Psalm 147:13-21
Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7
John 1:1-18
St. Christopher's Episcopal Church
Kailua, HI
+In the name of
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
So far it
appears that we have survived Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and we have arrived
on the First Sunday after Christmas, more or less. Over Advent, we heard the stories and prophecies
of the coming of the Lord, and on Christmas Eve and Day, we heard the story of
the Nativity of our Lord, Jesus Christ. It
would therefore be logical to assume that we might now hear one of the stories
of Jesus’ childhood on the Sunday following Christmas such as his dedication at
the Temple, the visitation of the Magi, the flight to Egypt by the Holy Family,
the slaughter of the innocents by King Herod, or his wandering and being found
in the Temple of Jerusalem by his parents, Mary and Joseph. And those stories do indeed come up on such
feasts like Holy Name Day on January 1, the Epiphany on January 6, and
Candlemas on February 2. Also, the
lectionaries in the Church of England and Anglican Church of Canada’s
respective Books of Common Prayer have stories like this for the First Sunday
after Christmas. However, the architects
of our own lectionary have placed this seemingly unusual passage from the
Gospel of S. John as the Gospel reading for the Sunday after Christmas.
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| A card with The Last Gospel |
These first few
verses of the first chapter of the Gospel of S. John are filled with metaphors,
poetry, allegories, and symbolism, and contains rich philosophy and theology
throughout its words. Even if one does
not understand the message present within this text, one cannot help but
appreciate its beautiful poetry and wordplay present in this passage. It speaks of the incarnation of the Word, the
Son of God taking flesh; it contains the whole of the Divine Plan for creation
and redemption. Much has been written
about it over the course of two millennia.
It’s potency was so significant, that in the eleventh century, at the
end of the Eucharistic liturgy of the Western Church, the priest would read
this passage in what was called “The Last Gospel,” as a reminder of the incarnation,
first as a private devotion on the way back to the sacristy, and then audibly
for the whole congregation to hear. This
practice however overtime came to an end.
Thomas Cranmer did not include The Last Gospel in the first Book of
Common Prayer of the Church of England in 1549. It was also removed from the Roman Catholic
Mass as one of the liturgical reforms of the Second Vatican Council. For us Anglicans and for our Roman Catholics
brothers and sisters, I believe the decision to remove The Last Gospel was a
mistake because it diminishes the significance of the Incarnation in the
history of our redemption.
When we
juxtapose this passage from the Gospel of John with our Christmas nativity
scene, it seemingly does not make sense: how can such a humble scene coincide
with this abstract scene from John’s Gospel.
Whereas the nativity scene can be easily made into Christmas
decorations, this cannot. Yet both
realities are true, and two sides of the same coin. And though we might consciously say, “yeah we
hear this all, Son of God, divine and human, we say it in the Creed every week,”
I find that we shy away from what John has to say in favor of the amalgamated
accounts from the Gospels of Ss. Luke and Matthew. We can conceptualize that scene better, we
can package that scene better, we can present that scene better, we can market
that scene better, and we can control that scene better because that scene has
a baby in it--a precious child that we can put precious ornamentation and
pageantry around whilst ignoring the bigger picture.
This is not to say this is a bad scene or that it is bad to have pageants and such, these pageants are important to highlight and to teach people of the humility to be found in the birth of Christ, but we cannot isolate this event from the deep, cosmic reality of the incarnation. John’s scene is weird, it is difficult to explain, and it takes the power to control the narrative away from us and places it in God’s hands. For 21st century Americans, that is terrifying, because we are accustomed to defining things on our own terms and placing ourselves or what we want at the center of the story rather than what is there. Yet we must dive into this deep place to understand the mysteries of the incarnation. Listen to Christmas carols that are still playing on the radio, and read the carols in our hymnal, and you will see God’s majesty in the midst of such humility. In this, we find in John’s account of the Nativity more understanding about what this Christmas season is than anything else we can imagine.
When we listen
to the Greek of this passage, we hear the beauty of this mystery:
Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος,
καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν θεόν, καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος.
In the Beginning
was the Word, and the Word was with God, and God was the Word—before time, if
you can conceptualize that; before space, if you can conceptualize that, before
creation itself, there was the Logos, the Word.
