Merry
Christmas! I pray that this night has been full of joy with family and friends.
And I pray that as we turn our focus towards Jesus, that your joy might be made
even fuller. You, of course, noticed that I did not read the gospel reading
that was printed in your bulletin. The Rector, Michael, is working to get over a
bad fever. I had planned to preach on this gospel reading from John this coming
Sunday, so it made more sense to go with that text. And it really is a
wonderful reading, but not one we’re accustomed to hearing on Christmas Eve;
though it is one of the approved options. Can you imagine what the Christmas
pageant would look like if we used John as our manuscript? If you can, let me
know, because I haven’t been able to figure that one out.
I hope that you all enjoy the music
this evening, led by our wonderful choir. Music has a way of moving us like
nothing else. And as much as I’d like to fool myself into thinking that this
sermon will make your night, I know that no one is going to leave this church
quoting my sermon, but everyone will leave with a Christmas song on their lips.
And the gospeller John knew that as well. Scholars tell us that this first
chapter of John is likely a hymn to Christ. Even in our English translation,
the poetry is there.
One of the tools that musicians
often use is the overture. It is the musical introduction to a piece and gives
the listener an overall sketch of what will follow. The overture helps to put
us in the right mood and gives us a foretaste of what is to come. John is using
these first 14 verses of the gospel to give us an overture to the life of
Jesus. The overture helps to prepare us what comes next in two ways. First, the
overture prepares our mind for what is to come. If the piece starts with soft violins
playing, we might expect a peaceful lullaby. But if the music starts with loud
brass and drums, we might start thinking of battle scenes. And secondly, the
overture prepares our heart for what is to come- it gives us a glimpse into the
emotions that we’ll feel as we listen. So I’d like to consider how John is
preparing both our mind and our heart for Jesus this Christmas Eve.
We’ll start with the mind. It’s
pretty clear what John wants us to understand going in to the next 20 chapters-
Jesus is God. Now I know that we’ve all heard that before; we’re at least
vaguely familiar with the concept of the Trinity. But sometimes we mistake the
simplicity of those three words, Jesus is God, for a shallowness of meaning.
The doctrine of the Incarnation is arguably the most important in Christianity,
but also the most problematic.
Without the Incarnation, we could
argue about what exactly godly living looks like. We could debate which prophet
had the most prophetic vision and should be followed. We could, in effect, join
whichever religious group felt the most comfortable and come together to
confirm our own suspicions about God. Without the Incarnation, it would be
rather easy to make up our own god. But in the Incarnation, God got specific,
really specific. We can’t really understand God on God’s terms, so God came to
us on our terms.
“And the Word became flesh and dwelt
among us, and we have seen his glory.” No, there’s no getting around that. God
got real in Jesus. And as important of a doctrine that the Incarnation is,
because it gives us a fuller and more complete view of God, it is also equally
challenging. It means that this Christmas we don’t get to celebrate peace, joy,
happiness, or other pagan drivel, as Will Willimon puts it. It means that we
can’t fashion our religious life into whatever fits into our schedule and
budget. Instead, the Incarnation means, as the prophet Isaiah puts it, that we
have seen a great light. And having seen that light, we can either use it to enlighten
our path or stumble about in the darkness.
But this is hard. Some of you are
likely familiar with the Will Ferrell movie, Talladega Nights. In it, Ferrell’s character, race car driving
legend, Ricky Bobby, leads the family prayer at dinner one night in this way –
“Dear Lord baby Jesus, lyin’ there in your manger, just lookin’ at your Baby
Einstein developmental videos, learnin’ ‘bout shapes and colors. We thank you
so much for this bountiful harvest of Domino’s, KFC, and the always delicious
Taco Bell.” But his wife interrupts him to remind him that Jesus grew up to be
a man, and it is sort of odd to pray to the baby Jesus. To which Ricky Bobby
responds “Well, I like the Christmas Jesus best and I’m saying grace. When you
say grace, you can say it to grownup Jesus or teenage Jesus or bearded Jesus,
or whoever you want.” And he then continues, “Dear, 8-pound, 6-ounce, newborn
infant Jesus, don’t even know a word yet, just a little infant and so cuddly,
but still omnipotent, we just thank you for all the races I’ve won.” Now it’s a
comical scene, but I think we all tend infantilize Jesus in some ways. The baby
Jesus lets us keep our god sentimental, harmless, and distant.
And John, I think, deliberately
skips Jesus being a baby, because that his not where his fullest expression of
grace and truth is to be found. No, Jesus is to be ultimately known not by his
manger, but by his ministry, and ultimately his cross. Consider Jesus’ first
sermon in Nazareth. After preaching a sermon in his hometown, how did people
react to it? Did they say, “oh that Jesus, I just knew that we could expect big
things out of him. We’re just so proud of him?” No, they didn’t. They tried to
throw him off a cliff.
