A sermon for the First Sunday after Christmas
December 29, 2024, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR
Readings: John 1:1-18
I want to know the whole story. Maybe that’s a reason I’ve always been attracted to a certain kind of literature. I want to know what led a person to a certain event or decision–and not just them, but how did the history of their family, their friend circle, their community lay the groundwork for such a decision. I like true crime TV shows for the same reason. I want to know the backstory because I feel I can understand, at least a little more, what’s behind the story I know.
It’s still Christmas in the Church, and we come in celebration of a story we know well. Mary, Joseph, the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in the manger. There are the shepherds in the fields, the wisemen on the way, the mad king in Jerusalem. We know the story well, even if we’re not particularly pious, and its familiarity is comforting. But there’s more to it.
Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the synoptic gospels, were written soon after the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD. Mark was written first, and there’s no Nativity story. Matthew and Luke write next, and apparently seeing that Mark was missing an important chunk, they fill in the details. It is from Luke that we get Mary’s side with the shepherds. It is from Matthew that we get Joseph’s side with the wisemen and the flight to Egypt.
But the gospel of John, from which we read this morning, is different. Written last, John has a different purpose. More than telling the story, John wants to tell us the theological why. John wants to make sure we connect to the backstory–the all the way backstory.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… And the Word became flesh and lived among us.” This is just as much a Nativity story as we read in Luke and Matthew, but here, there are no shepherds or wisemen or frantic people trying to find a room in the inn. For this Nativity story, John takes us back to the beginning of creation, to the Word spoken by the Father, the Word that brings all things into being, the Word that makes all things very good. This Word, John says, is the second person of the Trinity, Jesus Christ our Lord. This Word, present at creation, is Christ, who comes to make a new creation through his life, death, and resurrection.
Yes, Jesus was a child, a babe in a manger. Yes, Jesus would grow up to be a teacher, a rabbi, who taught about the Kingdom of God and the wisdom of God. Yes, Jesus would die because he got on the wrong side of the political and religious authorities. But there is more to the story. This Jesus, fully human, is also fully divine. This Jesus is the Word of God, sent from the Father, the second person of the Trinity, who has come to save us. And just as the Word once spoke creation into being, so Christ, the Word made flesh, speaks us into a new creation, his very Body, even today.
This Word made flesh has come for you. He has come to speak a new creation into the world, into your very heart. He has come to make us good–even very good. And he does that by becoming like us, by taking on our flesh, so that he might live, die, and rise again for our redemption, all to pull us into the grace and light and love of God Almighty. And it’s enough. What the Word has done is enough. It’s really enough to save us–us and the whole universe.
So what’s the whole story? Sometimes I wonder which stories those true crime shows would tell about me. There are plenty of twists and turns in my story; they would tell of triumphs, but also sorrows and a couple things I’m ashamed of. Maybe that’s true for you, too. But the good news is that our whole stories are not complete until the Word is introduced, until his faithfulness, his love, his life become ours. Like a character introduced in the last episode of a podcast that turns everything on its head, the Word shows up to redeem us, to claim us, to heal us. For no matter where I’ve been, or where you’ve been, the Word, even Jesus Christ our Lord, comes and speaks freedom, and forgiveness, and grace.
Storied Grace 