Episcopal Church of the
Incarnation
The First Sunday of Christmas (A)
Isaiah
61.10-62.3 Psalm
147.13-21 Galatians 3.23-25; 4.4-7 John 1.1-18
May the Lord be in my mind, on my lips, and in my heart, that
I may rightly and truly proclaim His holy Word. Amen.
“No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the
Father’s heart, who has made him known.”
The one eternal, all-powerful God,
the Creator of heaven and earth, not only created but creates. At every moment the universe is created anew,
vivified by His power and His love, expressed in His holy Word; His Word (Logos
in Greek) by which is meant His creative power.
And this very same Logos is what–is who–became flesh and dwelt
among us. God became one of us that He
might call us into greater union with Him; not only that we might know Him
better but–in the words of today’s Collect–that His light “may shine forth in
our lives”.
Think about that for a minute. The next time you are tempted to wonder
whether life has a purpose, remember that it is each one of us,
it is you, who are called to participate in God’s work in this world. You are called to work with God, that His light may shine forth in this world through
your life. God is personal because He
works through people; He works through each one of us, and that is why
How has Jesus, the Son, made God
known to us? Consider for a moment the
word “consolation”. This word is
virtually identical to its Latin root, con solatio, “to be alone with,”
“to share in aloneness”. God consoles us
because He shares with us the terrible human isolation of suffering. He shares with us the feeling of being cut-off
from all in our suffering, for He too has felt this. Jesus reveals the eternal, all-powerful,
creator God to us in the face of the One who suffers on the cross.
Take a look at a crucifix. A crucifix is the image of One in agony, of
One dying for us, the One of whom
Consider the last words of Jesus on
the cross, as recorded by Mark and Matthew:
Eloi, eloi, lama sabachthani, “My God, my
God, why have you forsaken me?” These
may strike us as words of despair, as words of one without hope, and yet they
are the beginning words of Psalm 22, in which all that happens at the
crucifixion is recited, recited in a psalm written hundreds of years before the
fact. The psalm begins with this despairing
cry, but ends how? It ends by reciting
God’s greatness. And what is this
greatness? That God does not despise the
poor or hide His face from them; that He hears those who cry to Him; that His
kingship extends over all the earth; that those who confess Him are the Lord’s own people who shall proclaim
His saving deeds. Far from being words
of despair on the cross, Jesus’ words are the recitation of the greatness of
God.
Or are they? Are not these words, “My God, my God, why
have you forsaken me?” not also the words of one feeling abandonment? They are, and there’s the paradox: the God who saves, the God who recites His
saving power, is also the God who bears the pain of the one who suffers. Jesus as one of us, as the One who has become
flesh, feels pain, but lifts this pain up to His own Godhead knowing that
redemption lies there. God cannot
suffer, but He can suffer with, He does suffer with us, each of us, and
redeems us in this suffering.
That’s the paradox that’s so hard to
get, even for the disciples to get, as in John 14, when Philip says to Jesus,
“[S]how us the Father, and we shall be satisfied.” What does Jesus say in reply? “He who has seen me has seen the Father.” We who see Jesus on the cross see God; we see
that God bears the suffering of the world, He suffers
with us even though He is beyond all suffering.
Our burdens does He bear when we but offer them to Him, and it is in
this offering of our own lives that God’s light, the light incarnated in Jesus,
shines forth.
When we bear one another’s burdens,
God’s light shines forth in the darkness of these burdens. When we extend the arm
which consoles–when we share in the aloneness, the solatio, of another’s
loss–God’s light shines forth.
When we offer of ourselves in service, God’s light shines forth. When our hearts listen and our voices
console, it is God who shines forth, and each time we have compassion for any
in need we share in the one Passion by which we are all saved, that “God so
loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believes in
Him should not perish but have life eternal.”
Com-passion,
sharing in passion, sharing in suffering. We have seen God as the One who suffers with
us, and in this season of Christmas, as we celebrate that the Word has become
flesh and dwelt among us, let us each live in hope and in thanksgiving. Hope because God is with us. Thanksgiving because God
comforts and redeems us. Let us
celebrate this incarnation of the Word, the Logos, that was with God and
is God, by allowing His light to shine forth in this darkness through our own
lives; in how we are His arms which reach out from the cross to envelop those
in need in love; the love that suffers with, the love that gives of
itself.
In the Name
of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Ghost.
Amen.