Here is the transcript of my podcats for the Nativity of Our Lord on Christmas Night.
The Nativity of the Lord - Christmas Night 2021
Reading: John 1:1-18
During the present pandemic, we have all come to appreciate being able to communicate with each other online. Indeed, it is hard to imagine what life would be like at the present time without the internet. Even those who dislike social media - and I personally certainly have an ambiguous relationship with it – have, nevertheless, appreciated being able to use it to keep in touch with family and friends. Seeing loved ones online may not be the same as seeing them in person, but when travel restrictions prevent us from getting together physically, online is the next best thing.
One of the things online social media companies want you to do is to fill in your profile. Most of this is straightforward enough. One profile question that can cause problems, however, is the one about our ‘relationship status’. Although for many this too is a relatively straightforward question to answer, it certainly isn’t for everyone. For some, their relationship status is anything but straightforward, and so Facebook, for example, helpfully has as an answer the option: ‘It's complicated’.
On this Christmas Night, then, I want to ask a profile question that doesn’t get asked on social media sites. Now don't worry, I'm not going to ask you to put your hands up or to answer out loud, but I do want to ask you to think about how you personally would answer. The question is, ‘What is your relationship status with God?’
This, again, is for some a straightforward question to answer. They either do or don’t have a relationship with God. Some have a deep and meaningful relationship with God, and they can’t imagine their lives without him. Others don’t think there is a God to have relationship with or simply have no interest in him anyway. But for others, well, ‘It’s complicated’.
So let me ask you again: ‘What’s your relationship status with God?’
Now notice I am not asking you whether you believe in God. The fact that you are here at all at Midnight suggests that at the very least you are not unsympathetic to the possibility of his existence, even if the season we are in and the traditions that are part of it also have something to do with you being here.
No, I am not asking you about your belief, but about your relationship. It is, of course, perfectly possible, indeed it is common, to believe in someone’s existence without having anything approaching a relationship with them. We don’t have a relationship as such even with many people we know and see on a regular basis.
The question I am asking, then, is specifically about your relationship with God. And it is here that for many it starts to get complicated.
For some, it’s complicated because their relationship with God is a distant relationship, perhaps no more than a vague sense that there is a God. For many others, however, it is complicated because they are not particularly sure that they want to commit to a relationship with God. They may be happy to go to church and even to take part in church activities, but to enter into a fully committed relationship? They are certainly not ready for that.
Why am I going on about this tonight of all nights?
Well, it’s because tonight all over the world people like me will be talking about the passage I have just read, which begins with the famous words, ‘In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God …’ St John will also write ‘and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us’. Church leaders and preachers will also refer at this time to St Matthew’s words, ‘Emmanuel – God with us’ (Matthew 1:23). We will tell people that in order to be with us, God has become one of us. We will seek to reassure people that God has not left us or abandoned us. Instead, we will explain, he has entered our existence as one of us.
Our assumption seems to be that if, as church leaders and preachers, we can convince people that this is indeed true, that there is a God who has done this, then they will be overjoyed and want to become regular churchgoers from that moment onwards. Apart from being somewhat naive, it misses the point of what the Word becoming flesh was all about. Seeing ‘God with us’ as simply being about God reassuring us that he is ‘there for us’ is fraught with difficulty.
Firstly, take the phrase, ‘God with us’ itself. St John, in our Gospel reading, also describes the Word as the one through whom all things originally came into being. St Paul describes God as being the ‘one in whom we live and move and have our being’ (Acts 17:28). How much more ‘with us’ could he be than that? God was already with us without the Word having to become one of us. Preachers will explain that by becoming one of us God can now understand what it is like for us. But surely if he is God, he would know that anyway?
Secondly, as if this isn’t enough of a problem, as I have said, many of us don’t in any case want God with us. At least, not in any way that matters. Some want absolutely nothing to do with God at all. They see God as just a crutch for weak people, as an imaginary friend for people frightened of being alone. They are very happy to take their chances in life without him.
Others, however, while not wanting anything to do with God on a regular basis, think that it would be nice if God could be there for us when we get into trouble. In other words, they want to see God being with us as a sort of heavenly insurance policy. But the bottom line is that the rest of the time they want to live their lives their way, without any outside interference. It would be good if God could be with us when we need him, but, they think, that doesn’t mean he should have control over us.
The difficulty is, of course, that while we may want to live our lives our way, we are not very good at it. We like to tell ourselves we can manage perfectly well most of the time without God, but the evidence is very much against it. Hence the darkness that engulfs humanity and the terrible mess we see around us as people compete with one another and trample over each other.
This is true on a political, social, financial, and cultural level; it is also true on an individual level. Many tonight will put a brave face on Christmas, but inside they are hurting and fighting the darkness that threatens to overwhelm them. For not only do we do evil, we suffer both the consequences of the wrong we ourselves do as well as the wrong others do to us.
The Word becoming flesh wasn’t about God wanting to show he is with us in the sense of being there for us when we feel we need him; it was about God wanting to get through to us in the darkness of our existence and to make it possible for us to have a relationship with him.
Jesus came as a light shining in the darkness to give us the chance to turn from darkness to light, to turn from ourselves to be with him. So how did we respond to the light? St John writes that even his own did not receive him (John 1:11). And now today, still we don’t receive him. God may be ‘with us’, but we certainly aren’t with him.
We don’t feel any guilt about this. After all, we didn’t ask him to come in the first place. We may not be good at it, but, generally speaking, we want to make our own decisions about how we live our lives, without anyone telling us what we should and should not do.
There are those who are attracted to the light, who know their need, and who would like to have God in their life … to a point. They can see the benefits of a relationship with God, but they want it to be on their terms. They don’t want to lose control or to feel they are tied down. What they want, in other words, is a ‘casual relationship’; one in which they can think about God when they feel like it, where they can turn up when they have the time, and where what God wants is one factor among many in the decisions they make and how they live.
Their often-unspoken fear is that anything more than a casual relationship with God might mean God intruding into their lives and taking away their freedom. And let me say tonight that those who think like this have at least understood what a relationship with God means. They have understood the implications of God being ‘with us’, perhaps better than many who will be preaching on it!
St Catherine of Siena describes God as the ‘mad lover’, which is to say that God is so madly in love with us that he is not interested in a casual relationship with us. If God enters our life, he does so as he entered the world, that is, as a demanding and disruptive presence. When it comes to God being with us, it’s all or nothing. And this is simply not something that many are prepared to commit to.
No wonder, then, when confronted with the Divine Lover who wants all of us and wholehearted commitment from us, we are not so sure. And so, for many tonight, when it comes to our relationship with God: ‘It’s complicated’.
We cling to the hope that God will be happy with less than a fully committed relationship. I am sorry to have to tell you on tonight of all nights that he won’t. The Word didn’t become flesh for everything to continue as before as if nothing has happened. Too much has happened for that. What has happened is the Cross. St Paul puts it like this:
‘But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.’ (Romans 5:8)
God loved us so much, so madly, - to use St Catherine’s words - that not only did the Word become flesh and dwell among us, he went to the Cross and died for us, and now tonight he has turned up offering us an eternal life-long relationship with him. Or as St John puts it later in his Gospel:
‘For this is the way God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.’ (John 3:16)
God is not looking tonight for us to make a commitment that he hasn’t already been prepared to make himself.
God promises much in the relationship he is offering us: forgiveness, peace, joy, abundant life; always to be with us and, yes, always to be there for us, but he wants a response from us; he wants commitment. Now if we don’t want to respond and we are not interested in the relationship he is offering, if we don’t want to commit, then he won’t make us. This is about consent. That’s what faith is: consent and commitment. But you can’t have it both ways. The benefits of this relationship aren’t for friends; they are for lovers.
St John, after writing of the commitment that God has been willing to make to us in his Son, the Word made flesh, writes:
‘And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.’ (John 3:19)
The darkness once tried to put out the light and for a moment it looked as if it had succeeded, St John tells us, however, that the ‘light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it’. That doesn’t mean, however, that the darkness has given up, and many, now as then, prefer the darkness to the light.
Many choose to live their life in spiritual darkness seeking pleasure, possessions, power, and position in this world. And in the darkness, many find what they are looking for. But the darkness also finds them, enters them, and possesses them. Not only do they live in the darkness, the darkness now lives in them and threatens to destroy them.
Tonight, we are being given the chance to let the light of God shine in the darkness of our lives. Yes, that will be painful; light shows things up and reveals things that often we don’t want to see, but light also dispels darkness. God wants on this most holy night to dispel the darkness in our life and enter our life as an abiding presence in a committed relationship with us.
St Paul writes:
‘For it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.’ (2 Corinthians 4:6)
Here tonight, God is looking at us face to face, and, in the face of Christ, he is offering us a relationship with him. God has made the first move. He is reaching out to us. It doesn’t have to be complicated. Don’t tonight let the complications of this life lead to you missing out on the life that is being offered to you.
In a moment, I will light the last candle on our Advent wreath, the candle that represents the light of Christ. If you want to begin a relationship with God that’s not complicated, consider lighting a candle on our votive candle stand in church or if you are not able to light a candle in church, then lighting one at home. Do this as a sign and a prayer that you want to let God’s light into your life and to begin the relationship with him that God is offering you.
St John writes:
‘But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God …’ (John 1:12)
There is no better gift on offer this Christmas than the gift that is being offered to each of us here right now. Take that step of faith and let the light of God shine into your life.
Amen.
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Monday, December 27, 2021
Saturday, December 26, 2020
The First Sunday of Christmas
Here is the transcript of my sermon for this week, the First Sunday of Christmas.
Old Testament: Isaiah 61.10-62.3
The First Sunday of Christmas
Readings:
Readings:
New Testament: Galatians 4.4-7
The Gospel: Luke 2.15-21
It's been a very different Christmas this year. Many of us have been unable to meet with our families in the way we normally do, and have had to be content with seeing them on a screen instead. This has been one of the major downsides of the way we have had to celebrate Christmas. There are others as well, and we should spare a thought for those whose businesses and jobs have been affected by the present pandemic and who are struggling to cope. For many, it has been a very ‘bleak mid-winter’ indeed.
But having a such a different sort of Christmas hasn't been all bad. There is a positive side to it too. The first Christmas wasn't at all like how we normally celebrate or imagine it either; it was a very different sort of Christmas as well. Not being able to have a ‘traditional Christmas’ perhaps gives us an opportunity to ask what the first Christmas was really like. Our image of it is somewhat different to the reality.
Much as I love the carol, it wasn't ‘bleak mid-winter’! There wouldn't have been shepherds in the fields if it was (Luke 2:8). And while it is perfectly okay to have scenes on our Christmas cards showing what Christmas was and is like in parts of northern Europe, there wasn’t snow on the stable roof.
The image of the stable itself is only a half truth. The ‘inn’ with no room, from which Joseph and his pregnant wife are supposed to have been turned away, is a misunderstanding based on a wrong translation. The word St Luke uses, which has traditionally been translated ‘inn’, means lodging or guest room (Luke 2:7). It is the same word St Luke uses for the room where the Last Supper takes place (Luke 22:11). Is it likely that no-one in a Jewish village would help a mother about to give birth?
Our image of the baby Jesus surrounded by animals, at least, is right, although there is nothing particularly unusual about it. Middle Eastern homes brought the animals in at night for safe-keeping. We ought to think, then, of a place in the house away from everyone else where Mary could have some privacy. St Matthew tells us that when the Wise Men came, they came to the ‘house where they were staying’ (Matthew 2:11).
And while we are talking about the Wise Men, we are not told how many of them there were, only that they brought three gifts. The baby Jesus was probably out of the manger by the time they got there. After all, King Herod killed all the babies under two years of age (Matthew 2:16).
