A Sermon

Dear friends,

I was the guest preacher this past Sunday at Central Christian Church here in Fairmont. The focus of my sermon was St. John 1:1-14. The process of preparing, researching and ruminating led me to an interesting on-line paraphrase of the scripture lesson and, rather than read a version from one of the more traditional Bibles, I opted for this paraphrase. It is reprinted below.

Because John’s Gospel, more so than the other gospels, seems more symbolic than historical, more like poetry aspiring to point to the truth (even if it didn’t happen exactly as reported), a challenge in preparing this sermon involved maintaining as much as possible the same “form” as employed by the gospel writer. Symbolic language can be rather nebulous, however, and whether such an attempt communicates in this day and age is a question that is left to the judgment of the hearer/reader.

Paraphrase of St. John 1:1-14

At the very start, there was one who s called the Word.
…….The word was with God,
……….and the Word was God.
…….From day one, God and the Word were inseparable.

It was through the Word that everything was created.
…….There is absolutely nothing that doesn’t owe its existence to him.

In the Word was life.
…….He is the source of the life
……….that turns on the lights for everyone.
…….The light of his life breaks open the darkness,
……….and the darkness could not snuff it out.

Once there was a man on a mission from God;
…….his name was John.
John gave first-hand report about the light,
…….spelling it out so that everyone could believe.
He wasn’t the light, himself,
…….but he made it his job to draw3 everyone’s attention to the light.

The real light was on his way into the world;
…….the light that lights up inside everyone.

He was in the world
…….but the world didn’t even notice him
……….even though it owed its existence to him.

Some people accepted him, though,
…….and put their trust in who he said he was
……….and what he said he was all about.
He gave to those people all they needed
…….to become children of God.
Becoming God’s children had nothing to do
…….with sperm and egg,
……….or three-stage labour;
…..they became God’s children
……….when they were born of God.

The Word, though, was born flesh and blood like everyone else.
…….He cast in his lot with us
……….and rolled out his swag in our midst.
We have seen him in all his glory,
…….like father, like son;
warm and generous to a fault,
…….solid and true to the core.[1]

The Sermon

Is that it? Is it all over? Those who haven’t yet gone with those “perfectly” shaped artificial trees are probably noticing that the branches of their “real” trees are drooping a little now, sometimes low enough to cause an occasional ornament to drop to the floor, along with the pine needles. The stockings hung by the chimney with care on Christmas Eve are limp and unnoticed now. No doubt, the sanitation engineers making their rounds tomorrow morning will appreciate the numerous trash bags stuffed with much lighter weighing wrappings and ribbons. The remaining ham has been transformed into ham loaves, and the last of the turkey has been picked from the carcass. The sanctuary’s poinsettias still radiate remembrance of Christmas Eve’s glory, but even here time’s passing is obvious as more and more petals gently tumble down to the floor.

Another celebration of the holy joy has become a memory. Is Christmas no more than that? Something to be returned to the basement? A display of things to be shown to friends and relatives who stop by for some holiday cheer? Do we now simply move on from the festivity to, say, forgetfulness? Or might it be possible to find some way wherein the glory of Christmas lives long after the last carol has been hummed, long after the last candle in the Advent wreath has burned low, long after the last piece of fruitcake has been consumed?

“And the word became flesh and lived among us,” says St. John’s Gospel. Another way of saying that is, God put on the shoes of humankind, and walked the hills and valleys and plains that you and I each day must walk. It means that at the heart of the universe is One who was tempted and hungry, who wept when his friends died, who endured pain and death, whose heart was broken and whose comrades deserted him in his hour of need and whose years like ours were a mixture of sorrow and joy. It means that everything in life that he touched has been touched with the fingers of God.

What a strange story! From realms far beyond any our senses can perceive, from dimensions that Einstein called “mystery,” from the source and beginning and fountain of all that has been and is and will be, from outside knowing and feeling has come a Baby who seeks a manger in our hearts. As Paul Sherer expressed it, “God has descended the staircase of heaven with an Infant in his arms.” What an incredible affirmation! The Eternal has come to share our humanity, to sleep and dream, to laugh and love, to breathe and die. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

Soon we will put away the symbols of the celebration. The final “Merry Christmas” will have sounded. A final glance through the cards and we will do with them what we did with them last year. But we cannot so easily dispose of God. Having come to earth, God is alive in whatever is. The Source of all that is, the Holy Mystery that pervades all time and space urging life to its true fulfillment is alive in you and me. Call it the Divine Spark, the Everlasting Presence, Ground of Being, Creator, Great Spirit, Allah, Brahman, Vishnu, or God, this ultimate goodness is alive in you and me, and we need only make our hearts as mangers for God’s dwelling.

