December 27, 2009
The First Sunday after Christmas (Year C)
Isaiah 61:10-62:3; Psalm 147; Galatians 3:23-25,4:4-7;
John 1:1-18
This hymn from the Gospel of John was written almost a century after the death of Jesus, and yet, for me anyway, it captures all of the theology, all of the mystery, all of the profound holiness of God deciding to imbue holiness into humanity by becoming one of us, that can possibly be expressed.
This “prologue to John” (as this hymn is called) that we read the first Sunday after Christmas, is one of the most lovely and eloquent pieces of scripture, especially in the New Testament. And from it we are lifted into the realm of faith by poetic words, words that create a cadence of faith marching into our hearts and souls. If you can’t tell, I love this passage. I love reading it at Lessons and Carols, and I love that we wrestle with it on this Sunday after we have at least thought about, if not acted upon, putting away the mangers and the crèches and the kings – even though they have not yet come! For this passage is where the living of faith gets down and dirty, no more picturesque scenes with tender shepherds and doting parents and perfectly groomed livestock. Now we are faced with the beauty and the responsibility of faith, all rolled up in one passage.
This passage should probably be sung and not read because it, like good music, brings heart and mind and soul to a mysterious and holy place, a place that most of us can get to in precious few ways – music is one way, prayer and meditation another. But this prologue, like music or prayer, enfolds many levels of our beings all at once and, because of that, gives meaning and truth, even faith, to us in a way that transcends us and takes us to a place where we do not go lightly!
Having just sung all the Christmas carols in the past few days, I hope they are soaked into your bones as they are mine. I hope you know what I am talking about when I describe this power that music and/or prayer can have on us, that such words as these in the gospel of John put to music can transform our souls! Indeed, these words were likely music to begin with, and we have removed the notes and made them words, not a bad thing, but how much more they might be if set to music?!
“Christ” “Word” “Jesus in a manger” “Light of the World” – all these tell us something of God, of how desperately God wanted to be reconciled to us, to all of us and how badly we humans had blown it. But more than that, far more than that, which is almost too wonderful to bear, on top of that, God became human to make reconciliation possible. God didn’t just reach down to us, pat us on the head and say, “There, there, let’s make up,” even though we are to blame. No! God became human. Word became human, as human as you or I, a person who needed to be cared for as an infant and who taught us to care for others as an adult. God became one of us to show the seriousness of God’s intent toward reconciliation and to elevate us to his level rather than reducing himself to ours. God become fully human. Sometimes I think, like the docestists in the early centuries, we think the humanity of Jesus is something he played at, or was a charade in some way, that he was somehow not susceptible to the frailties and vagrancies of human living. But the mystery of God, the profundity of the incarnation is that God was not above us in anyway, but really just one of us. I think it far more profound that God became human than if God had somehow winked and only pretended to be human. And far more believable actually because God always uses the ordinary to do the extraordinary. Becoming human, ordinary human, and then living and dying as he did is for me the evidence of God at work.
And that is why I like this passage because it really stresses that Christology of human Jesus connected to the Divine Christ in such a poetic and lyrical way. This passage explains the holy mystery of God become human!
By their very nature “holy mysteries” defy explanation! And here I am trying to explain the holy mystery of Incarnation! And these words so eloquently strung together in any language sing it better than I or anyone I have ever read or heard can. That being said, I hope we can bask in the loveliness of this passage from John for at least a day, today, but then tomorrow realize that, like Jesus who became human, the time for sentimental images of snow covered barns (a truly sentimental image because Bethlehem NEVER has snow!) and softly lowing cattle is, at least for me, past, and it is time to get to the real work that Jesus taught us in his humanity, the work of reconciling the world to itself and to God. The work of feeding the poor, caring for the earth, tending the sick, honoring the prisoners, honoring one another as God did when he became one of us.
It is time for us to get to the real work of loving all of humanity, by loving the specific people who come into our lives, or whom we seek out, because that is the only way we can see the folks that Jesus sought to bring life and love and good news to as Jesus did so often in his very human life. It is easier to love the people “like us” or with whom we agree than it is to love the people who are not too close by or too close to us in anyway, yet Jesus, the human Jesus, did just that. And he calls us as followers to the same reality.
So finish the Christmas weekend by singing this prologue to John in your hearts, and tomorrow go and do the work of being human in the image of Christ. And do as Jesus did, and continues to do, through you.
Amen.
The Reverend Dr. Gale Davis Morris
Church of the Good Shepherd