In our Gospel reading this week, we read how Mary and Joseph seem to be functioning perfectly normally only a few days after Jesus’ birth. The baby Jesus is circumcised on the ‘eighth day’, as was the standard practice according to the Law. We will read later in St Luke’s Gospel of how about forty days after the birth, Mary and Joseph take Jesus to the Temple, again following the practice laid down in the Law (Luke 2:22). The Holy Family obviously have a place to stay in Bethlehem on a long-term basis! It was one that, in all likelihood, they had arranged for in advance before making the trip to Bethlehem.
The way the Gospel writers describe the Nativity of Our Lord, is, then, very different to how we often imagine it today and to how we normally celebrate it.
Now I should say at once that I'm not for one moment suggesting that we join those who don't think that the birth of Jesus took place in the way the Gospel writers describe it. Sadly, there are those, both in the Church and outside of it, who treat the Christmas story as a kind of fairy story. For them, the Nativity is like the Nutcracker, the Messiah, or other works, that traditionally get performed at this time of the year. They think it is a great story and one that has a message for us, but they don’t think that most of it actually happened in the way the Gospel writers describe.
So, to avoid any misunderstanding: what I am saying is that the Christmas story, not only happened, but that it happened in precisely the way the Gospel writers say that it happened. What is more, it has to have happened in the way the Gospel writers tell us it happened or our faith is built on a shaky foundation.
It is because the Gospel writers are describing a historical event that is foundational to our faith that it is important that we stick to their account of how it happened and not embroider it to make it more fairy story like. The more we do that, the more unreal and detached from history it becomes. The Gospel writers are seeking to give an account of something that happened, and which it matters that it happened.
At Easter, we often read the words of St Paul in first Corinthians chapter 15. He tells those in the Church in Corinth who were doubting it, that if the resurrection has not happened, then we are misrepresenting God by saying that he has raised Christ from the dead. And if Christ is not raised and alive, St Paul writes, our ‘faith has been in vain’ (1 Corinthians 15:14), and we are ‘of all people most to be pitied’ (1 Corinthians 15:19). Central to our faith as believers and to who we are is the fact that Christ died and was raised, and is now alive.
But what is true of the death and resurrection of our Lord is true also of his birth and incarnation. If St Paul had been confronted with people who doubted the incarnation of our Lord and the story of his birth in the way some in the Church in Corinth doubted the story of his death and resurrection, then he would have written in a similar way. If Christ is not God Incarnate, the word made flesh, born of Mary, then we are of all people most to be pitied.
St John doesn’t quite put it in these words, but he says much the same thing, both in his Gospel and in his letters. In his letters, belief in the incarnation is a test of spiritual authenticity. St John writes:
‘By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God …’ (1 John 4:2)
The New Testament writers are all agreed on the importance of both the resurrection and the incarnation. St Peter speaks for them all when he writes:
‘For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ …’ (2 Peter 1:16)
Our faith is a historical faith. It is not simply general truths about life, in general, or about how we should live our own lives, in particular. It is frequently said that the world’s religions have much in common when it comes to their ethical teaching. And this is true to a point. This is often used as an argument as to why religions should lay aside what other differences they have and work more closely together based on the things they have in common.
This, however, shows a complete misunderstanding of the nature of our faith. Yes, as believers we do seek to live a certain way, we want to be good people, and in following Christ we aim to keep his commandments. But our faith is not a moral code; it is not a system of ethics. It is based completely and absolutely on a person and on certain beliefs about that person. Jesus is not a way but the way, as Jesus himself puts it in St John's Gospel (John 14:6).
St Paul writes in our second reading:
‘When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman …’ (Galatians 4:4)
The birth of Jesus was no chance happening; it was not an accident of history, something that happened at this time, but which could have happened at any other time. It had to be this time because this was the right time, God’s chosen time, ‘the fulness of time’.
The birth of Jesus was not just about God sending us a religious teacher or prophet to tell us about him and to show us how to live, this was God himself in the person of his Son entering space, time, and history. This baby ‘born of a woman’ was ‘Emmanuel, God with us’ (Matthew 1:23).
This is why we always read the beginning of St John’s Gospel on Christmas Night, even though it doesn’t mention the actual circumstances of Jesus’ birth. (If you haven’t had a chance to watch the service and listen to the sermon yet, then I would encourage you to do so. Not, I hasten to add, because I think it is an especially good sermon, but because I try to explain more fully what St John is trying to tell us in this amazing passage.)
At the heart of that passage is a truly incredible thought: ‘the Word became flesh and lived among us’ (John 1:14). St John, in this passage, has already told us that the One whom he calls the Word, was the One through whom all things came into existence and the One for whom all things came into existence. And then … and then … the One who is beyond all existence enters our existence, and not only enters it, but enters it as one of us, as exactly like us. ‘Emanuel’, not only God with us, but God one of us.
In the Ten Commandments, the Jewish people were absolutely forbidden to make any likeness or image of God. The Israelites were always tempted to make such images in the same way that the other nations made them. These idols were attempts to give their worshippers a visual image of the god being worshipped. God himself has now given us a visual image of himself in Mary's baby. St Paul writes to the Church in Colossae:
‘He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him.’ (Colossians 1:15-16)
It is hard for us quite to get our minds around it. This baby, whose birth we are celebrating, is the One who, even while he was still a baby, nothing and no-one could exist without because everything that exists depends on him not only to come into existence but to continue in existence. As St Paul goes on to write: ‘in him all things hold together’ (Colossians 1:17). Without him, everything would quite literally ‘fall apart’!
But here's the thing: although he perfectly and completely reveals God that's not why he came. As I said on Christmas Night, he didn't come to teach us spiritual truths, or to show us how to live, or to establish a church, although he does do all these things. He also didn't come simply to reveal God to us, although he does do that and does so definitively, so that if we want to know what God is like this is where we now look.
So why did he come? The clue lies in his name. As St Luke writes in our Gospel reading:
‘After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.’ (Luke 2:21)
The name Jesus means, ‘God saves’. The angel told Joseph that the reason he was to be called Jesus was that he would ‘save his people from their sins’ (Matthew 1:21). St Paul writes that God ‘sent his son, born of a woman, born under Law, in order to redeem those who were under the Law’. Why did we need redeeming from the Law? After all, St Paul is talking now about God’s Law? We needed redeeming from God’s Law, because God’s Law shows how bad and lost we are. How sinful we are. How far from God we are ‘having no hope and without God in the world’ (Ephesians 2:21). We are ‘in the darkness’, as St John puts it.
As we saw on Christmas Night, this baby in the Manger is the ‘Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world’ (John 1:29). But, and this is where it gets more amazing still, not only does Jesus save us from our sin, making it possible for us to find forgiveness and peace with God, he makes it possible, as St Paul writes, for us to be adopted as God’s children. And because we are God’s children, St Paul tells us:
‘God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’’ (Galatians 4:6)
This is not just St Paul letting his pen runaway with him, St John also writes:
‘But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God …’ (John 1:12)
We perhaps don't appreciate how amazing this is because we simply assume that we are already God’s children. We believe we are pretty special as it is. It is, of course, nice to be told that God loves us, but, then, we think, why wouldn't he? If that is how you think, then the message of Christmas is not for you. Christmas has nothing to offer you except for a change from the normal routine.
Christmas is for those who are sad, lonely, broken, and desperate. It is for those who know that they are not a success and are conscious of their failure. It is for those who know their sin. If this is you, then the message of Christmas most definitely is for you: ‘you shall call him Jesus for he shall save his people from their sin’ (Matthew 1:21); ‘behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world’ (John 1:29).
And not only will Jesus save you, he will also enable you to become a child of God and make you a part of his family. One saint said, ‘He became what we are so that we might become what He is’. Yes, Christmas really happened and because it happened, we can have hope, no matter how hopeless things around us may seem. One of the most popular Christmas carols has these words:
‘O holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin, and enter in:
be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels
the great glad tidings tell:
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord Emmanuel.’
The holy Child of Bethlehem whose birth we celebrate at Christmas was Emmanuel, God with us and because he was born, because it happened, he can be born in us today: ‘we can become what he is’ and, by God’s Spirit given to us, we can call God, Father.
Christmas is passing all too quickly. It will soon be time to deal with the pressing concerns and the realities of life. 2021 beckons, none of us knowing for certain what it will bring. Make sure you enter it as a child of God the Father, with God’s Son to accompany you, and his Spirit to guide you.
‘He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.’ (John 1:11-13)
Don’t let this Christmas pass without the holy Child of Bethlehem being born in you today.
Amen.
But having a such a different sort of Christmas hasn't been all bad. There is a positive side to it too. The first Christmas wasn't at all like how we normally celebrate or imagine it either; it was a very different sort of Christmas as well. Not being able to have a ‘traditional Christmas’ perhaps gives us an opportunity to ask what the first Christmas was really like. Our image of it is somewhat different to the reality.
Much as I love the carol, it wasn't ‘bleak mid-winter’! There wouldn't have been shepherds in the fields if it was (Luke 2:8). And while it is perfectly okay to have scenes on our Christmas cards showing what Christmas was and is like in parts of northern Europe, there wasn’t snow on the stable roof.
The image of the stable itself is only a half truth. The ‘inn’ with no room, from which Joseph and his pregnant wife are supposed to have been turned away, is a misunderstanding based on a wrong translation. The word St Luke uses, which has traditionally been translated ‘inn’, means lodging or guest room (Luke 2:7). It is the same word St Luke uses for the room where the Last Supper takes place (Luke 22:11). Is it likely that no-one in a Jewish village would help a mother about to give birth?
Our image of the baby Jesus surrounded by animals, at least, is right, although there is nothing particularly unusual about it. Middle Eastern homes brought the animals in at night for safe-keeping. We ought to think, then, of a place in the house away from everyone else where Mary could have some privacy. St Matthew tells us that when the Wise Men came, they came to the ‘house where they were staying’ (Matthew 2:11).
And while we are talking about the Wise Men, we are not told how many of them there were, only that they brought three gifts. The baby Jesus was probably out of the manger by the time they got there. After all, King Herod killed all the babies under two years of age (Matthew 2:16).
In our Gospel reading this week, we read how Mary and Joseph seem to be functioning perfectly normally only a few days after Jesus’ birth. The baby Jesus is circumcised on the ‘eighth day’, as was the standard practice according to the Law. We will read later in St Luke’s Gospel of how about forty days after the birth, Mary and Joseph take Jesus to the Temple, again following the practice laid down in the Law (Luke 2:22). The Holy Family obviously have a place to stay in Bethlehem on a long-term basis! It was one that, in all likelihood, they had arranged for in advance before making the trip to Bethlehem.
The way the Gospel writers describe the Nativity of Our Lord, is, then, very different to how we often imagine it today and to how we normally celebrate it.
Now I should say at once that I'm not for one moment suggesting that we join those who don't think that the birth of Jesus took place in the way the Gospel writers describe it. Sadly, there are those, both in the Church and outside of it, who treat the Christmas story as a kind of fairy story. For them, the Nativity is like the Nutcracker, the Messiah, or other works, that traditionally get performed at this time of the year. They think it is a great story and one that has a message for us, but they don’t think that most of it actually happened in the way the Gospel writers describe.
So, to avoid any misunderstanding: what I am saying is that the Christmas story, not only happened, but that it happened in precisely the way the Gospel writers say that it happened. What is more, it has to have happened in the way the Gospel writers tell us it happened or our faith is built on a shaky foundation.
It is because the Gospel writers are describing a historical event that is foundational to our faith that it is important that we stick to their account of how it happened and not embroider it to make it more fairy story like. The more we do that, the more unreal and detached from history it becomes. The Gospel writers are seeking to give an account of something that happened, and which it matters that it happened.
