Sermon manuscript:
The Christmas Day Gospel that we have just heard from John
is different. Luke, in his Gospel, speaks about Jesus’s birth in the way that
we are accustomed. You heard that Gospel read last night. Matthew also, in his
Gospel, gives us history—perhaps more from Joseph’s perspective than from
Mary’s. John is also speaking about real events—just as much as Luke or
Matthew. He is speaking about the eternal Word of God, the second person of the
Trinity, becoming flesh and being born. John the Baptist is the herald who goes
before him, announcing his coming. God tabernacles among us in Jesus, just as
God tabernacled among the Israelites in the tabernacle and, later, the temple.
These are real events, but perhaps you could say that he is dealing with them
using a very wide angle lens.
In fact, his angle is so wide that he even is taking in the
creation of the world. The opening words of his Gospel are so familiar. They
are taken from the beginning of Genesis: “In the beginning God created the
heavens and the earth.” The beginning of John’s Gospel reads, “In the
beginning.”
Furthermore, the very first things that happened in Genesis
are also fleshed out in the Gospel’s opening statement. Genesis says in the
beginning the world was without form and void. Then God spoke. He used words.
He said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. In John’s Gospel it
says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the
Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him everything was
made, and without him not one thing was made that has been made. In him was
life, and the life was the light of mankind. The light was shining in the
darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
With John speaking about Jesus being the light, his wide
angle view takes in the whole sweep and span of created time. The wideness of
his angle extends to this present time as he speaks about the light. Jesus says
later in John, “I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows me will never
walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” In our present time we
are to follow the light.
The light is only on this earth for a set period of time,
however. At the end, during Holy Week, Jesus says to the Jews of Jerusalem: “The
light will be with you just a little while longer. Keep on walking while you
have the light, so that darkness does not overtake you. The one who walks in
the darkness does not know where he is going. While you have the light, believe
in the light, so that you may become sons of light.” Soon the time of grace
would be over for them. In another place Jesus says, “I must do the works of
him who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work.”
Night is coming. An end is coming. Thus you can see that the scope of this
Christmas Gospel is very, very wide. In fact, it couldn’t be wider. It takes in
all of created time. In the beginning was the light. Now is the light.
Eventually the light will go away from this earth, but in the new heavens and
the new earth the light will never go away.
And so here we have a bold claim. When people are trying to
figure out what the meaning of life is, they necessarily try to encapsulate all
of life. They try to take in the widest possible angle so that all the meaning
is captured and nothing is left out. What, then, is the meaning of life? Jesus
Christ, the only begotten Son of the Father. He is life. He is grace. He is
truth. He is light. No one has ever seen God. The only-begotten Son, who is
close to the Father’s side, has made God known. Those who believe in Jesus are
given the right to become children of God. They are born, not of blood, or of
the desire of the flesh, or of a husband’s will, but born of God.
This gives us tons of things that we could talk about. After
all, we’re talking about the meaning of life here. But let’s focus on one of
the things that is especially relevant to what we are commemorating at
Christmas. Christmas is about the birth of God’s Son, begotten of the Father
from eternity, born of the Virgin Mary in time. When a person thinks about the
birth of a God, it is only natural to think of splendor and majesty. God is
extremely glorious. Think only of the signs and wonders that took place at Mt.
Sinai, the mountain where God revealed a little bit of himself to the
Israelites gathered down below. The sights and sounds were so overpowering that
the Israelites thought they were going to die.
But God’s glory is not limited to one mountain. He is the
God of the winds that lash Mt. Everest. He is the God of the depths of the
Mariana trench. He is the God of the blazing sun. He is the God of the crushing
black holes. Whatever you might want to pile together of the power and glory of
created things, God is always going to be greater and then some. I think there
might be some astrophysicists who try to grasp the meaning of life by taking in
the furthest stretches of created glory. Their angle never gets wide enough, though,
for God is always more.
Although God is tremendously glorious, unimaginably
glorious, what we see at Christmas is that he comes in such a gentle, lowly
way. As I mentioned last night, his birth is so lowly that it’s hard to
believe. Why didn’t these people in Bethlehem have some compassion on this
pregnant woman? But God wanted his Son to be born where ox and ass are feeding.
The highest and the most glorious would become the lowest and humblest.
We see this so clearly in so many aspects of Christmas.
Luther reflected on this great mystery with the chief hymn we sang today where
he says, “The virgin Mary’s lullaby Calms the infant Lord Most High, Upon her
lap content is He Who keeps the earth and sky and sea. Alleluia!” A poor little
baby, unable to hold his own head up, totally dependent upon his mother,
nourished from her breasts, is Lord God Almighty.
What does this mean? It is not just a spectacle, an
interesting conjunction of opposites. It is the humility of the Lord God to
serve, to encourage, to uplift the descendants of Adam and Eve. The Lord Jesus
comes so meekly and mildly that absolutely no one should be afraid of him. Even
those who have done horrible, horrible things should not be afraid of Jesus.
There is literally no one too dirty, no one too disgusting, whom Jesus will
refuse to help on that principle.
Only those who do not want to have anything do with him are
left on their own. Jesus says that there are those who love the darkness rather
than the light, because their deeds are evil. “Everyone who practices wicked
things hates the light and does not come toward the light, or else his deeds
would be exposed.” Jesus will drag no one into heaven by their hair. We
wicked creatures have the terrifying ability to say “no thanks” to the Son of
God. Not only do we have this ability, but this is the very thing that comes
naturally to us. This is why it is so necessary that Jesus speak to us through
his word and his sacraments, and that by the power of the Holy Spirit we might
believe it.
The Holy Spirit is necessary because we naturally disbelieve
rather than believe. We naturally take the meaning of life to be all kinds of
things besides the Lord Jesus Christ. Thus we will believe in some other god
that is more to our liking. We love the darkness. But now the light has come.
The light exposes our evil deeds, but not so that we may be swallowed up in
despair, but so that we may be forgiven and healed. The knowledge of God that
the Son brings to light is that he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and
abounding in steadfast love. In our reading this morning John said, “The Law
was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. … Out of
his fullness we have received grace upon grace.” Jesus is grace upon grace.
This is God’s will—God’s good will toward mankind. Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace, good will toward men.
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