet the sea also teaches us faithfulness — the steady rhythm of waves, the certainty that light will return after darkness. Christmas tells us that God is present in all of this: in the storm and the stillness, in the waiting and the returning. Emmanuel — God with us — is not a distant promise, but a lived reality.

Victorian writers like Charles Dickens understood that Christmas carries a moral weight as well as a glow. Redemption in A Christmas Carol comes through changed hearts, through generosity and reconciliation, through learning once again to see one another as neighbours rather than strangers. That vision echoes the song of Mary in the Gospel, where the coming of Christ is proclaimed as good news for the poor, the hungry, and the overlooked. Christmas, at its truest, draws people together and reminds us of our shared responsibility for one another.

In a town like Tenby, community matters. Visitors come and go with the seasons, but Christmas reminds us that belonging is deeper than the passing tide. The shepherds who came to the manger were ordinary people, working through the night. The wise men arrived from afar, guided by hope and wonder. From the beginning, Christmas gathers a mixed and unexpected crowd around the child who changes the world. The Church, especially at this season, is called to reflect that open welcome — a place where the weary can rest, the hopeful can rejoice, and all can find room.

Hope at Christmas is not abstract or naïve. It is embodied. It looks like light reflected on dark water. It sounds like carols carried on a winter breeze. It is found in acts of kindness, in forgiveness offered, in the courage to believe that love is stronger than fear. The birth of Christ declares that God has not abandoned the world, but remains committed to it — to its people, its places, its future.

As we celebrate Christmas this year, you are warmly invited to join us in St Mary’s as we mark the mystery and joy of Christ’s coming among us. Whether you come often, occasionally, or not at all, there is a place for you — to pause, to reflect, to sing, and to share in the hope that has sustained Christian communities for generations. Our Christmas services offer moments of stillness, beauty, and celebration at the very heart of the season.

From all of us, may you know peace, warmth, and hope this Christmas. We wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and we look forward to welcoming you as together we celebrate the light that shines in the darkness — a light no darkness can overcome.