At Easter, we often read the words of St Paul in first Corinthians chapter 15. He tells those in the Church in Corinth who were doubting it, that if the resurrection has not happened, then we are misrepresenting God by saying that he has raised Christ from the dead. And if Christ is not raised and alive, St Paul writes, our ‘faith has been in vain’ (1 Corinthians 15:14), and we are ‘of all people most to be pitied’ (1 Corinthians 15:19). Central to our faith as believers and to who we are is the fact that Christ died and was raised, and is now alive.
But what is true of the death and resurrection of our Lord is true also of his birth and incarnation. If St Paul had been confronted with people who doubted the incarnation of our Lord and the story of his birth in the way some in the Church in Corinth doubted the story of his death and resurrection, then he would have written in a similar way. If Christ is not God Incarnate, the word made flesh, born of Mary, then we are of all people most to be pitied.
St John doesn’t quite put it in these words, but he says much the same thing, both in his Gospel and in his letters. In his letters, belief in the incarnation is a test of spiritual authenticity. St John writes:
‘By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God …’ (1 John 4:2)
The New Testament writers are all agreed on the importance of both the resurrection and the incarnation. St Peter speaks for them all when he writes:
‘For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ …’ (2 Peter 1:16)
Our faith is a historical faith. It is not simply general truths about life, in general, or about how we should live our own lives, in particular. It is frequently said that the world’s religions have much in common when it comes to their ethical teaching. And this is true to a point. This is often used as an argument as to why religions should lay aside what other differences they have and work more closely together based on the things they have in common.
This, however, shows a complete misunderstanding of the nature of our faith. Yes, as believers we do seek to live a certain way, we want to be good people, and in following Christ we aim to keep his commandments. But our faith is not a moral code; it is not a system of ethics. It is based completely and absolutely on a person and on certain beliefs about that person. Jesus is not a way but the way, as Jesus himself puts it in St John's Gospel (John 14:6).
St Paul writes in our second reading:
‘When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman …’ (Galatians 4:4)
The birth of Jesus was no chance happening; it was not an accident of history, something that happened at this time, but which could have happened at any other time. It had to be this time because this was the right time, God’s chosen time, ‘the fulness of time’.
The birth of Jesus was not just about God sending us a religious teacher or prophet to tell us about him and to show us how to live, this was God himself in the person of his Son entering space, time, and history. This baby ‘born of a woman’ was ‘Emmanuel, God with us’ (Matthew 1:23).
This is why we always read the beginning of St John’s Gospel on Christmas Night, even though it doesn’t mention the actual circumstances of Jesus’ birth. (If you haven’t had a chance to watch the service and listen to the sermon yet, then I would encourage you to do so. Not, I hasten to add, because I think it is an especially good sermon, but because I try to explain more fully what St John is trying to tell us in this amazing passage.)
At the heart of that passage is a truly incredible thought: ‘the Word became flesh and lived among us’ (John 1:14). St John, in this passage, has already told us that the One whom he calls the Word, was the One through whom all things came into existence and the One for whom all things came into existence. And then … and then … the One who is beyond all existence enters our existence, and not only enters it, but enters it as one of us, as exactly like us. ‘Emanuel’, not only God with us, but God one of us.
In the Ten Commandments, the Jewish people were absolutely forbidden to make any likeness or image of God. The Israelites were always tempted to make such images in the same way that the other nations made them. These idols were attempts to give their worshippers a visual image of the god being worshipped. God himself has now given us a visual image of himself in Mary's baby. St Paul writes to the Church in Colossae:
‘He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him.’ (Colossians 1:15-16)
It is hard for us quite to get our minds around it. This baby, whose birth we are celebrating, is the One who, even while he was still a baby, nothing and no-one could exist without because everything that exists depends on him not only to come into existence but to continue in existence. As St Paul goes on to write: ‘in him all things hold together’ (Colossians 1:17). Without him, everything would quite literally ‘fall apart’!
But here's the thing: although he perfectly and completely reveals God that's not why he came. As I said on Christmas Night, he didn't come to teach us spiritual truths, or to show us how to live, or to establish a church, although he does do all these things. He also didn't come simply to reveal God to us, although he does do that and does so definitively, so that if we want to know what God is like this is where we now look.
So why did he come? The clue lies in his name. As St Luke writes in our Gospel reading:
‘After eight days had passed, it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.’ (Luke 2:21)
The name Jesus means, ‘God saves’. The angel told Joseph that the reason he was to be called Jesus was that he would ‘save his people from their sins’ (Matthew 1:21). St Paul writes that God ‘sent his son, born of a woman, born under Law, in order to redeem those who were under the Law’. Why did we need redeeming from the Law? After all, St Paul is talking now about God’s Law? We needed redeeming from God’s Law, because God’s Law shows how bad and lost we are. How sinful we are. How far from God we are ‘having no hope and without God in the world’ (Ephesians 2:21). We are ‘in the darkness’, as St John puts it.
As we saw on Christmas Night, this baby in the Manger is the ‘Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world’ (John 1:29). But, and this is where it gets more amazing still, not only does Jesus save us from our sin, making it possible for us to find forgiveness and peace with God, he makes it possible, as St Paul writes, for us to be adopted as God’s children. And because we are God’s children, St Paul tells us:
‘God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba! Father!’’ (Galatians 4:6)
This is not just St Paul letting his pen runaway with him, St John also writes:
‘But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God …’ (John 1:12)
We perhaps don't appreciate how amazing this is because we simply assume that we are already God’s children. We believe we are pretty special as it is. It is, of course, nice to be told that God loves us, but, then, we think, why wouldn't he? If that is how you think, then the message of Christmas is not for you. Christmas has nothing to offer you except for a change from the normal routine.
Christmas is for those who are sad, lonely, broken, and desperate. It is for those who know that they are not a success and are conscious of their failure. It is for those who know their sin. If this is you, then the message of Christmas most definitely is for you: ‘you shall call him Jesus for he shall save his people from their sin’ (Matthew 1:21); ‘behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world’ (John 1:29).
And not only will Jesus save you, he will also enable you to become a child of God and make you a part of his family. One saint said, ‘He became what we are so that we might become what He is’. Yes, Christmas really happened and because it happened, we can have hope, no matter how hopeless things around us may seem. One of the most popular Christmas carols has these words:
‘O holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin, and enter in:
be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels
the great glad tidings tell:
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord Emmanuel.’
The holy Child of Bethlehem whose birth we celebrate at Christmas was Emmanuel, God with us and because he was born, because it happened, he can be born in us today: ‘we can become what he is’ and, by God’s Spirit given to us, we can call God, Father.
Christmas is passing all too quickly. It will soon be time to deal with the pressing concerns and the realities of life. 2021 beckons, none of us knowing for certain what it will bring. Make sure you enter it as a child of God the Father, with God’s Son to accompany you, and his Spirit to guide you.
‘He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.’ (John 1:11-13)
Don’t let this Christmas pass without the holy Child of Bethlehem being born in you today.
Amen.
Thursday, December 24, 2020
The Nativity of Our Lord
This is the transcript of my sermon for the Nativity of our Lord on Christmas Night.
Reading: John 1:1-18
Our Gospel reading tonight, as it is every Christmas night, is the beginning of St John’s Gospel. It is a well-known and much-loved reading: ‘In the beginning was the Word ...’. This opening immediately sets St John’s Gospel apart from the other three Gospels. St Mark, as we saw on the Second Sunday of Advent, begins his Gospel with the ministry of John the Baptist. St Matthew and St Luke go back to the birth of Jesus, and give an account of the events surrounding it. Then, like St Mark, they describe the baptism by John as the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.
St John, however, while also giving prominence to John the Baptist at the start of Jesus’ earthly ministry, goes back not to the birth of Jesus, nor even to the birth and beginning of all things, but to before the beginning. Before anything began, he writes, there was God and there was the Word.
Imagine that you are one of the first readers of the Gospel, reading it yourself for the first time. You might think you are about to begin a work of philosophy about the nature of existence and being. At one level you would be right. St John writes of the Word:
‘All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.’ (John 1:3)
In Greek, the language St John is writing in, the Greek for ‘word’ is ‘logos’. St John’s first readers would have been both Jews and Greeks. And both Jews and Greeks would have been familiar with the concept of the ‘logos’.
Any Jew hearing the phrase, ‘In the beginning …’ would immediately think of the book of Genesis. In Genesis, it is God’s word that brings everything into existence. God said, ‘Let there be light and there was light.’ God speaks everything into being. His word is sufficient.
The Greeks also knew about the ‘logos’. The ‘logos’ was the rational principle that governed and permeated everything in the universe, and which gave it meaning. The logos to the Greeks was a sort of first century equivalent of the ‘force’ in the Star Wars movies: not personal, but central and essential, nevertheless.
But then, St John writes something that would have utterly shocked both Jew and Greek:
‘And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory …’ (John 1:14)
Everything that St John writes initially about the Word, both Jew and Greek would understand, and would not have a problem with. They would see St John as using a literary device to write in personal terms about an abstract concept. The Jews were used to this technique. The concept of divine wisdom was often personified as a woman and spoken of in personal terms. Both Jew and Greek at first, then, would think that this is what St John is doing with the Word, but St John suddenly shocks his readers by telling us that the Word has become flesh; that is, become one of us.
But who is it? It is not until verse 17 that we are given a name for the Word made flesh:
‘The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.’ (John 1:17)
Jesus, so John is telling his readers, is not only the key to understanding the meaning of ‘life, the universe, and everything’, but it is also both through him and for him that everything came into existence in the first place. Everything that exists, has ever existed, or will ever exist finds the reason and purpose for its existence completely and solely in Christ.
Why does St John begin his Gospel like this? Well, he is about to give an account of the life and teaching of Jesus, and he wants to get something absolutely clear from the start. St John knows that his readers will have heard of Jesus. Some will also be believers. He wants them to know from the beginning that the One he is writing about is himself the beginning of all things.
Jesus is not simply another rabbi, philosopher, religious teacher, or prophet. When St John’s readers read what Jesus said and did, St John wants them to know just who it is who is saying and doing the things he describes. ‘We have seen his glory,’ St John writes, and in his Gospel, he writes about the glory he and his fellow disciples have seen in the signs that Jesus performed. St John wants us his readers to know that the person they are reading about is no ordinary person, He is the One whom, even as they read about him, they depend on for their existence. He is the ‘Word made flesh’.
Let us make no mistake then about what St John is telling us. He is saying that Jesus, whose birth we are celebrating tonight, is the One we too depend on for our existence, whether we realise it or not or whether we acknowledge it or not. In one sense, whether we believe in him or not doesn’t change anything; he remains the eternal Word of God. In another sense, however, whether we believe in him or not changes everything. St John tells us at the end of his Gospel the reason he has for writing his Gospel. It is:
‘ … so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.’ (John 20:31)
What St John is writing about is not the word of a religious teacher nor is it even the word of an inspired prophet, this is the Word made flesh. St John wants us to know just who Jesus is. St John wants us to sit up and take notice as if our lives depend on it because as St John will tell us, they really do.
Having caught his readers’ attention, St John begins his story of Jesus. What, then, is the first thing that he tells us about Jesus, the Word made flesh? The very first thing that is said in the Gospel about Jesus, when at last in verse 29 he makes his human appearance, is said by John the Baptist. This has to be important given the build up to it. So, what does John the Baptist say?
‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.’ (John 1:29)
Not, here is someone who can explain the mysteries of the universe. Not, here is someone who can show you how to live your life to the full. Not even, here is someone who can tell you what is right and wrong. St John, of course, believes that Jesus can do all these things, and much more besides, but first and foremost, he is the ‘Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world’.
The phrase, ‘Lamb of God’ is not one that means a lot to us today, but to devout Jews it would resonate with meaning. Lambs were sacrificed every day in the Temple. And they were sacrificed especially at Passover as Jews remembered the deliverance of Israel from slavery in Egypt.
