“God In Our Flesh” Second Sunday of Christmas January 4, 2009

(First read the text for this sermon: John 1:1-18)

Merry Christmas!

Today, of course, is the Second Sunday of Christmas, and the 11th day of Christmas. (Today it’s 11 pipers piping. Or, it should be “11 fifers fifing” – since, after all, this is Williamsburg!) Tomorrow night is observed by some as “Twelfth Night.” Tuesday is the Epiphany – when the church celebrates the arrival of the wise men (or kings, or astrologers, or whatever they were and however many of them there were). But, still, today: Merry Christmas!

Does this sound like a lot of liturgical yada yada yada? Haven’t you left Christmas behind? (Who here has taken down the decorations at home?) We’re into the New Year, right? Tomorrow it’s back to work. School starts back up.

In fact, it is often the case that there is no Second Sunday of Christmas. Christmas Day has to fall late in the week for the 12 days of Christmas to include two Sundays. But I like it when there is a Second Sunday of Christmas – because, by now, our visions of sugar plum fairies have faded. The emotions you and I attach to Christmas (sweet and bitter) are not so strong. That gives us a better chance of receiving the good news of Christmas this morning. In fact, that good news can be expressed in this one sentence: And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

You recognize this sentence, from this morning’s reading in the gospel of John: what is often called the “prologue” of John. (When you look in your Bibles, I’ll bet you’ll find there’s an extra space between verse 18, where the prologue ends, and verse 19, where the gospel proper begins.) These first 18 verses are remarkable.

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. The gospel of John does not have a story of Jesus' birth. Instead, it begins with a discussion of the cosmic pre-existence of the Word, which “was with God,” and “which was God.” So, this gospel begins even before creation! Before there existed anything else, there was the Word.

And so, in Genesis, God spoke creation, and the created order came to be. In Exodus and Deuteronomy, God spoke at Sinai, giving the law through Moses. God spoke through the prophets, to renew God’s promise. And then, the Word become flesh, God spoke (and speaks!) through the flesh and blood of Jesus the Christ.

Why is it that many do not hear or see or perceive God in Jesus? That has been a mystery since the very first days of Christian mission. Jesus’ earliest followers encountered rejection, mostly. That mystery is addressed in these verses we read a few minutes ago: He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. Then come crucial words: But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. So – not only the Word become flesh, but God in our flesh!

God in our flesh. Not only during those delicious days when friends and family members who love each other gather for festive celebration. But God in our flesh during routine days. God in our flesh during fearful days. God suffers that fear with you. God in our flesh on those days when the physical therapy is going badly. God suffers that despair with you. God in our flesh when your expectations are so high for yourself that you are incredibly hard on yourself. God suffers that scarcity of grace with you. Indeed, God in our flesh during those days where we’re simply feeling “the old ennui” (to quote that great theologian, Cole Porter).

Now, I say all of this. But I know as well as anyone that it is hard to know this, and to be strengthened by it, when crisis comes. When I was so sick, in the hospital, for instance, I could not receive this gift on my own. What despair! How necessary were the visits from a friend of mine named Pete, who was a chaplain at Norfolk General Hospital, who would come in and simply sit and listen. God, in Pete’s human flesh – which reminded me that God is in my flesh! We sure do need each other for the spiritual journey. That’s why the Holy Spirit creates our community with each other.

Indeed, here’s something else that’s intriguing in all of this: the Greek word translated, “lived” (as in, And the Word became flesh and lived among us) can be translated “pitched his tent.” So, think of this: of God pitching a tent with us. Where? In the wilderness, right? It’s out there that the shelter is only temporary, right? What grace and comfort there is in this: God, in the desert experiences of our lives, sharing in those experiences, in our flesh.

Christianity is the only religion so physical, when we take seriously the Incarnation – which means, God become flesh. In a Christianity that takes the Incarnation seriously, God is more than just an idea. Here is how the gospel writer puts it: No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father's heart, who has made him known. “God the only Son” – Jesus the Christ – makes God known in his flesh and blood.

A Christianity that takes seriously the Incarnation is the only religion that is so physical. Luther, in fact, once wrote that if you don’t encounter God in your everyday activities, then you won’t encounter God anywhere. God in our flesh.

So – you and I are called into the continuing discipline of the spiritual life, introduced in the themes of Advent: of watchful openness to God. Of receiving the ability from God the Holy Spirit to perceive God in our human flesh. Of living in community with each other, because we receive such sight and insight from each other.
Indeed, in two days, comes the Epiphany (which begins the season of Epiphany). What is an epiphany? It’s an instance of revelation. It’s an experience of insight. It’s coming to understanding with clarity. The story is of the wise men, guided by a star – by the vision, the sight, the insight.

As the Spirit opens our eyes of faith, we rejoice in this physical Christmas good news: God in our flesh.

In the name of God, who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia