Raymond Village Community Church


HOME

WORSHIP

WHAT WE
BELIEVE


PASTOR'S
PAGE


MINISTRIES

CURRENT
EVENTS


PHOTO GALLERY

WEATHERVANE

BOOK BLOG

VISITOR INFO

LINKS



SEARCH


Sermon - January 10, 2010


“Our Christmas Story – One Last Time”

By Rev. Nancy Foran
John 1:1-18
(Originally to be preached on January 3rd, but worship was canceled because of the blizzard!)

The stuffing and cranberry sauce are long gone, and we have only the last bits of turkey now in the refrigerator. Actually, only the dark meat remains, and that will be cut up and put into a turkey pie before the week is out.

The boxes for the decorations are in the living room once more, and perhaps the tree has even been dismantled and now stands propped up against the garage, a haven for chickadees and other small birds trying to stay warm on these long zero degree nights.

The nativity set has been gently wrapped, the broken leg of the sheep carefully placed in a small plastic sandwich bag, so we can glue it properly next December. We have tooted our new year’s horns and watched the glittering symbol of eternal optimism and the best is yet to come drop once again high above Times Square, and our sights are set on 2010 – may it be a better year, a safer year, a richer year, a greener year than the one just ended.

And yet, here in the church, it is still the Christmas season. Though the magi have reached the manger to complete our nativity scene, tradition tells us that even today they still have the last leg of their journey to complete and will not really get to the stable until Wednesday, January 6th. Yet, by next Sunday, the three travelers will have begun their trek home by a different route, and if they were not at the manger this week, we would miss them all together.

Yes, here in the church, it is still Christmas, and so one last time, we gather to tell each other the ancient story of the coming of Jesus into the world. However, our “birth” story this week is unlike the more familiar ones in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.

It is not a story that we can see and touch and wrap our senses around. There are no shepherds on the hillsides to romanticize, no magi with their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh for the great Renaissance artists to paint. Goodness gracious! There is not even a Mary and Joseph. There is only the Word – and the beginning.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God,” writes John to his audience of Greek philosophers who probably would have scoffed at a simple minded story of stables and innkeepers anyway. "What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."

And suddenly the words of the old prophet begin to make sense even to us who enjoy a good story every now and then. "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light." We do not know if old Isaiah had any idea who or what he was talking about, yet we celebrate Christmas as a festival of light. We string up lights on our Christmas tree and illuminate our houses. We place candles in the windows and plug in bulbs on the shrubbery. We burn up the kilowatts because Jesus Christ is born.

And it all begins in the beginning, says John, and in the darkness. As Episcopal priest William Thigpen writes, “This is John's nativity story; it is not with shepherds and angels or a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger. In this nativity story, this Christmas story, John takes us back to the beginning. He echoes the words from the book of Genesis: In the beginning God created; God moved over the chaos and darkness and said, "Let there be light."

In John's gospel, from the very beginning was the Word. The God who moved over the face of the deep, over the darkness, who spoke and said "let there be light," this same God who was from the beginning and spoke that Word, this same God became flesh and blood and dwelt among us. And this light, this light of God, shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."

Made clear in this passage is an astounding connection between us sitting here in Raymond, Maine, today – between us and the very beginnings of creation itself, this amazing link between God the Creator and we the created ones. As clear as day is the fact that we are part of a holy grand plan that spans space and time and all the dimensions, and all its disparate parts are bound together by indefinable (yet sacred all the same) tendrils of love.

In the beginning was the Word – and the Word became flesh – our flesh – and dwelt among us – sharing food and laughter and life and death and light, always light.

In the beginning was the Word, Logos - as it would be in the Greek language in which John wrote his Gospel and from which comes our word, “logic.” “In the beginning was the logic and the logic was with God and the logic was God.”

As Lutheran pastor, Edward Markquart, wrote: “Before there was any creation, before there was matter, before there was light and life…there had to be a set of brains...There had to be some logic to it. God was and is essentially a large cranial cavity of intelligence and brilliance.

In the beginning was the logic and the logic was with God and the logic was God. The mind was God. The intelligence was God. The brilliance was God – and from this logic, all light and life was created.”

And not only that, writes John. Just when you thought that God could do no more, the brilliant mind and logic behind the universe became flesh, a human being.”

As Episcopal priest James Stamper puts it, “Initially there was a pattern for everything. The pattern was God's; God was the pattern. The pattern was always God. Everything came from that pattern. There isn't anything else. The pattern is both the source and the meaning of life. It is a way of being alive in opposition to death, and death cannot overcome it…(And this) pattern for everything that is became a human being and lived among us, and we experienced how awesome that is: the gift of life and all its possibilities.

God became a human being, and lived among us. That is the key for John.” This God of possibilities, this brilliance and logic, this pattern of life chose not to stay up in the safety of heaven. This master intelligence did not live away from the rough and tumble of the world, but rather came down here to this earth for our sake and to teach us about grace, about grace and truth.

“And the Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, generous inside and out, true from start to finish… The Life-Light was the real thing: (And) every person entering Life he brings into Light.” (The Message)

No matter what translation or paraphrase of the Bible you use, the incarnation, this Word becoming flesh business, is amazing, astounding, and its significance is oh so difficult to properly put into words.

It is like the little girl who “was five, sure of the facts, and recited them with slow solemnity, convinced every word was revelation. She said, ‘They were so poor they had only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to eat and they went a long way from home without getting lost. The lady rode a donkey, the man walked, and the baby was inside the lady. They had to stay in a stable with an ox and an ass (hee-hee), but the Three Rich Men found them because a star lighted the roof. Shepherds came and you could pet the sheep but not feed them. Then the baby was borned. And do you know who he was?’ Her quarter eyes inflated to silver dollars. ‘The baby was God.’ And she jumped in the air, whirled around, dove into the sofa and buried her head under the cushion, which is (really) the only proper response to the Good News of the Incarnation." (John Shea)

And so during this season of Christmas in the church – the shortest season in all the church year – only 12 days long – when everything about our lives pulls us forward into the adventure of a new year, we are reminded and in fact called back to our center one more time, to jump in the air like a five year old and whirl around a bit in order to find where our hearts in the end really belong – celebrating the mystery of God becoming flesh and blood while joyfully receiving the coming of Christ among us, the Word made flesh, the Word that gives life and breath and hope to us all. (Thigpen)

As William Thigpen wrote, “the real struggle for the soul of Christmas is allowing Jesus, the "Word made flesh," "God made flesh," to be genuinely enfleshed in us, enfleshed in our hearts and minds and hands, enfleshed in our relationships and in our care for the stranger, for the jobless, for the homeless, for those in any need or trouble, enfleshed in our struggle for justice and peace among all people.”

And after our whirling and dancing is done and we peek out from under the sofa cushion, lo and behold, the light shines in us if we give it half a chance to spark up and burn - and that too is part of the Christmas message.

And the Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood, came into our lives, dwelt among us, full of grace - and the truth of the power of love. And in the Word – in the truth – in the logic - there was life like we have never seen it lived, and that life was the light for all of us. The Light of that life shines in the darkness, in the darkness of our world and of our lives, and the darkness will not – can not - has not -overpowered it.