St John begins his Gospel, not at the beginning but before the beginning; and he begins the earthly story of Jesus not by recounting its beginning, but by pointing us to its end. Jesus himself will refer throughout his ministry to this as ‘his hour’. This is what he, as the ‘Word made flesh’, came to do. As he enters Jerusalem at the end of his life, Jesus asks:
‘And what should I say – ‘Father save me from this hour? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour.’ (John 12: 27)
This is not what we want to hear. We are taking part in this service, in this unusual way, because we want, in the midst of all the chaos and negative headlines of the moment, at least to start Christmas on a positive note. We like the reassurance of the story of Mary and Joseph and the baby in the Manger; of the shepherds and the wise men; the message of peace on earth and of hope for the future. St John, however, brutally shatters our cozy image.
Just as we are gazing in wonder at the baby in the Manger, St John tells us that this baby we are gazing on is going to be sacrificed for our sin. Nailed to a cross, he who gives life to all men will by men be killed: ‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.’
When John the Baptist says this, two of John’s own disciples immediately start to follow Jesus. Jesus turns to them and, in the first words that St John records Jesus as saying, asks them: ‘What are you seeking? (John 1:38)’. In the Gospel, people will come to Jesus seeking many things from answers to their questions to healing for their lives. The two disciples, however, reply simply, ‘Where are you staying?’ In other words, it is sufficient for them to be with him. If this is truly the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, they cannot afford to let him out of their sight; they have to be with him. Jesus replies equally simply: ‘Come and you will see.’ (John 1:39).
And this is the invitation that is being extended to us as we read about the Word made flesh. St John is inviting us to ‘come and see’. St John has already told us that the One he invites us to come and see is the One who is the light of the world. And the light, he tells us shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. This is something we can all relate to for the world can seem very dark at times.
We know this only two well both here in Hong Kong and in the world, in general, at the moment. There seems to be so much that is wrong with the world and with society around us. For us locally, in Hong Kong, there is the ongoing crisis caused by the pandemic and the aftermath of the protests. Globally, apart from the pandemic, our world is facing many problems, not least with climate change and the uncertainties caused by global politics. As one British newspaper put it last weekend: ‘When will this nightmare end?’ We could all do with some light.
But while we may be only too aware of the problems that the world faces locally and globally, St John won’t let us off individually and personally. For the darkness is not something out there, the darkness is something in here: in the heart of each one of us. If all we needed was someone to guide us and show us the way, the Word would not have needed to become flesh. After all, as St John reminds us, we already have God's Law given to us by God through Moses. No, what we needed, and what we need, is someone to take away our sin. The sin that not only keeps us in the darkness, but the sin that also makes us a part of that darkness.
For our need tonight, is not for someone who can explain the mysteries of the universe to us; not for someone to show us how to live a happy and fulfilled life; not for someone to show us what is right and wrong. We even need more than someone who can give us forgiveness for our sins; we need someone who can save us from our sin. We are prisoners who need freeing, addicts who need delivering, the spiritually blind who need healing. But there can be no light, no hope, and no future for us while we remain trapped by our sin, lost, and in the darkness.
As, tonight, we look on the Word made flesh, St John says to each of us: ‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.’ The Blessed Virgin Mary was told she was to call the baby, who she would miraculously conceive and give birth to, Jesus. As if to make sure there is no doubt as to the baby’s name an angel also appears to tell Joseph the same. The angel explains that the reason why they are to call the baby’s name Jesus is that ‘he shall save his people from their sins (Matthew 1:21)’. The name Jesus means, ‘God saves’. And in Jesus, the Word made flesh, God has entered our world as the Lamb of God who does just that.
We read at the beginning of our service that amazing verse from later in St John's Gospel:
‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.’ (John 3:16)
Christmas is about giving. The thing about gifts is that they need opening. Tonight, God is offering each one of us the greatest gift of all, the gift of his Son, the Word made flesh, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. The question is: will we open it? In our Gospel reading, St John tells us that ‘he came to his own and his own did not receive him’ (John 1:11). They refused the gift.
St John continues, however:
‘But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God …’ (John 1:12)
Tonight, will we receive or refuse the gift?
Many of you tonight as you watch this are experiencing darkness and facing your own personal nightmare. You are coping with sickness, bereavement, tragedy, financial uncertainty, and, not least, worries about your children and their future. The gift God is offering to us is not only forgiveness, but the possibility of a new life and a new beginning. A new life lived with God and in God rather than in darkness. But for that to happen, tonight must be about more than a nice way to start Christmas. It must be about deciding between light and darkness, life and death.
Tonight, we are offered the chance to receive the life of God. Life that can be ours because Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world and who will take away our sin if we let him. Take away the sin that keeps us in darkness and that prevents us from experiencing the light and life of God.
Those first two disciples responded to Jesus’ invitation. They came and saw where he was staying, and, we are told, they stayed with him (John 1:39). Jesus doesn’t want spectators, he wants followers. To be a follower of Jesus is about more than believing certain things about him, more than keeping his teaching, more than joining his Church. It is about staying with him and entering a relationship with him that is intimate and real, so real that Jesus describes it as feeding on him, that is, becoming completely dependent on him. Jesus is the Word made flesh, and Jesus will tell his disciples later in John’s Gospel:
‘Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.’ (John 6:53-56)
It is eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the Lamb of God, the Word made flesh, that makes it possible for us to stay with him, to abide in him, and to live for him.
And so, we begin Christmas now, not by gathering at the Manger to celebrate and to wonder at his birth, but at the altar both to remember and to participate in his death. For it is in his death that we discover our life and by feeding on him that we continue in his life.
As you watch this service, you have responded to Jesus’ invitation to come and see. But now you have to make a decision as to whether you will also stay.
When Jesus told his disciples what it meant to follow him many turned back and ‘no longer went about with him’ (John 6:66). They refused to stay him with any longer. Jesus, then, asks his closest disciples including the original two disciples who he invited to come and see, ‘Do you also wish to go away?’ (John 6:67).
St Peter answers for them all. May his answer also be our answer this Christmas:
‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.’ (John 6:68)
‘The Word became flesh and lived among us.’
‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
‘Come and see.’
Come and stay.
Amen.
Our Gospel reading tonight, as it is every Christmas night, is the beginning of St John’s Gospel. It is a well-known and much-loved reading: ‘In the beginning was the Word ...’. This opening immediately sets St John’s Gospel apart from the other three Gospels. St Mark, as we saw on the Second Sunday of Advent, begins his Gospel with the ministry of John the Baptist. St Matthew and St Luke go back to the birth of Jesus, and give an account of the events surrounding it. Then, like St Mark, they describe the baptism by John as the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.
St John, however, while also giving prominence to John the Baptist at the start of Jesus’ earthly ministry, goes back not to the birth of Jesus, nor even to the birth and beginning of all things, but to before the beginning. Before anything began, he writes, there was God and there was the Word.
Imagine that you are one of the first readers of the Gospel, reading it yourself for the first time. You might think you are about to begin a work of philosophy about the nature of existence and being. At one level you would be right. St John writes of the Word:
‘All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.’ (John 1:3)
In Greek, the language St John is writing in, the Greek for ‘word’ is ‘logos’. St John’s first readers would have been both Jews and Greeks. And both Jews and Greeks would have been familiar with the concept of the ‘logos’.
Any Jew hearing the phrase, ‘In the beginning …’ would immediately think of the book of Genesis. In Genesis, it is God’s word that brings everything into existence. God said, ‘Let there be light and there was light.’ God speaks everything into being. His word is sufficient.
The Greeks also knew about the ‘logos’. The ‘logos’ was the rational principle that governed and permeated everything in the universe, and which gave it meaning. The logos to the Greeks was a sort of first century equivalent of the ‘force’ in the Star Wars movies: not personal, but central and essential, nevertheless.
But then, St John writes something that would have utterly shocked both Jew and Greek:
‘And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory …’ (John 1:14)
Everything that St John writes initially about the Word, both Jew and Greek would understand, and would not have a problem with. They would see St John as using a literary device to write in personal terms about an abstract concept. The Jews were used to this technique. The concept of divine wisdom was often personified as a woman and spoken of in personal terms. Both Jew and Greek at first, then, would think that this is what St John is doing with the Word, but St John suddenly shocks his readers by telling us that the Word has become flesh; that is, become one of us.
But who is it? It is not until verse 17 that we are given a name for the Word made flesh:
‘The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.’ (John 1:17)
Jesus, so John is telling his readers, is not only the key to understanding the meaning of ‘life, the universe, and everything’, but it is also both through him and for him that everything came into existence in the first place. Everything that exists, has ever existed, or will ever exist finds the reason and purpose for its existence completely and solely in Christ.
Why does St John begin his Gospel like this? Well, he is about to give an account of the life and teaching of Jesus, and he wants to get something absolutely clear from the start. St John knows that his readers will have heard of Jesus. Some will also be believers. He wants them to know from the beginning that the One he is writing about is himself the beginning of all things.
Jesus is not simply another rabbi, philosopher, religious teacher, or prophet. When St John’s readers read what Jesus said and did, St John wants them to know just who it is who is saying and doing the things he describes. ‘We have seen his glory,’ St John writes, and in his Gospel, he writes about the glory he and his fellow disciples have seen in the signs that Jesus performed. St John wants us his readers to know that the person they are reading about is no ordinary person, He is the One whom, even as they read about him, they depend on for their existence. He is the ‘Word made flesh’.
Let us make no mistake then about what St John is telling us. He is saying that Jesus, whose birth we are celebrating tonight, is the One we too depend on for our existence, whether we realise it or not or whether we acknowledge it or not. In one sense, whether we believe in him or not doesn’t change anything; he remains the eternal Word of God. In another sense, however, whether we believe in him or not changes everything. St John tells us at the end of his Gospel the reason he has for writing his Gospel. It is:
‘ … so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.’ (John 20:31)
What St John is writing about is not the word of a religious teacher nor is it even the word of an inspired prophet, this is the Word made flesh. St John wants us to know just who Jesus is. St John wants us to sit up and take notice as if our lives depend on it because as St John will tell us, they really do.
Having caught his readers’ attention, St John begins his story of Jesus. What, then, is the first thing that he tells us about Jesus, the Word made flesh? The very first thing that is said in the Gospel about Jesus, when at last in verse 29 he makes his human appearance, is said by John the Baptist. This has to be important given the build up to it. So, what does John the Baptist say?
‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.’ (John 1:29)
Not, here is someone who can explain the mysteries of the universe. Not, here is someone who can show you how to live your life to the full. Not even, here is someone who can tell you what is right and wrong. St John, of course, believes that Jesus can do all these things, and much more besides, but first and foremost, he is the ‘Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world’.
The phrase, ‘Lamb of God’ is not one that means a lot to us today, but to devout Jews it would resonate with meaning. Lambs were sacrificed every day in the Temple. And they were sacrificed especially at Passover as Jews remembered the deliverance of Israel from slavery in Egypt.
St John begins his Gospel, not at the beginning but before the beginning; and he begins the earthly story of Jesus not by recounting its beginning, but by pointing us to its end. Jesus himself will refer throughout his ministry to this as ‘his hour’. This is what he, as the ‘Word made flesh’, came to do. As he enters Jerusalem at the end of his life, Jesus asks:
‘And what should I say – ‘Father save me from this hour? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour.’ (John 12: 27)
This is not what we want to hear. We are taking part in this service, in this unusual way, because we want, in the midst of all the chaos and negative headlines of the moment, at least to start Christmas on a positive note. We like the reassurance of the story of Mary and Joseph and the baby in the Manger; of the shepherds and the wise men; the message of peace on earth and of hope for the future. St John, however, brutally shatters our cozy image.
Just as we are gazing in wonder at the baby in the Manger, St John tells us that this baby we are gazing on is going to be sacrificed for our sin. Nailed to a cross, he who gives life to all men will by men be killed: ‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.’
