December 27, 1998
John the Gospel writer clearly intends to be reminiscent of the creation story when he begins the telling of the story of Jesus the Messiah. In the beginning of John's gospel, he makes it clear that the word that was spoken in the beginning of creation, the word that God used to create the universe and all that is in it, is the same word that is now spoken in Jesus Christ. He goes on in this prologue to his gospel to point out the terrible irony. In the beginning, when God spoke, things happened. When God said, "Let there be light, there was light!" When God said that the earth would bring forth a bounty, it brought forth a myriad of green plants and a host of all kinds of animals. It finally brought forth mankind, ourselves.
But now, when the word speaks, John tells us, it is not heard. When God comes to dwell among us and speaks to us, it is not heard. God himself is not received. Not just back then in ancient Israel, but also in our own modern world and in our own modern religious community, the Church. But, he says, where the word is heard, where God the Son is received, the word of God thunders and reverberates and changes lives and presents us with glory and grace which become ours. People respond when we truly hear the word of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.
That, too, is true not just in ancient Israel with the 12 apostles and crowds which followed him and the women who ministered to him. It was not just true on the Mount of Transfiguration, or that home in Bethany. It was not just true at Pentecost, when people heard the word of God being spoken through the apostles. But it is also true in our own lives and in our own churches when we open our ears and our hearts to hear the word of God, to receive him into us, to see his face in the faces of other Christians around us.
What John is saying to us today is that because of Jesus there is now a fundamental change in the relationship between God and his people. The relationship, as Paul goes on to tell us later, is no longer the relationship between creator and created; it is no longer the relationship between owner and slave; it is now the relationship between father and son, between parent and child. Paul says we are no longer slaves but now we are heirs. Heirs in Christ and fellow heirs in the Kingdom of God. We don't earn anything; we inherit it. What we live on in our spiritual lives was earned by Christ on the cross. We inherit it in our baptisms and so now we stand here as co-creators, once again restored to the place we had in the garden. But there is a caution that goes with it. The caution is that while we are indeed the lord of creation, we must also remember that we are servants ourselves of the Creator. It is a duality with which we have struggled since the beginning of time. From the time that Adam and Eve first grasped for moral knowledge by eating of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, so we have struggled with our responsibility for creation and our calling to explore it. We have struggled between our building, our manipulating and our using the raw materials of the earth to create something of beauty and worth in this world. We struggle between that and caring for that very creation — caring for the very environment that God has given us. As we do so, as we probe the tiniest of molecules, as we probe, for instance, a strand of DNA, we also engage in the decision making. We engage in the moral act of knowing what it is God would have us to know and doing what it is he would have us to do with it.
In the mystery that is emerging from our abilities given to us by God, we are also beginning to recognize more and more our dependence upon God's guidance, our servanthood of the raw materials, and the people that he has given us. Now that Christ, the divine nature, has entered human flesh, we have more responsibility, not less. Because God dwells among us we have more responsibility for nature, for this planet and for ourselves, not less. We are confronted with the decisions to build up or to tear down. The good news is that greater responsibility is possible. It is possible because the Son of God gives a higher quality to all human relationships with God. The transcendant God has come amongst us and is reachable and close — can be turned to and can be held to, can be our guide and our for bearer.
God does not issue orders and then sit back and take the names of those who disobey. He does not create the things of the earth and then sit back and write down the names of people who abuse the things of the earth. He does not give us each other and then sit back and hold grudges because we are not kind to one another. What God does is to start the work; he has so much fun at it that he invites us to join him. One of the images that I have found heart-warming about God is one in which he is kneeling down on the riverbank, taking the clay of the river bank and forming things, making things out of it — pots and vases and figurines, having a grand time, seeing people come over and saying to them, "Come on over, this is fun, get down in the mud with me and make something. Share with me in this great joy." This is the kind of God we have. He wants to share with us and gives us that ability, that creativity to see in a piece of stone the statue of David; to see in clay, pigments that can be used in paints; to see in a gnarly old piece of wood a carving that can decorate a home. God gives us that creativity and bids us to join with him and to be responsible in doing so. We can rejoice in the things that we have created, not because we have done such a magnificent job, but because God is with us.
The message of John the gospel writer is that the same God who spoke the creative word, also speaks the redeeming word. The same God who said "let there be light," is also the same God who says to us "come unto me all ye that travail and are heavy laden and I will give you rest." The same God who walked in the cool of the evening with Adam and Eve and called them over to be in his company, is the same God who stretched out his arms on the hard wood of the cross that all the world might come within the reach of his saving embrace. The God who came down looking for Adam and Eve when they had disobeyed is the same God who at Jacob's well spoke to the Samaritan woman and bid her into a new relationship with God. It is the same God who speaks to us, who wants to be our Lord, and who will empower us to do his will.
With the good news of the season of the incarnation when we celebrate our Lord's birth, we are reminded that in its beginning God-made-man was very small. In its beginning, God dwelling within us, Christ in us, in our baptisms is very small, but will grow and flourish to adulthood. All we have to do is nourish and nurture and have our ears open and our minds clear. But sometimes we walk around in a fog — just like they did then, so we do now. Sometimes it is like walking around in a crowd with your glasses off (for those of you who have to do so, we can't quite see things so clearly.) It is time for a new prescription. It is time for clarifying our vision so that we may see Christ at work in the world around us.
At this season of the incarnation, our prayer is that we can see clearly. That we can see in an infant child the God come among us who will grow to manhood, who will die for our sins, who will come again and bring us to himself. So that seeing clearly, we may know that God is with us. In hearing clearly, we may hear the word of God spoken to us. The redeeming, loving, caring word. So that hearing clearly and responding appropriately, we can go forth to do the work of God in the world around us.
AMEN
The Rev. Dr. Robert Certain
rgcertain@stmargarets.org
27 December 1998