December 24, 2023, Advent 4
John 1:1-18
Introduction
The book of John is about Jesus. I know, shocker. John is a Gospel, so of course, it’s about Jesus. But remember, John is not like any of the synoptic Gospels. John is different. While all the Gospels are radical—the Messiah is born as a baby, eventually dies but comes back to life; says wild things like ‘love your enemy’, ‘turn the other cheek’, ‘the first will be last/the last will be first’; talks incessantly about grace and forgiveness, etc, etc— John takes Gospel radicalness to a whole other level, saying Jesus is… the Word; Jesus is… the beginning; Jesus was with God; Jesus was God. Jesus was at one time not “become flesh” and had to “become flesh” to live among us. And Jesus’ life revealed glory and love. Think about that. That is an incredibly radical and revolutionary statement coming from a Jewish writer in the first century.
The first chapter of John reveals the greatest plot twist in history. All of salvation history has been building up to this, but nothing in the Old Testament prepared us for the surprise that God would come among us as one of us. And because God does, in Jesus we meet God. The Word became flesh and lived among us. This could not be more unexpected. The great creator God of Judaism becoming a weak human? Madness! The self-contemplating God takes on the frailty and distractions of flesh? Scandalous!
But this is what we celebrate at Christmas! God entered the mess and the glory that it is to be human. To be loved by a mother, to be a helpless baby dependent on her body for his life; to learn to walk, to skin his knees, to learn a trade and work at it, to eat and sleep; to have a heart that can fear, trust, love, and be broken… “to endure all the shocks which flesh is heir to.” By doing so, he shows the unfathomed depth of the love of God for humanity. Rather than sullying divinity, he dignified humanity.
All of it then means… To meet Jesus is to meet God. And to meet God… to meet Jesus… is when love begins. And this love that begins is seen no more explicitly than at Christmas. And most especially on Christmas Eve when we take a moment to do the simple act of lighting a candle.
Move 1
During advent, we get ready for the coming of Jesus. We do what we do so that come this day, Christmas Eve, we have “prepared him room.” We’ve done the Christmas season “stuff”— decorations, cards, cookies, shopping, last minute shopping, complaining about last minute shopping, raging about last minute shopping— but more importantly, we have journeyed through the dim season, and through slow but intentional efforts, have been guided to hope, peace, joy, and now love, all of it blessing us again with the reminder that God came to be with us as us.
The Word became flesh so the love of God our Creator could be known more deeply, more profoundly, more purely. And we create a physical manifestation of this spiritual presence when we do the simple act of lighting a candle that reminds us…at Christmas is when love begins.
Move 2
Now while at Christmas love begins again, and hope, peace, and joy fill the air, (and all of it looks quaint and serene on a Christmas card) there is still another reality often overlooked, ignored, or just forgotten. And that reality is that this season can be difficult, it can be filled with dread, it can suffocate— for a lot of reasons. Loss, grief, fear, loneliness, you know them all. But it can be especially difficult when you’re losing your religion, or when you’ve already lost it.
When our beliefs begin to shift, when doubt creeps in, when those dates on the calendar that used to bring such joy, the ones that once set the steady rhythm of our spiritual journey each year suddenly don’t provide the familiar comfort they used to, then the idea of love beginning is a fallacy.
And when this happens, instead of being more deeply connected than ever to God and to their community of faith, a person in this situation feels more like an orphan, a former insider pushed to the periphery of the party. Because here’s a truth we often forget… Having something that once was such an integral part of you, now leave you oddly estranged, can bring a terrifying existential free fall.
There’s a commonality of experience for the many followers of Jesus who find Christmas a new challenge. Their religious muscle memory tells their hearts they “should” be in a building somewhere singing songs and praying prayers and feeling feelings, but they no longer have the slightest desire to do any of it. There is the pining for spiritual security, but tremendous guilt when that security is elusive. And the number one thing that is easy to forget when someone is struggling with their faith is that God is not struggling with us. God sees the cavernous depths of our hearts, the meandering curves of our road, and has a mercy for us that transcends what we are capable of understanding.
And because of this truth we can be encouraged even when we waver, knowing we are still fully loved. However, hearing, seeing—let alone believing—this truth can be nearly impossible for someone in such a situation. Which is why when someone is in such a situation, they need to be led to the opportunity to see again when love begins.
Move 3
Every Christmas Eve we hold candlelight services here at First Christian Stow. Our 7 p.m. service is a “child friendly” service where kiddos get to sit with me during the scripture readings, help light the Christ candle, sing, go to a junior-junior church during the boring old sermon, but come back for candle lighting and singing silent night. And for those kiddos who aren’t ready for a lit candle we have glow stick candles. 10 p.m. has all the same elements, just without Jr.Jr. Church and glow sticks.