When John the Baptist says this, two of John’s own disciples immediately start to follow Jesus. Jesus turns to them and, in the first words that St John records Jesus as saying, asks them: ‘What are you seeking? (John 1:38)’. In the Gospel, people will come to Jesus seeking many things from answers to their questions to healing for their lives. The two disciples, however, reply simply, ‘Where are you staying?’ In other words, it is sufficient for them to be with him. If this is truly the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, they cannot afford to let him out of their sight; they have to be with him. Jesus replies equally simply: ‘Come and you will see.’ (John 1:39).
And this is the invitation that is being extended to us as we read about the Word made flesh. St John is inviting us to ‘come and see’. St John has already told us that the One he invites us to come and see is the One who is the light of the world. And the light, he tells us shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. This is something we can all relate to for the world can seem very dark at times.
We know this only two well both here in Hong Kong and in the world, in general, at the moment. There seems to be so much that is wrong with the world and with society around us. For us locally, in Hong Kong, there is the ongoing crisis caused by the pandemic and the aftermath of the protests. Globally, apart from the pandemic, our world is facing many problems, not least with climate change and the uncertainties caused by global politics. As one British newspaper put it last weekend: ‘When will this nightmare end?’ We could all do with some light.
But while we may be only too aware of the problems that the world faces locally and globally, St John won’t let us off individually and personally. For the darkness is not something out there, the darkness is something in here: in the heart of each one of us. If all we needed was someone to guide us and show us the way, the Word would not have needed to become flesh. After all, as St John reminds us, we already have God's Law given to us by God through Moses. No, what we needed, and what we need, is someone to take away our sin. The sin that not only keeps us in the darkness, but the sin that also makes us a part of that darkness.
For our need tonight, is not for someone who can explain the mysteries of the universe to us; not for someone to show us how to live a happy and fulfilled life; not for someone to show us what is right and wrong. We even need more than someone who can give us forgiveness for our sins; we need someone who can save us from our sin. We are prisoners who need freeing, addicts who need delivering, the spiritually blind who need healing. But there can be no light, no hope, and no future for us while we remain trapped by our sin, lost, and in the darkness.
As, tonight, we look on the Word made flesh, St John says to each of us: ‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.’ The Blessed Virgin Mary was told she was to call the baby, who she would miraculously conceive and give birth to, Jesus. As if to make sure there is no doubt as to the baby’s name an angel also appears to tell Joseph the same. The angel explains that the reason why they are to call the baby’s name Jesus is that ‘he shall save his people from their sins (Matthew 1:21)’. The name Jesus means, ‘God saves’. And in Jesus, the Word made flesh, God has entered our world as the Lamb of God who does just that.
We read at the beginning of our service that amazing verse from later in St John's Gospel:
‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.’ (John 3:16)
Christmas is about giving. The thing about gifts is that they need opening. Tonight, God is offering each one of us the greatest gift of all, the gift of his Son, the Word made flesh, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. The question is: will we open it? In our Gospel reading, St John tells us that ‘he came to his own and his own did not receive him’ (John 1:11). They refused the gift.
St John continues, however:
‘But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God …’ (John 1:12)
Tonight, will we receive or refuse the gift?
Many of you tonight as you watch this are experiencing darkness and facing your own personal nightmare. You are coping with sickness, bereavement, tragedy, financial uncertainty, and, not least, worries about your children and their future. The gift God is offering to us is not only forgiveness, but the possibility of a new life and a new beginning. A new life lived with God and in God rather than in darkness. But for that to happen, tonight must be about more than a nice way to start Christmas. It must be about deciding between light and darkness, life and death.
Tonight, we are offered the chance to receive the life of God. Life that can be ours because Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world and who will take away our sin if we let him. Take away the sin that keeps us in darkness and that prevents us from experiencing the light and life of God.
Those first two disciples responded to Jesus’ invitation. They came and saw where he was staying, and, we are told, they stayed with him (John 1:39). Jesus doesn’t want spectators, he wants followers. To be a follower of Jesus is about more than believing certain things about him, more than keeping his teaching, more than joining his Church. It is about staying with him and entering a relationship with him that is intimate and real, so real that Jesus describes it as feeding on him, that is, becoming completely dependent on him. Jesus is the Word made flesh, and Jesus will tell his disciples later in John’s Gospel:
‘Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.’ (John 6:53-56)
It is eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the Lamb of God, the Word made flesh, that makes it possible for us to stay with him, to abide in him, and to live for him.
And so, we begin Christmas now, not by gathering at the Manger to celebrate and to wonder at his birth, but at the altar both to remember and to participate in his death. For it is in his death that we discover our life and by feeding on him that we continue in his life.
As you watch this service, you have responded to Jesus’ invitation to come and see. But now you have to make a decision as to whether you will also stay.
When Jesus told his disciples what it meant to follow him many turned back and ‘no longer went about with him’ (John 6:66). They refused to stay him with any longer. Jesus, then, asks his closest disciples including the original two disciples who he invited to come and see, ‘Do you also wish to go away?’ (John 6:67).
St Peter answers for them all. May his answer also be our answer this Christmas:
‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.’ (John 6:68)
‘The Word became flesh and lived among us.’
‘Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
‘Come and see.’
Come and stay.
Amen.
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
Christmas Night 2017
Well we have at last reached Christmas! We have been counting down the weeks during Advent by lighting the Advent candles – and later, during this Service, we will light the last one! Some of us for the past few days have been counting down the days using the ‘Great O Antiphons’. All over the world tonight, Christians are celebrating the Feast of the Nativity of our Lord. Whatever we may say about Easter being theologically the most important day in the Christian calendar, there can be little doubt that Christmas is the one that is the most celebrated and loved.
It comes as a surprise then to discover that it wasn’t this way in the Church for many years. St Paul, for example, never discusses the birth of our Lord except to say that he was ‘born of a woman’, and the first Gospel we have, St Mark, launches into our Lord’s ministry without any mention of his birth or childhood.
In the 2nd century, Christians even mocked the pagans for celebrating the birthdays of prominent figures. What mattered to them was the significance, not of Jesus’ birth, but of his death. This is easily illustrated by observing how much of each Gospel is devoted to the last week of our Lord’s life compared to the years leading up to it. This does not for a moment mean that we should not today be celebrating our Lord’s birth, but it is a warning not to celebrate it in an emotional and sentimental way: enjoying the story, but failing to see its meaning and its significance for each one of us personally.
Originally, the Gospels circulated separately from each other. And not only the Gospels, but the stories of Jesus themselves. We know that the stories of Jesus were passed on not simply, or even primarily, in written form, but, in a culture with low rates of literacy, they were passed on in oral form, that is, by word of mouth. Very few of these stories concern our Lord’s birth; many concern his death and the events leading up to it.
It is clear from even the briefest of readings of the Gospels that St John’s Gospel is different from the other three. Matthew, Mark, and Luke have much in common and are referred to as the synoptic (=viewed together) Gospels. St John assumes that his readers will already be familiar with many of these stories about Jesus and that they may have read at least St Mark’s Gospel. His purpose in writing is not to tell or retell the stories, but to get behind them and explain the significance of the one who the stories are about and of the one who himself told many of the stories in the Gospels. And in explaining Jesus’ significance, St John wants to show us the significance of Jesus for each one of us personally.
The reading tonight, known as the Prologue, is the introduction to the Gospel. It sets the scene for what is to follow by telling us in advance what the plot is and introducing us to the Gospel’s central character. St John wants to leave us in absolutely no doubt as to who Jesus is. This is to be a theme of his Gospel. Whereas the other Gospels focus on what Jesus did, on his works, St John focuses on the person of Jesus, who he is.
This is the Gospel that has the ‘Great I am’ sayings. It is this person that our reading introduces us to, but St John manages to do it without at first mentioning his name. He tells us the name of John the Baptist who came to witness to Jesus, but he doesn’t use the name ‘Jesus’ until verse17.
The purpose of the Prologue is to introduce us to the Word, it is only once we have been introduced to the Word that we are told who the Word is. We are told that the Word was in the beginning with God and that all the things came into being through him. In this Word was life and light. John the Baptist bore witness to this Light, the True Light. And then, we are told, something amazing: the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
If you were reading John for the first time the obvious question at this point is, Who is he? What is his name? It is only now that St John reveals it: his name is Jesus. It is as if he is saying to his readers that this man they may have heard stories about, the one known as Jesus of Nazareth is, in fact, the Eternal Word of God through whom everything – everything – that exists came into being.
This Eternal Word came into the world that he himself hand been instrumental in creating!
But what sort of world was it? It was a world dominated by Roman power and by one man in particular: Caesar Augustus. Augustus used to like to boast of his achievements. One he was particularly proud of was the Pax Romana – the Peace of Rome. Rome, he boasted, had given the world peace. But this was simply propaganda. The so-called peace was one imposed by Roman might and power. A peace in which rebellion was ruthlessly crushed and oppression was the order of the day. This oppression found expression in tax. Rome taxed its subject peoples to maintain its power and finance its empire. Tax was not popular then as it is not popular now. But then in those days those taxed saw very little benefit from paying their taxes. In AD6 the people of Sepphoris, a major city in Galilee just 5 miles from Nazareth, revolted against paying taxes. The Romans burnt the city to the ground after crushing the revolt.
It was Roman tax policy that was to be responsible for Jesus being born in Bethlehem. As is well-known, Caesar Augustus issued a decree that ‘all the world’ should be registered for taxation purposes. All had to go to their own town to be registered. This meant Joseph having to go with his pregnant wife, Mary, from Nazareth to his home town of Bethlehem.
Caesar had displayed his power by moving people around at his whim and fancy. Or, at least, that is what he thought he was doing. In fact, he was simply a puppet fulfilling God’s purposes. The Christ had to be born in Bethlehem. The Son of David had to be born in Royal David’s City. Caesar was carrying out not the plan of Rome, but the plan of God.
2016 has been quite a year. It is already being described by commentators as a year in which the world has changed. They point to Brexit in the UK and the election of Donald Trump in the US. It has been a year of mass migration, of the increasing military involvement of Russia in world affairs, and 2017 looks like it will continue where 2016 is leaving off. There will be important elections in France and Germany. And, of course, here at home in Hong Kong, we will have the election of a new Chief Executive.
It is all too easy for us as Christians to get caught up in all of this and focus on the various events and their significance: to see power as residing in the various leaders of our world: in Washington, Moscow, and Beijing with the modern day Caesars.
This is reflected in many of the Churches’ Christmas messages. These talk of the role of the Church in the various events taking place or about to take place in our world. Those giving them seek to explain how the Church should react and what role it should play.
Undoubtedly, the events taking place in our world are important and Christians undoubtedly have a role to play in them - although it may be a different role to the one we are being urged to play. (More about that another time.)
We are wrong, however, if we focus on those who, like Caesar, pretend to have the power and fail to see behind their power. When our Lord was being questioned by Caesar’s representative in Jerusalem, Pilate said to Jesus: ‘Do you not know that I have power to release you and power to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him: ‘You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above…’ (John 19:10-11)
This means, Trump, has no power; Putin has no power, and the new Chief Executive, whoever he or she maybe, has no power unless it is given them from above. One saint said that while still an infant at his mother’s breast, Jesus was upholding the universe with the word of his power. The danger is that by focusing on world leaders and the events of our world, we can end up thinking and giving the impression that it is with the rulers of this world that real power resides and what should concern us most are the various political, economic, and social events taking place at the present time.
In fact, there is more power here tonight in this Church than in all the parliaments or legislatives of our world. It is a power that concerns each one of us and affects us far more than all the decisions of world leaders whoever they maybe.
St John writes about the Word, who we know to be Jesus that ‘he came to his own and his own people did not accept him.’ This is the story of Jesus’ rejection by his people Israel. However, John continues: ‘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.’
