Grace Presbyterian Church
January 3, 2016, Christmas 2C
John 1:1-18
Word and Light
If I had gone
looking for a cute title for today’s sermon, it might have been “Yes, This Is
Really a Christmas Sermon.” Nothing about infants in mangers, or magi from the
East, or any of the usual trappings of the Nativity story as we usually tell
it. The story that usually takes up this season is mostly a mashup of Luke’s
narrative with bits of Matthew’s story. Mark offers us nothing before Jesus’s
adult life and ministry, and none of the other New Testament books – not Acts
nor Paul’s epistles or anything else – have anything to say about the birth of
Jesus.
This is John’s
“Christmas story,” or as close as you’ll get from this evangelist. And while,
in A Charlie Brown Christmas, the
character Linus doesn’t quote John 1 in response to Charlie Brown’s plea, this
passage is a pretty good summation of “what Christmas is all about”
nonetheless.
While it can’t
necessarily be captured in a cute nativity scene or rendered in a sentimental
Christmas-card scene, this passage John offers here is full of theological insight
and understanding that is foundational to the most basic Christian thinking
about God. Even the very confessional statements we use in worship rely on some
of the claims John makes in this passage on behalf of Jesus.
Verses 6-9 and 15
offer an interjection on a key figure, named John (not the gospel author, who
after all never identifies himself). John (we often call him “the Baptist,” but
this gospel never does) is described as a “witness.”
He is not the main subject of this gospel discourse, our author wants to make
that much clear, but his witness is considered important enough to be inserted
into John’s account of the Word. At the very minimum, this should be a lesson
for us. But we’ll come back to that later.
This prologue to
the gospel makes three important points about the Christ, the man Jesus, the
Word. Each of them is potentially a subject for intense and long-term study.
But for us, and for the purposes of a single sermon, we can take a look at
these three points a bit more briefly than in, say, a seminary class (and yes,
any one of these important ideas about Jesus could be a semester’s worth of
study).
First of all, the
Word goes all the way back. In a pretty direct echo of Genesis, the first thing
this gospel tells us is that “In the
beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” To
those who would argue that Jesus was merely a human son, the gospel places this
figure in the beginning, even a vital and inescapable part of creation itself.
This is something our confessional statements regularly help us to rehearse.
For example, the Nicene Creed (which we will be using today) speaks of the one
who is “eternally begotten of the Father,”
the Scots Confession describes him as “begotten
from eternity.” The Word “was in the
beginning with God.” And the life that was in this one, the Word, was “the light of all people.”
But perhaps the
most fascinating part of this opening statement is in verse 5. After the
succession of past-tense verbs, all following the “in the beginning” setting,
we get out of the blue a present-tense verb: “the light shines in the
darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” From all that was, this Word – the Light – still is. The Word that was “in the beginning”
is the Light that still shines.
Second, this Word
(and Light) was in the world, but “the
world did not know him.” Philip Jamieson points out just how profound this
alienation is: “humanity is alienated
from the very creation of which it is a part.” For humanity to “not know”
the Word is for humanity to be cut off from its very place in creation, the
creation which God (and the Word) created humanity to be a part of. That
alienation did not remain complete, as those who believed were empowered to be
“children of God,” but this clearly
was, and by all evidence around us remains, only a partial reclamation.
Thus, the third
and most deeply inexplicable point of the gospel’s opening statement, in verse
14; “and the Word became flesh, and
lived among us.” We use the fancy theological word “incarnation” for this
mind-twisting knowledge: the Word, the one who was from the beginning with God,
the one who was God, became not
merely human – no, this word the gospel uses for “flesh” connotes everything
that is earthy and mundane about human existence. This wasn’t a god who put on
a skin suit and walked around Earth for a while; this was no less than God born
into the humanity that God had created, the muck and mire of physical
existence, God eating and drinking and yawning and sleeping and waking and
hurting and weeping and laughing (and yes, all the other even more mundane and
yucky stuff humans do too) because God was human. God didn’t live like a human
being; God was a human being.
This Incarnation,
this “Word become flesh,” is the unspoken but indispensible underlying
principle behind everything we celebrate at Christmas. The birth of a baby and
the placing of that baby in an animal feed trough is no less than God become
human, in all the glory of God and the mundane-ness of humanity. This inexplicable
act becomes to us the means of the grace of God, extended to us, for us,
without which we do not know the Light or the Word or any of God’s salvation
for us.
And so, back to
John, the witness to the Light.
John isn’t
necessarily the most frequently portrayed in art over the centuries. Many
portraits of Christ are out there, and Mary also appears frequently. But there
are portraits of John, the baptizer, the witness.
But there’s an
interesting tendency in those paintings. Virtually always, whatever else John
is doing in the portrait, John is pointing. Maybe to his side, maybe up, maybe
over, but always pointing, pointing to Jesus. Bearing witness to the Light.
Most sermons
encourage to you imitate Christ, to ask “What would Jesus do?” And that’s a
good object of a sermon. But today, I charge you with something different.
Imitate John.
Point to Jesus.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
Hymns
(PH ’90): “Angels, From the Realms of
Glory” (22); “What Child Is This” (53); “Jesus, Thou Joy of Loving Hearts”
(510); “Rise Up, Shepherd, and Follow” (50)
agnusday.org, bringing the word on the word "Word," and the Word
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