We don’t tend to like it when our
God gets specific. We prefer an ambiguous sort of god who sits on the sidelines
and helps us out when we’re in trouble, but otherwise leaves us alone. As John
says, “the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own
people did not accept him.” They, and I think John includes us in this, wanted
no part of such a specific God, because things get tricky when God gets
specific.
Consider how we use the words. We
often say “God bless the United States” and we print “in God we trust” on our
money. But try using “Jesus” in place of “God.” “Jesus bless the United States,”
“in Jesus we trust.” It changes things doesn’t it? Perhaps we don’t feel quite
as comfortable uttering those things when we have to get specific. When God
goes from being a vague deity to the specific “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,” well, then things get a bit messier.
So it’s no surprise that Jesus ended
up on a cross. They said, “we’ve had enough of this. We prefer our god to be up
in the heavens, not down here on earth.” Jesus interrupted the status quo, he
demands our best from us, and pushes us out of our comfort zones. Forgiving our
enemies, practicing peace, giving charitably, these are things that challenge
us. And so sometimes it’s easier to ignore them and pretend that Jesus isn’t
God. So scholars do it by focusing on the “historical” Jesus and the rest of us
do it by placing more emphasis on Christmas than on Good Friday and Easter.
And John wants no part in this
saccharine picture of Jesus. For John, Jesus’ glory is found on the cross and
in the empty tomb. From the beginning, John makes it very clear that Jesus is
God. Not that Jesus shows us God, not that Jesus points to God, but Jesus is
God. Theologian Stanley Hauerwas, in an interview, rather poignantly makes the
points. He remarks that he had heard a sermon in which the preacher kept
talking about how Jesus was a way to God. And he laughs at that rationale,
saying that the preacher must have forgotten that Jesus isn’t the way to God,
he is God. It would be as if, when you’re standing my living room, you asked
for directions to my house. John begins his overture by preparing our minds for
the Good News of Jesus by making sure that we understand- Jesus is God.
But John also seeks to prepare our
hearts and emotions for what we’ll find in the gospel. Both John and Isaiah
paint the image of the light coming into darkness, and I think that image does
something to our emotions. Imagine being in a cold, dark room, and then having
a flicker of hope start to shine. We’d worry that the light would be blown out,
that it wouldn’t be bright enough to change things. As powerful of an event
that the Incarnation is, it’s also a rather risky one. John patterns this first
chapter on Genesis, both start with the phrase “in the beginning,” both tell
the story of God’s creative and powerful love coming to the world.
In both situations, God enters the
situation of chaos to bring light into the darkness; in Genesis by creating the
stars of heaven, and in John by becoming the light of the world. And so
emotionally, there is hope in this overture. We hope that the light burns
brighter. We pray that it illumines our path. And as we will do later in this
service, we are invited to light our candles from the light of Jesus and use
that light to shine in our own life.
In The Last Battle, one of CS Lewis’ novels in the Narnia series,
there is an exchange that goes like this – “It seems, then” said Tirian, “that
the Stable seen from within and the Stable seen from without are two different places.”
“Yes,” said Lord Digory. “Its inside is bigger than its outside.” “Yes,” said
Queen Lucy. “In our world too, a Stable once had something inside it that was
bigger than our whole world.” John captures this hope in his overture- that the
Word of God, through whom all things came into being, came and lived among us.
Now I don’t know what you all might
be facing in your personal lives right now; I’m not privy to what is weighing
on your heart. As joyous as this time of year is, it can also be a struggle. We
are reminded of loved ones that aren’t with us this year. We feel the financial
pressure of being out of work. We worry about our own health issues. We fear
for the safety of our loved ones who are working this night in our streets as
police officers or in the Middle East as soldiers. We wonder what the new year
will have in store for us. The Good News of this overture, is that indeed,
something bigger than this world has come into this world. What God provides
for us is minimum protection, but maximum support. Despite the darkness that
seems to cover everything. Despite the fears, despite the chaos, there is a
light shining. And that light is the light of the world, it is Jesus, it is
God. John’s overture sets that as the tempo for the rest of the piece. God is
with us. So let not your hearts be troubled.
If the Gospel according to John were
a piece of music, then tonight’s reading is the overture to prepare our mind
and heart to know that Jesus is God and that Jesus’ light shines amidst the
darkness. But we all have a decision to make- what will you do with that light?
Will you proudly display it on your front lawn for a few weeks? Will you use it
as a weapon to burn others who aren’t keeping the Christ in Christmas? Will you
pack it up and put in the attic until next December? Or will you use that light
to give hope to those who live in the darknesses of this world? Will you
instead allow its warmth to warm your own heart? Will you use that light as
your lantern as you walk through the journey of life?
“In the beginning was the Word, and
the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God.
All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into
being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of
all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome
it.” Thanks be to God, and Merry Christmas!