True, there is much on this earth to which God came that tries our faith. This is no paradise, to be sure. It is a world of cancer and divorce and death, a world of manipulation and competition and domination, a world of frustration and anger and depression. There is no way we can pretend that our existence on this planet is one vast Disneyworld.

But, stopping to think about it, there’s a way in which our world is exactly the same as the world to which God came when the Word became flesh. While people were reveling in the bawdy barroom of the inn, God was being born amid the stench of the barn, where a mother cried in labor’s pains and a husband stood helplessly by, willing to take upon himself the pain if only he could. Maybe, sweet-voiced angels sang, and smelly, gruff shepherds drew gently near to gaze, cattle lowed as though in chorus, and stars moved in concert with the earth, but it was a hard and cold world to which God’s Child came: no room and indifference and pain.

Still, “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” And when the Word was given voice, it did not tell of the awfulness and the affliction. No, the voice told of flowers and love and hope, of second chances and new discoveries, of triumph over all that is ugly and evil and negative.

Too many of us do what we do to celebrate Christmas as if it were something that happened a long time ago. Our pastor, Josh, has admitted that he doesn’t care much for the season of Advent, that time in which we prepare for the good news of Christmas. He wonders why we need to prepare for something that has already happened, and I think he would say, is happening everyday. Why do we need to prepare for an event in the past? Wouldn’t it be more to the point to consider how God is in the world even now, this very moment, waiting for us, to walk with us the paths of our days, to take us by the hand when we stumble or fail, to meet us in each moment and each thing of beauty, and to stand by us when the torments of life assault us. We expected Christmas on Friday last. But do we expect Christmas today and tomorrow? God does not stay in the mangers on our mantles. God is in the world to find a home in matter and in flesh.

Though we are always touched by the awesome mystery of that holy night long ago, far more wondrous is God’s dwelling-place in the world in which we live. God is here in the light that shines in the eyes of children and old people and in you and me. God is here in the quiet of the day’s close, as we consider how our day was spent. God is here in all things that grow and cheer us with their boughs and colors and sounds. God is here in the strains of the mighty organ under the spell of a master’s touch as well as in the shouting cacophony of a college bowl football game. God is here in the hospital and the broken home and the funeral procession. God is here in the willingness of two to try again after an argument or much worse. God is here in every touch of flesh upon flesh, in all words of love and gratitude, in every effort to understand and forgive, in each attempt to alleviate the suffering of hurting and hungry people everywhere.

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” We do not have to get ready for God. God is already here and is our companion in life. We have only to reach out for God in whatever is and lives.

Wayne Dyer, a best-selling author of inspirational books and articles, and frequently featured in public television broadcasting, tells of a time in October, 2000, when he performed a feat of strength that should not have been possible.

(Quoting from an article that reported this story) "Dyer was leading a tour group though a castle in San Damiano, Italy, that once had been home to a convent set up by St. Francis of Assisi. In Dyer’s group was a young man with muscular dystrophy who could walk only with the help of leg braces. A few steps up a narrow three-flight staircase, this young man realized that his leg braces made it impossible for him to climb any farther. He could not turn back either, because a long line behind him blocked his way.

"Dyer offered to carry the man, forgetting for the moment about his own physical condition. Dyer was then 60 years old and suffered from significant knee and leg problems. The man he had offered to carry up three very steep flights of stairs weighed nearly 200 pounds.

"After only a few steps, Dyer could feel his knees crumble under him. At that moment, he experienced a vision of St. Francis and felt a surge of energy like he never had before. Dyer virtually ran up the remaining two-and-a-half flights and was not even winded when he reached the top."[2]

To Dyer, the incident confirmed that there is a “supreme, benevolent intelligence” and presence that is in and around and underneath and above everything that is.

Someone once said that Christmas is not an event in time; it is a timeless event.

[1] www.laughingbird.net/Lection Texts/09.html
[2] “Magic Happens…Real Life stories to Amaze and Inspire You,” Bottom Line Secrets.Com, 12/24/09