We think we have come here tonight to celebrate the birth of Christ, but it turns out that God has brought us here, not only to celebrate his son’s birth, but to ask us questions about our own birth: do we want to be born tonight, born that is, not of the will of the flesh, or of the will of man, but of God?
God is giving us the chance to make tonight not simply about the birth of his son some 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem, but about our birth now in 2016 in Hong Kong.
God does not allow us to be spectators at the Nativity. We have a decision to make. Will we be amongst those who did not receive him? Or will we receive him, that is, will we believe in his name and commit ourselves to him? If we do then tonight will become a celebration of our nativity as well as that of our Lord’s.
So tonight, on this most Holy Night, we all have a decision to make, a decision of far more consequence than we will make in any election. Will we receive him? Will we believe in his name? Will we become a child of God?
Tonight he gives us that power. The only question is now whether we will use it.
It comes as a surprise then to discover that it wasn’t this way in the Church for many years. St Paul, for example, never discusses the birth of our Lord except to say that he was ‘born of a woman’, and the first Gospel we have, St Mark, launches into our Lord’s ministry without any mention of his birth or childhood.
In the 2nd century, Christians even mocked the pagans for celebrating the birthdays of prominent figures. What mattered to them was the significance, not of Jesus’ birth, but of his death. This is easily illustrated by observing how much of each Gospel is devoted to the last week of our Lord’s life compared to the years leading up to it. This does not for a moment mean that we should not today be celebrating our Lord’s birth, but it is a warning not to celebrate it in an emotional and sentimental way: enjoying the story, but failing to see its meaning and its significance for each one of us personally.
Originally, the Gospels circulated separately from each other. And not only the Gospels, but the stories of Jesus themselves. We know that the stories of Jesus were passed on not simply, or even primarily, in written form, but, in a culture with low rates of literacy, they were passed on in oral form, that is, by word of mouth. Very few of these stories concern our Lord’s birth; many concern his death and the events leading up to it.
It is clear from even the briefest of readings of the Gospels that St John’s Gospel is different from the other three. Matthew, Mark, and Luke have much in common and are referred to as the synoptic (=viewed together) Gospels. St John assumes that his readers will already be familiar with many of these stories about Jesus and that they may have read at least St Mark’s Gospel. His purpose in writing is not to tell or retell the stories, but to get behind them and explain the significance of the one who the stories are about and of the one who himself told many of the stories in the Gospels. And in explaining Jesus’ significance, St John wants to show us the significance of Jesus for each one of us personally.
The reading tonight, known as the Prologue, is the introduction to the Gospel. It sets the scene for what is to follow by telling us in advance what the plot is and introducing us to the Gospel’s central character. St John wants to leave us in absolutely no doubt as to who Jesus is. This is to be a theme of his Gospel. Whereas the other Gospels focus on what Jesus did, on his works, St John focuses on the person of Jesus, who he is.
This is the Gospel that has the ‘Great I am’ sayings. It is this person that our reading introduces us to, but St John manages to do it without at first mentioning his name. He tells us the name of John the Baptist who came to witness to Jesus, but he doesn’t use the name ‘Jesus’ until verse17.
The purpose of the Prologue is to introduce us to the Word, it is only once we have been introduced to the Word that we are told who the Word is. We are told that the Word was in the beginning with God and that all the things came into being through him. In this Word was life and light. John the Baptist bore witness to this Light, the True Light. And then, we are told, something amazing: the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
If you were reading John for the first time the obvious question at this point is, Who is he? What is his name? It is only now that St John reveals it: his name is Jesus. It is as if he is saying to his readers that this man they may have heard stories about, the one known as Jesus of Nazareth is, in fact, the Eternal Word of God through whom everything – everything – that exists came into being.
This Eternal Word came into the world that he himself hand been instrumental in creating!
But what sort of world was it? It was a world dominated by Roman power and by one man in particular: Caesar Augustus. Augustus used to like to boast of his achievements. One he was particularly proud of was the Pax Romana – the Peace of Rome. Rome, he boasted, had given the world peace. But this was simply propaganda. The so-called peace was one imposed by Roman might and power. A peace in which rebellion was ruthlessly crushed and oppression was the order of the day. This oppression found expression in tax. Rome taxed its subject peoples to maintain its power and finance its empire. Tax was not popular then as it is not popular now. But then in those days those taxed saw very little benefit from paying their taxes. In AD6 the people of Sepphoris, a major city in Galilee just 5 miles from Nazareth, revolted against paying taxes. The Romans burnt the city to the ground after crushing the revolt.
It was Roman tax policy that was to be responsible for Jesus being born in Bethlehem. As is well-known, Caesar Augustus issued a decree that ‘all the world’ should be registered for taxation purposes. All had to go to their own town to be registered. This meant Joseph having to go with his pregnant wife, Mary, from Nazareth to his home town of Bethlehem.
Caesar had displayed his power by moving people around at his whim and fancy. Or, at least, that is what he thought he was doing. In fact, he was simply a puppet fulfilling God’s purposes. The Christ had to be born in Bethlehem. The Son of David had to be born in Royal David’s City. Caesar was carrying out not the plan of Rome, but the plan of God.
2016 has been quite a year. It is already being described by commentators as a year in which the world has changed. They point to Brexit in the UK and the election of Donald Trump in the US. It has been a year of mass migration, of the increasing military involvement of Russia in world affairs, and 2017 looks like it will continue where 2016 is leaving off. There will be important elections in France and Germany. And, of course, here at home in Hong Kong, we will have the election of a new Chief Executive.
It is all too easy for us as Christians to get caught up in all of this and focus on the various events and their significance: to see power as residing in the various leaders of our world: in Washington, Moscow, and Beijing with the modern day Caesars.
This is reflected in many of the Churches’ Christmas messages. These talk of the role of the Church in the various events taking place or about to take place in our world. Those giving them seek to explain how the Church should react and what role it should play.
Undoubtedly, the events taking place in our world are important and Christians undoubtedly have a role to play in them - although it may be a different role to the one we are being urged to play. (More about that another time.)
We are wrong, however, if we focus on those who, like Caesar, pretend to have the power and fail to see behind their power. When our Lord was being questioned by Caesar’s representative in Jerusalem, Pilate said to Jesus: ‘Do you not know that I have power to release you and power to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him: ‘You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above…’ (John 19:10-11)
This means, Trump, has no power; Putin has no power, and the new Chief Executive, whoever he or she maybe, has no power unless it is given them from above. One saint said that while still an infant at his mother’s breast, Jesus was upholding the universe with the word of his power. The danger is that by focusing on world leaders and the events of our world, we can end up thinking and giving the impression that it is with the rulers of this world that real power resides and what should concern us most are the various political, economic, and social events taking place at the present time.
In fact, there is more power here tonight in this Church than in all the parliaments or legislatives of our world. It is a power that concerns each one of us and affects us far more than all the decisions of world leaders whoever they maybe.
St John writes about the Word, who we know to be Jesus that ‘he came to his own and his own people did not accept him.’ This is the story of Jesus’ rejection by his people Israel. However, John continues: ‘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.’
We think we have come here tonight to celebrate the birth of Christ, but it turns out that God has brought us here, not only to celebrate his son’s birth, but to ask us questions about our own birth: do we want to be born tonight, born that is, not of the will of the flesh, or of the will of man, but of God?
God is giving us the chance to make tonight not simply about the birth of his son some 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem, but about our birth now in 2016 in Hong Kong.
God does not allow us to be spectators at the Nativity. We have a decision to make. Will we be amongst those who did not receive him? Or will we receive him, that is, will we believe in his name and commit ourselves to him? If we do then tonight will become a celebration of our nativity as well as that of our Lord’s.
So tonight, on this most Holy Night, we all have a decision to make, a decision of far more consequence than we will make in any election. Will we receive him? Will we believe in his name? Will we become a child of God?
Tonight he gives us that power. The only question is now whether we will use it.
Saturday, March 18, 2017
Carol Service 2017
It’s
no secret that I love Christmas: all of it.
The tree, the mistletoe (especially the mistletoe), the presents, the
crackers, the Poinsettias – I’m not mad on the mince pies, but I would be sad
if you didn’t like them, and hope you will stay for some and a cup of mulled
wine after the service.
I
think most of you like Christmas too, so it may come as something of a surprise
to you to learn that there have been those in the past who haven’t liked
Christmas. The Puritans, for example,
tried to have it banned.
In
my previous parish, in the north-east of Scotland, where the Presbyterian
Church had been very influential in the past, many could remember when
Christmas wasn’t really celebrated that much, the main celebration was Hogmanay
(that is, New Year). My Church Warden
recalled how when she first moved to the parish the plumber who was doing work
for her turned up on Christmas Day.
Today,
I am happy to say that while there are those who disapprove of Christmas, or,
at least aspects of it, most people love it.
Christmas is ubiquitous: it’s everywhere. In London, it seems to start in August. Winnie and I normally see it beginning to be
promoted just as we are leaving after our Summer trip to the UK. In Hong Kong, it starts a bit later: it seems
to really get under way after Halloween – for obvious commercial reasons!
At
the Vicarage, the Christmas season normally begins in the first week of
December with the delivery of our Christmas tree! Yes, everyone loves Christmas, but even
someone who loves Christmas as much as I do has to admit that some of the
customs and practices surrounding Christmas seem just a little bit removed from
the birth of Christ.
Christmas
Trees had been around in northern Europe for quite some time, but they really
took off in the UK when Prince Albert put one up in 1841 at Windsor Castle. It’s hard now to imagine Christmas without
one.
Mince
Pies were first introduced to Europe by the Crusaders, who had experienced
middle eastern flavours while in the Holy Land.
Originally containing meat, they were made from 13 ingredients
representing Christ and the twelve apostles.
They were also oval shaped to symbolize the manger.
Poinsettias
came from Mexico in the 16th century as did the turkey. Eating turkey at Christmas is one of those
strange customs. We all eat it even if
we don’t particularly like it. Heston Blumenthal,
as you might expect, has all sorts of complicated procedures for making it
taste good. There is, however, a very
funny video on youtube in which an older cook, Mary Risley, gives her own advice
on cooking turkey. She says: ‘just put
the ******* turkey in the oven!’
Christingles
are a more recent custom originating in Moravia in the nineteenth century. They were made popular by John Pensom, a Children’s
Society fundraiser, in 1968. He used to
sign himself John Pensom DGO. It turns
out DGO stood for Damned Good Organiser.
He certainly succeeded in making the Christingle popular, and we will
have our own Christingle Service here at Christ Church on Christmas Eve.
Not
everyone understands it though. On a
parents’ forum in the UK, Mumsnet, one Mum, whose daughter had come home with
the Christingle saying it was to celebrate Christmas, asked, ‘What on earth has
an orange with a candle and four cocktail sticks to do with Christmas?’
Come
to our Christmas Eve Service if you too are puzzled! All will be revealed.
Well,
I could go on. But these and many other
traditions have passed their way into our celebration of Christmas and of our
Lord’s birth. They may at times seem
strange, but, ultimately, they are harmless.
After all, Christmas is meant to be a Birthday Party and strange things
happen at parties!
So
big is Christmas today that it comes as something of a shock to discover that
the Church for a couple of hundreds of years or so didn’t seem to take it too
seriously. The first real mention of it
we get is in Rome in the mid-4th century. The big thing for the Early Church was
Easter.
Imagine,
for one moment, that you only had St Mark’s Gospel. (And remember that originally the Gospels
circulated independently of one another.)
You would know nothing of the Nativity of our Lord. And the Gospels were written after St Paul’s
letters. St Paul in his letters makes no
mention of the circumstances of our Lord’s birth except to say, in Galatians,
that he was born of a woman, which is hardly news. It’s the same with St John’s Gospel. St John is more concerned with our Lord’s divine
origin than he is with the details of his human origin.