They are beautiful services in sight, sound, and spirit. But every year after the services we are left with the Christmas Eve candles. Some are taken home, but most are returned. And because I am insistent new candles are used each service, each year, we end up with a lot of Christmas Eve candles setting about the church. Some get used during the year, but not many.
So what are do we do with them? Just leave them to pile up in various places and in various receptacles around the church for the next decade? No. We wouldn’t do that. That would be silly? What preacher would allow that to happen?
And so it was in preparing for this sermon, for the fourth Sunday of Advent, which happens to land on Christmas Eve day, that something hit me… a reminder of the reality often overlooked, ignored, or just forgotten. We live in a world where, as I said, many people are losing their religion, struggling with their faith, encumbered at being able to know, God’s hope, peace, joy, and love.
Then, it also hit me… Why do we light candles on Christmas Eve? To remind us, to show us again, that God’s hope, peace, joy, and love have come again; that the Light of the world shines still; that the Word became flesh so we could be assured, no matter what affects us in this world, no matter what we struggle with—we never have to face or endure any of it alone. And we light a simple candle to remind us of this truth. Then we sing a song that reminds us, because of this holy night and its divine gift, everything changes for the better.
But that’s Christmas Eve. And we’re not quite there yet because right now it’s still the fourth Sunday of Advent and there is still some Advent preparations to complete, and among those preparations is being reminded, and reminding others, just exactly what comes at Christmas—that God’s love came into the world, that the Word that was in the beginning, that was with God, that was God, became flesh, and lived among us. And this message…this reminder…this Word… this Light… this radical Good News…this love that begins again, is not just something to remember for a few moments during Christmas Eve, but rather this message…this reminder…this Word… this Light… this radical Good News…this love that begins again…is to be shared…it is to be given away abundantly, joyfully, even recklessly, and most certainly radically.
We must share this message, in these ways, because it is the message that assures a hurting, lost, pushed to the margins people, everything changes, for the better, when love begins.
Conclusion
On this fourth Sunday of Advent—which falls on Christmas Eve day— we all have candles that were once lit on Christmas Eve, symbolizing the Light of the world having again come into the world. The Word made flesh, come to dwell among us. But that light was simply a reminder of the truth that we as followers of Christ, had already received that light, taken it into our hearts, spirits, and are to let it shine through our lives.
And so as our final Advent preparations, this morning we are going to relight these candles while aiming to remember two truths…
One, for many this season is hard, and it is going to remain dim and hopeless, peaceless, joyless, and loveless even after tonight.
And two; we have received, and are to share, the Word, the Light, the Love of God with all, especially those to whom this season is so very dim.
And we are to do this because God presents to us unique opportunities to make an impact on someone and lead them to meet God…to meet Jesus… so that for them—maybe again, or maybe for the first time—they experience, and know deep within their hearts…when love begins.
This day… this night… so long ago…is when love began. May this love begin in us and through us…again. Amen.
Pastoral Prayer, December 24, 2023 (Christmas Eve Morning)
Almighty God, the time of waiting is almost over, which is good because we are not always a patient people. But we stand in awe knowing what the birth of your Son means for our lives, that because of your Son everything changes for the better and your love in this world begins again, yet we are still unable to fully comprehend the depth of your love for us.
So we pray Holy God, forgive us and continue to guide us with your Word, your Light, and your Love, because in this season of anticipation, the voices of our culture compete for our attention, and they can drown out your voice. We busy ourselves with tasks we think we’re supposed to do and neglect the tasks and relationships we ought to do and tend to.
Which is why we need your Word to fill our hearts with your hope, peace, joy and love, so that we, and others, see the grace and mercy you give again and again.
We pray you embolden in us a resolve to follow the lead of Mary who said yes to your call with her whole heart.
We pray you give us the courage of Joseph who had to take an enormous leap of faith.
We pray you inspire us like you did the shepherds, who were first to hear the birth announcement, and then rejoiced and shared its Good News.
We pray you guide us to the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes like the Magi, inviting us to present our lives as gifts, and heeding your warnings to not trust the powers of this world.
Creator God, we are humbled that your Word, that was in the beginning, took on our humanity, and became one of us. May that Word, and the love it brings into the world, begin again, this Christmas.
We ask for you to listen now to the prayers we share with you, in this time of Holy Silence.
All this we pray in the name of the Word, the Light of the World, who taught us to pray saying, “Our…”