Greek philosophers often would use Logos, or Word, as an abstract term
for a principle source of knowledge, or the principle source of knowledge;
often contrasted with Sophia as a particular or the principle source of wisdom. Christians however took to the term Logos not
as an abstract term, but personified it as the Second Person of the Trinity,
the Son of God. From here, the author of
the Gospel of John borrows from the Greek version of the Book of Genesis to
shed light on the relationship between God the Father and the Word:
Εν ἀρχῇ ἐποίησεν
ὁ Θεὸς τὸν οὐρανὸν καὶ τὴν γῆν.
In the
Beginning, God made the Heavens and the Earth.
Εν ἀρχῇ, “In the Beginning” John brings us back to this primordial place
and time. When God makes the Heavens and
the Earth, God speaks. God is not alone
in this creation, the Logos, the Word is present with God the Father, and is
God himself as God the Son. What comes
forth from God the Father’s spoken Word or Logos is all that is and ever will
be. At the end of that creation, God,
through his Spoken Word and with the Power of the Holy Spirit forms humanity in
his image and likeness, and we too are gifted with words.
Words have
power, the power to create, shape, mold, form, reform, and destroy. We see that power in the midst of creation as
God creates with and through the Word.
As we too are made in the image and likeness of God, so too do our words
contain creative and destructive power.
That power is greater than anything else that we can wield, because
words manifest into thought, which manifest into action. We see how a kind and joyful word can
transform a space around us, and we see how a word can destroy others and
ourselves. The first sins of humanity
were done through words—through lying and deception, and through our words the
creation was marred.
This is why we
have the Christmas Season, and this is why we celebrate such a humble birth,
because God the Son, the Divine Word of God, present at Creation, empties
himself of all power and magnificence save his love, for it is in love that all
of this occurs, and enshrouds his divine nature in flesh. His Divine Nature never overtakes his human
nature, and his human nature never corrupts his Divine Nature. The Divine Splendors of the Heavenly realm
manifest themselves in simple images—a stable or a cave as a royal palace, a
manger as a king’s bed, a mother’s lap as a throne, animals and shepherds as a
royal court—here, paradise is on Earth, God is among his people, and the
creation made by a word, distorted by a word, is now restored by the Word.
Jesus Christ, by
sharing in our human nature, allows for us to share in his Divine Nature. S. John Chrysostom, a fourth century bishop
of Constantinople wrote on the Nativity:
“For this He
assumed my body, that I may become capable of His Word; taking my flesh, He
gives me His spirit; and so He bestowing and I receiving, He prepares for me
the treasure of Life. He takes my flesh, to sanctify me; He gives me His Spirit
that He may save me.”
By taking on
flesh, Jesus becomes a bridge for us to walk upon to restore us into the
fullness of the image and likeness of God.
We walk that bridge by being in relationship with him: through Baptism
and the Eucharist we share in his Life, Death, and Resurrection, becoming a
part of his Divine and Human Body. We
become more like him through acts of charity and justice. A kind word to someone in pain, visiting
someone in the hospital or in prison, and even giving some money to the person
begging on the street when possible.
Anyone can do these small actions, but we find that sometimes in the smallness,
in the person-to-person interactions, we find Christ, inviting us into the
heavenly realm. In these exchanges,
Heaven is on Earth. We do not need to
wait for the bureaucrats in Honolulu or Washington to make grand sweeping
gestures to make Heaven manifest on Earth.
We cannot let God’s mission of justice and evangelism fall on the
shoulders of the leadership of the Episcopal Church alone. We might have a great presiding bishop, and
we might have a great rector here, but evangelism does not fall on them alone—that
is our job. Our own actions, as small as
they may seem, is where that heavenly and cosmic realm manifest around us.
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| Altar of the Nativity in the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, Palestine |
This is why the Nativity
from the Gospel of John is so important, and why we need it in our lives and in
our Christmas story. The Christmas story
is a lynchpin of history. It is one of
those moments where nothing changes, and yet everything changes. A Divine Mystery is enshrouded by humble
events, and yet those humble events behold a Beauty far surpassing human
understanding. The beginning, the
middle, and the end are linked; God is present in and amongst us in our
beginning, in the middle, and the end.
And now, because humanity and Divinity are linked in the person of Jesus
Christ, we too are at the beginning, the middle, and the end of creation. We now participate in a new creation through
being as Christ to others. This story
reminds us of the very paradox of what Emmanuel means—God is with us, he will
now always be with us, now and until the very end of time itself.
Yea, Lord, we
greet thee, born this happy morning;
Jesus, to thee
be glory given!
Word of the
Father, now in flesh appearing!
O Come let us
adore him
Venite Adoremus
O Come let us
adore him
Christ the Lord.
Amen.
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