It
is only St Matthew and St Luke who tell us, in relatively few words, the
circumstances of Jesus’ birth, and despite having these concise and to the
point accounts, we still manage to get the details wrong:
For
example:
In
none of our readings this evening are we told that Jesus was born in a stable.
We
don’t know how many wise men there were or even if they were wise. The word is ‘magi: a sort of first century
cross between an astronomer and astrologer.
We
do know that they came to the ‘house’ where the holy family were staying, but as
Herod had all the boys under 2 killed, Jesus probably wasn’t lying in the
manger when they arrived.
We
are told that angels appeared to the shepherds, but they don’t sing.
Oh,
and before I spoil it all: there is no mention of a donkey little or otherwise.
I
genuinely don’t say any of this to spoil Christmas, and I am happy to go along
with all of the above in the spirit in which they are offered. I only say it to make the point that what we
want is a ‘particular version’ of Christmas.
This
is nothing new and has always been the case.
Many of our traditions, as I have suggested, come from Victorian England. The Victorians knew what they wanted at
Christmas and, indeed, throughout the year for that matter: children who kept quiet.
(The Victorians didn’t always get it wrong!)
Take,
for example, the popular carol, ‘Away in a Manger’. It contains the words:
‘the
cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,
but
little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.’
Really?
Or
what about these words from Once in Royal David’s City, the carol with which we
began tonight’s service?
‘And
through all his wondrous childhood
he
would honour and obey,
love
and watch the lowly maiden,
in
whose gentle arms he lay:
Christian
children all must be
mild,
obedient, good as he.’
That’s
verse 3. Verse 4 continues:
‘For
He is our childhood’s pattern…’
It
is less about Jesus and more about what the Victorians wanted out of their own
children!
Classic
FM in the UK at the moment is conducting, as it does each year, a poll to find
the most popular carol. For the past two
years, it has been Silent Night. It is
the perfect carol: romantic, emotional,
and devoid of any content. It is also
just plain wrong:
‘Silent
night, holy night,
all
is calm, all is bright,
round
yon virgin mother and child …’
I
don’t want to get all feminist on you, but could I just ask the mothers here:
how was your experience of childbirth? Silent,
calm, and bright? And far from being
silent, calm, and bright, Bethlehem would have been crowded and noisy because
of the census with frayed nerves and bad tempers.
Enough
already! You may have seen in the media
this week that the Oxford Dictionaries Word of the Year is ‘post-truth’. Post-truth means something is not true, but
we want to believe in it anyway. Many of
us are having a ‘post-truth’ Christmas.
Deep down we know that so much that we do at Christmas is not true and
not part of the first Nativity, but we would like to think that it is.
The
real truth, however, is that the truth is better. St John may not tell us about the details of
Jesus’ birth, but does tell us what it means: ‘the word became flesh and dwelt
among us’. God, in other words, became one of us. Really truly one of us. This means that:
Mary
would have felt the shame of getting pregnant
Joseph
would have been disturbed, disapproving, and embarrassed
Mary
would have screamed in pain when she gave birth to Jesus
Jesus
would have cried
and
he would have needed the first equivalent of having his nappy/diaper changing
It
was noisy, dirty, tiring, and challenging.
It was happy and sad at the same time.
Just like life is today.
Jesus
was given two names by the angel: ‘Jesus’, which means the Lord saves and ‘Emmanuel’,
which means God is with us. The reason
why Christmas is so special is that Jesus does save us, but he saves us because
he is God with us, but even more than that he is God as one of us. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a
post-truth version of Christmas as long as you don’t mistake it for the true
Christmas. The true Christmas is about
the word becoming flesh and dwelling among us; it is about the light shining in
the darkness.
But
it doesn’t end there. We haven’t
celebrated Christmas unless we personally – you and I – have responded to the
message of Christmas. St John writes of
Jesus that to all who receive him, who believe in his name, he gives power to
become children of God.
This
Christmas are we just spectators at the Nativity or are we also participants?
One
of the most post-truth carols is, ‘In the bleak mid-winter …’
One
of the best carols is, ‘In the bleak mid-winter …’
Christina
Rossetti got it. It doesn’t matter so
much how you celebrate Christmas, it matters how you respond to Christmas:
What
can I give Him,
poor
as I am?
If
I were a shepherd,
I
would bring a lamb;
if
I were a wise man,
I
would do my part;
yet
what I can, I give Him –
give
my heart.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Let the Fun Begin ...
Well tomorrow is the first of many Christmas and Carol Services for me. The Christmas trees are in place and the decorations are all up - and I love it!
I think the Christmas tree here at the Vicarage is the best we have had, so all credit to 'Sophie's Christmas Trees' who I bought it from!
I know that there are many Christians who are ambivalent about Christmas, and I am sure we are right to want to present the Christmas message over the next couple of weeks. We do have to remember, though, that it was us Christians who decided to celebrate our Lord's birth at the time of a pagan festival, so we can't really complain that people just want a good time.
Maybe, while people are relaxed and having a good time, we can invite them to think about what can give long term joy as opposed to short term happiness. I hope so.
I continue to work on the Christmas Eve sermon. I am focusing at the moment on this phrase from John 1:
'The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.'
I am not sure I have ever known what it means. Having spent today with the commentaries, I am even less sure. All suggestions gratefully received! Oh, and please don't tell me that it means that Jesus' coming means we will all live happily ever after. I, for one, am sure that is NOT what it means!
I hope all your own preparations for the Nativity of our Lord are going well.
Well tomorrow is the first of many Christmas and Carol Services for me. The Christmas trees are in place and the decorations are all up - and I love it!
I think the Christmas tree here at the Vicarage is the best we have had, so all credit to 'Sophie's Christmas Trees' who I bought it from!
I know that there are many Christians who are ambivalent about Christmas, and I am sure we are right to want to present the Christmas message over the next couple of weeks. We do have to remember, though, that it was us Christians who decided to celebrate our Lord's birth at the time of a pagan festival, so we can't really complain that people just want a good time.
Maybe, while people are relaxed and having a good time, we can invite them to think about what can give long term joy as opposed to short term happiness. I hope so.
I continue to work on the Christmas Eve sermon. I am focusing at the moment on this phrase from John 1:
'The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.'
I am not sure I have ever known what it means. Having spent today with the commentaries, I am even less sure. All suggestions gratefully received! Oh, and please don't tell me that it means that Jesus' coming means we will all live happily ever after. I, for one, am sure that is NOT what it means!
I hope all your own preparations for the Nativity of our Lord are going well.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Christmas is Coming
It's official we are now in the run up to Christmas! As I suspect many of you did in your churches yesterday, we lit the first of our Advent Candles on the Advent Wreath, I have begun writing Christmas cards, and the Christmas tree arrives on Thursday. Readers of this blog will know that I love Christmas and I am really looking forward to it this year with all that goes with it - even the mince pies! (For my previous comments on Christmas, see under the label Christmas.)
I don't know what your favourite moment at Christmas is. For me, it has to be the Midnight Eucharist on Christmas Eve. But herein lies a paradox. I have preached at this service for quite a few years now both here and, previously, in Scotland, but I have never been happy with my sermon. I don't just mean in the 'we can always do better' sense, rather I am always left feeling that I just didn't quite get there. The sheer wonder of the occasion seems to demand so much more than certainly I have been able to achieve.
Part of the problem - only part of the problem, mind you - is that by Christmas Eve, I always feel completely drained. Like having a Ferrari with no petrol in it. No matter how hard you put your foot on the accelerator nothing is going to happen. Another part of the problem is simply finding the words to describe the Word, the Word that did not stay a Word, but became flesh and dwelt amongst us.
This year I am going to go back to basics and work through the Christmas Gospel, that is, St John's Prologue to his Gospel in chapter 1 which tells of the Word becoming flesh. I have read it so many times and preached on it often, but have never really felt that I have got to the heart of what St John is saying. So to begin with, I am going to try reading and understanding the Prologue again.
Anyway, the sermon preparation for Christmas Eve begins in earnest now.
It's official we are now in the run up to Christmas! As I suspect many of you did in your churches yesterday, we lit the first of our Advent Candles on the Advent Wreath, I have begun writing Christmas cards, and the Christmas tree arrives on Thursday. Readers of this blog will know that I love Christmas and I am really looking forward to it this year with all that goes with it - even the mince pies! (For my previous comments on Christmas, see under the label Christmas.)
I don't know what your favourite moment at Christmas is. For me, it has to be the Midnight Eucharist on Christmas Eve. But herein lies a paradox. I have preached at this service for quite a few years now both here and, previously, in Scotland, but I have never been happy with my sermon. I don't just mean in the 'we can always do better' sense, rather I am always left feeling that I just didn't quite get there. The sheer wonder of the occasion seems to demand so much more than certainly I have been able to achieve.
Part of the problem - only part of the problem, mind you - is that by Christmas Eve, I always feel completely drained. Like having a Ferrari with no petrol in it. No matter how hard you put your foot on the accelerator nothing is going to happen. Another part of the problem is simply finding the words to describe the Word, the Word that did not stay a Word, but became flesh and dwelt amongst us.
This year I am going to go back to basics and work through the Christmas Gospel, that is, St John's Prologue to his Gospel in chapter 1 which tells of the Word becoming flesh. I have read it so many times and preached on it often, but have never really felt that I have got to the heart of what St John is saying. So to begin with, I am going to try reading and understanding the Prologue again.
Anyway, the sermon preparation for Christmas Eve begins in earnest now.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Happy New Year!
Everything is getting back to normal here now with the start of term for all our schools. For those of you returning to work today after the festive break, I hope it doesn't come as too much of a shock!
The Birth of Jesus
I am preparing for this coming Sunday's sermon and can't believe we are on to the baptism of Christ already. I think it is a real shame that liturgically we move on so quickly from what happened after Jesus was born to his ministry. We know about the shepherds AND their sheep (let the reader understand!) We also think we know about the Magi and their gifts. We often, however, miss the fact that Jesus was circumcised 8 days after his birth (Luke 2:21) and that Mary and Joseph went to the temple in Jerusalem (not too far away) 33 days after his birth 'according to the Law of Moses' (Levticus 12, Luke 2:22) taking Jesus with them. And, of course, the fact that Herod has all children under two years old murdered 'according to the time that he had learned from the wise men' (Matthew 2:16), suggests we do not know the diary of events as well as sometimes we think.
The chances are that Mary and Joseph stayed on in Bethlehem for some considerable time after Jesus' birth. This means that, contrary to most nativity scenes, the shepherds and Magi are unlikely ever to have met! It also suggests that Mary and Joseph were able to secure accommodation in Bethlehem. Surely they did not live in a stable until the time of Mary's purification a month after Jesus' birth? Matthew tells us that the star led the Magi to the 'place where the child was' (Matthew 2:9). He continues describing them 'entering the house' (Matthew 2:11). Romantic though it undoubtedly is to have the Magi in the stable, there is no basis for it in the text.
This raises the question of where Mary and Joseph would have stayed. Here I confess to a failure of nerve. I have long felt that the story of Jesus even being born in a stable is just plain wrong. I don't believe it is what the Gospels ever say. I remember lecturing on this over twenty years ago, but have refrained from preaching on it for not wanting to spoil people's Christmas and, in any case, I don't think it is an essential issue when it comes to explaining the meaning of Christmas.
The point, however, is that Mary and Joseph went to their 'own town' (Luke 2:3) to be registered. Wouldn't it be just a little strange if they knew no-one in the city? And did they get so little warning of their journey that they were unable to plan ahead? The typical nativity play has Mary and Joseph turning up in Bethlehem on the night of Jesus' birth looking for a place to stay. It works in the nativity play, but in real life?
Look again at what St Luke actually says: 'He (Joseph) went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.' (Luke 2:5-6) 'While they were there', notice! Not, 'on the night they arrived'. The Greek word, often translated 'inn', is better translated simply 'guest room'. Families in Bethlehem would have lived in small houses and the animals would have been kept in the house at night with a manger built in to feed them!
What St Luke is telling us is that Mary and Joseph went to Bethlehem some time ahead of the due date for the birth of their baby, stayed in a house that was crowded, and that when the time came for the baby to be born - because the house was full - Mary gave birth to her son in the main part of the house and not in a special room. The shepherds then visit having been told that the fact that the baby is in a manger will be a 'sign to them' (Luke 2:12) Why should the baby being in manger be a sign? It is a sign because God chose a humble and ordinary place for his Son to be born, not a palace. The shepherds could go there with confidence: they could be sure they would be allowed in!
There would, then, be no difficulty for the Holy Family to stay on in Bethlehem for quite some time as they had already found friendly accommodation. Sadly, some time in the next two years, after the visit of mysterious strangers, they had to flea for their lives as political refugees to Egypt. Interestingly, after Herod's death and the coast becomes clear for Mary and Joseph together with their child to return to Israel, they evidently first thought to go back to Bethlehem (Matthew 2:22). However, Joseph is worried about the person now ruling over Judea and so goes to Nazareth in Galilee instead (Matthew 2:23, Luke 2:39).
The Gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus are by nature somewhat fragmentary and we are left to piece them together in order to get a fuller picture. Inevitably, we need some imagination to do this and there is much that we do not know, which, if we were to know, would change the picture. The least we can do, however, is to make sure we listen carefully to what we are told before making our re-constructions.
The traditional account of the Nativity conveys the message of Christmas and is not to be despised. Nevertheless, I wonder what reflection on what the Gospels actually say would produce by way of plays and preaching!
Everything is getting back to normal here now with the start of term for all our schools. For those of you returning to work today after the festive break, I hope it doesn't come as too much of a shock!
The Birth of Jesus
I am preparing for this coming Sunday's sermon and can't believe we are on to the baptism of Christ already. I think it is a real shame that liturgically we move on so quickly from what happened after Jesus was born to his ministry. We know about the shepherds AND their sheep (let the reader understand!) We also think we know about the Magi and their gifts. We often, however, miss the fact that Jesus was circumcised 8 days after his birth (Luke 2:21) and that Mary and Joseph went to the temple in Jerusalem (not too far away) 33 days after his birth 'according to the Law of Moses' (Levticus 12, Luke 2:22) taking Jesus with them. And, of course, the fact that Herod has all children under two years old murdered 'according to the time that he had learned from the wise men' (Matthew 2:16), suggests we do not know the diary of events as well as sometimes we think.
The chances are that Mary and Joseph stayed on in Bethlehem for some considerable time after Jesus' birth. This means that, contrary to most nativity scenes, the shepherds and Magi are unlikely ever to have met! It also suggests that Mary and Joseph were able to secure accommodation in Bethlehem. Surely they did not live in a stable until the time of Mary's purification a month after Jesus' birth? Matthew tells us that the star led the Magi to the 'place where the child was' (Matthew 2:9). He continues describing them 'entering the house' (Matthew 2:11). Romantic though it undoubtedly is to have the Magi in the stable, there is no basis for it in the text.
This raises the question of where Mary and Joseph would have stayed. Here I confess to a failure of nerve. I have long felt that the story of Jesus even being born in a stable is just plain wrong. I don't believe it is what the Gospels ever say. I remember lecturing on this over twenty years ago, but have refrained from preaching on it for not wanting to spoil people's Christmas and, in any case, I don't think it is an essential issue when it comes to explaining the meaning of Christmas.
The point, however, is that Mary and Joseph went to their 'own town' (Luke 2:3) to be registered. Wouldn't it be just a little strange if they knew no-one in the city? And did they get so little warning of their journey that they were unable to plan ahead? The typical nativity play has Mary and Joseph turning up in Bethlehem on the night of Jesus' birth looking for a place to stay. It works in the nativity play, but in real life?
Look again at what St Luke actually says: 'He (Joseph) went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.' (Luke 2:5-6) 'While they were there', notice! Not, 'on the night they arrived'. The Greek word, often translated 'inn', is better translated simply 'guest room'. Families in Bethlehem would have lived in small houses and the animals would have been kept in the house at night with a manger built in to feed them!
What St Luke is telling us is that Mary and Joseph went to Bethlehem some time ahead of the due date for the birth of their baby, stayed in a house that was crowded, and that when the time came for the baby to be born - because the house was full - Mary gave birth to her son in the main part of the house and not in a special room. The shepherds then visit having been told that the fact that the baby is in a manger will be a 'sign to them' (Luke 2:12) Why should the baby being in manger be a sign? It is a sign because God chose a humble and ordinary place for his Son to be born, not a palace. The shepherds could go there with confidence: they could be sure they would be allowed in!
There would, then, be no difficulty for the Holy Family to stay on in Bethlehem for quite some time as they had already found friendly accommodation. Sadly, some time in the next two years, after the visit of mysterious strangers, they had to flea for their lives as political refugees to Egypt. Interestingly, after Herod's death and the coast becomes clear for Mary and Joseph together with their child to return to Israel, they evidently first thought to go back to Bethlehem (Matthew 2:22). However, Joseph is worried about the person now ruling over Judea and so goes to Nazareth in Galilee instead (Matthew 2:23, Luke 2:39).
The Gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus are by nature somewhat fragmentary and we are left to piece them together in order to get a fuller picture. Inevitably, we need some imagination to do this and there is much that we do not know, which, if we were to know, would change the picture. The least we can do, however, is to make sure we listen carefully to what we are told before making our re-constructions.
The traditional account of the Nativity conveys the message of Christmas and is not to be despised. Nevertheless, I wonder what reflection on what the Gospels actually say would produce by way of plays and preaching!
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Happy Christmas Everyone!
Thank you for continuing to visit my blog even though it can a bit erratic!
I have to confess to feeling a bit drained at the moment. Just as the Christmas services finished yesterday, we had, today, a large wedding and then I am out tonight. Of course, tomorrow it's Sunday with services as usual. Strictly speaking, we do not normally conduct weddings on Boxing Day, but it is not easy to refuse an earnest request, is it? And then Monday is back to normal. Batteries are running a bit low, I am afraid.
Thank you for continuing to visit my blog even though it can a bit erratic!
I have to confess to feeling a bit drained at the moment. Just as the Christmas services finished yesterday, we had, today, a large wedding and then I am out tonight. Of course, tomorrow it's Sunday with services as usual. Strictly speaking, we do not normally conduct weddings on Boxing Day, but it is not easy to refuse an earnest request, is it? And then Monday is back to normal. Batteries are running a bit low, I am afraid.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
I truly am very sorry not to have been able to continue posting last week. I am trying to get all the building work here at Christ Church finished for Christmas. It's a long story, but we are nearly there. The trouble is that to bring it to completion involves dealing with 5 different contractors and getting them to co-ordinate their work is no easy business. And today all the School services for Christmas have started. Great fun!
On a positive note, the Church was very full last Sunday. This is not traditionally a busy Sunday so it's quite encouraging with Christmas coming up. This week, in common with many churches, we will be having our Sunday School Nativity in the morning and our Carols by Candlelight Service in the evening. I know it is not all about numbers, but you can't get your message out if there's no-one there to hear it.
I have always thought that Christmas was our best time of year for reaching out to people. I was more than a little surprised then to read of a British Bishop criticizing the words in traditional carols. Now he may be right (I am not sure he is, but that's another matter), but it is truly appalling timing. I can't imagine Marks and Spencer announcing that some of its Christmas range is rubbish in the middle of the Christmas shopping season. Doubtless, M&S will review their range and performance in the New Year. Maybe that would have been a better time for the Bishop to invite comments on what for many people is an essential part of Christmas.
I always try to use only those carols that I feel convey the Gospel message, but at the same time surely a bit of poetic licence is allowed. In the bleak mid-winter by Christina Rossetti, for example, is clearly inaccurate when it comes to the meteorological details of the Nativity, but right on when it comes to what Christmas is or should be all about:
What can I give him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him -
Give my heart.
I hope that neither Bishops nor busyness are spoiling the Christmas season for you!
On a positive note, the Church was very full last Sunday. This is not traditionally a busy Sunday so it's quite encouraging with Christmas coming up. This week, in common with many churches, we will be having our Sunday School Nativity in the morning and our Carols by Candlelight Service in the evening. I know it is not all about numbers, but you can't get your message out if there's no-one there to hear it.
I have always thought that Christmas was our best time of year for reaching out to people. I was more than a little surprised then to read of a British Bishop criticizing the words in traditional carols. Now he may be right (I am not sure he is, but that's another matter), but it is truly appalling timing. I can't imagine Marks and Spencer announcing that some of its Christmas range is rubbish in the middle of the Christmas shopping season. Doubtless, M&S will review their range and performance in the New Year. Maybe that would have been a better time for the Bishop to invite comments on what for many people is an essential part of Christmas.
I always try to use only those carols that I feel convey the Gospel message, but at the same time surely a bit of poetic licence is allowed. In the bleak mid-winter by Christina Rossetti, for example, is clearly inaccurate when it comes to the meteorological details of the Nativity, but right on when it comes to what Christmas is or should be all about:
What can I give him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him -
Give my heart.
I hope that neither Bishops nor busyness are spoiling the Christmas season for you!
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Campaign for Real Christmas Cards
Advent Sunday is the time when I start thinking about Christmas cards. Anyone who has been reading this blog for a few years will know that while I love hearing from people by email, when it comes to Christmas cards, I really don't like virtual ones. I really enjoy displaying Christmas cards around the house over the Christmas period. I am now eagerly anticipating the arrival of the first Christmas card. Who will it be from I wonder?
Advent Sunday is the time when I start thinking about Christmas cards. Anyone who has been reading this blog for a few years will know that while I love hearing from people by email, when it comes to Christmas cards, I really don't like virtual ones. I really enjoy displaying Christmas cards around the house over the Christmas period. I am now eagerly anticipating the arrival of the first Christmas card. Who will it be from I wonder?
Monday, January 05, 2009
Christmas Sermons
It is my intention to write up my sermons from over Christmas and put them here on this blog. This is going to take a little time! I type slowly, and while I write out my sermons, they are just that: handwritten and in need of polish, if anyone is to be able to read them.
However, we do record our sermons at Christ Church, and so I am going to post the links to them for those of you keen enough to listen! The written variety will follow.
The first was preached on the Fourth Sunday of Advent at the Carol Service. This is the link:
Happy New Year
I hope that Christmas was good for you, although, strictly speaking, it is not over until tomorrow! I still like the idea of the 12 days of Christmas. Sources on the Internet, however, don't seem to be able to agree on which are the twelve days. Some see today as the twelfth day; others tomorrow.
The Oxford English Dictionary makes tonight twelfth night and tomorrow the twelfth day. In liturgical terms, of course, the day begins the evening before - if you see what I mean. Rather like the Jewish sabbath, which begins on the Friday evening and ends on the Saturday evening! If you count, however, from December 25, you will see that this gives 13 days. The explanation being that the twelve days of Christmas are the days following Christmas Day itself!
So enjoy what is left of Christmas while you can before it is over for another year!
This year marks the 5ooth anniversary of Calvin's birth. I expect to be blogging about Calvin during the year so I won't say too much more now. Calvin inspires strong emotions both for and against. People are quick to take sides, less quick to bother to read what Calvin actually says. Princeton Theological Seminary has come up with a brilliant idea for 2009 and that is to read through the Institutes, Calvin's greatest work, over the course of the year. Through their website, they give a daily reading with resources to support it.
Highly recommended!
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