Sunday, December 29, 2019

Children of God


A Sermon preached on Dec. 29 Christmas I at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden
Isaiah 61:10-62:3, Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7, John 1: 1-18



If you were at our late service on Christmas Eve, just 5 days ago, you will already have heard the reading from the prologue of John’s Gospel. I am not at all tempted to reuse my sermon from a few days ago. For one thing, there are too many witnesses, for another I would get bored reading the same sermon again. But most importantly it would not be “contextual.” We interpret scripture in context, and there are many different contexts that apply. We have the context in which the passage was written – what was going on, what was society like, what was important for the Christian community of that time? We have the context and content of the reading itself – where is it in the Gospel, what has or is about to happen, what sort of text is it? And we have the context in which the passage is being read and heard. Today’s context, Sunday December 29, the 1st Sunday after Christmas, is different to that of Christmas Eve. We are in the same place, but at a different time, with different (and fewer!) people and today we also have the context of Holy Baptism.


In that context, what jumps out for me among the many other wonderful promises of this passage is this:

But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.” (John 1:12) 


And in Paul’s letter to the Galatians, we have a similar promise:

“But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. And because you are children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, "Abba! Father!" So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God.” (Galatians 4:4-7)


What does this mean? Well a god or gods having children was nothing unusual in the religions and mythologies of that time. The senior Greco-Roman God Jupiter or Zeus was infamous for the number of children he had with goddesses and humans, some of them in circumstances that we would probably call rape today. Some of his many divine and usually also heroic offspring include Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Hermes, Persephone, Dionysus, Perseus, Heracles, Helen of Troy, Minos, and the Muses. But there are key differences between these children and our role as God’s children. 


For Jews, and for Christians, and also for Muslims, God, our God, can’t have children in a physical way, because God is not a being, God is wholly other, God is separate, God is the creator of all. That’s why Paul uses the language of adoption and spirit to describe how we become God’s children, and John – in the NIV translation – talks about “children born not of natural descent” (NRSV: “not of blood”). 


Both John and Paul also make clear that the power or ability to become God’s children is very closely connected to Jesus Christ. John says that it is those who receive Jesus and believe in his name who are given the right to become children of God. Paul says that it was necessary that God first send his Son, born of a woman, to redeem – liberate and release us – before we receive adoption as children, and that to strengthen and support this new connection with God, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts. Our direct, human to human relationship with God is through Jesus Christ, whose incarnation, whose becoming human we celebrate at Christmas. Put simply, with Jesus as our brother, God is our father. 


Now, this has all already happened. God became human on that first Christmas, and God’s Son redeemed us on the Cross in a once and for all sacrifice on that first Good Friday. 


So, Julie, (Omar), Jazmarie, and Mason are already children of God. Why does it sound as if we only making them members of God’s family today, in Baptism? What does it mean when we pray after they have been baptized with water and the spirit: “We receive you into the household [family] of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.”[1]


Well, what we are actually doing today in Baptism is recognizing and celebrating that they have accepted, acknowledged and chosen to believe in that relationship. In some verses we did not hear this morning – they were left out from the selection from Galatians - Paul makes the connection between being or becoming children, faith, Christ, and Baptism very clear:

“So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.” (Galatians 3:26-27) 


He also immediately goes on to say (3:28) “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” God’s family is universal and inclusive and knows no barriers. The children of Zeus or Jupiter were just those select few, heroic, superhumans. In our faith, everyone has the potential and the power to become children of God and truly human, not superhuman.  


One more thing, and one more difference between today’s reading from the prologue to John’s Gospel and Christmas Eve’s. Today’s selection has four extra verses (15 – 18) including the last one we heard: “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.” God’s Son has made God known to us in his life, acts, teaching, and in his death. We have seen God’s love in the person of Christ and in the context of Baptism, as Paul writes, we clothe ourselves with Christ. That makes it our job as children and heirs, as Christians to make Christ known and through Christ, to make God known!  This is a key part of the promises you will make – together with everyone else here – in the Baptismal Covenant right now.

Amen.










[1] BCP, p. 308

Tuesday, December 24, 2019

What's the story?


A Sermon preached on Dec. 24 Christmas Eve at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden
Isaiah 52: 7-10, Hebrews 1: 1-4, John 1: 1-14

The four Gospel writers each have a different approach to the story of Jesus’ birth. Mark doesn’t bother with it at all. His story only starts with the beginning of Jesus’s adult ministry and his baptism by John the Baptist. While Matthew and Luke both tell us the story of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, each has a slightly different focus. Luke writes more from Mary’s perspective, Matthew from Joseph’s. Luke focuses on Jesus’ mission to the poor and outcast of Israel, like the shepherds for example. Matthew wants us to know from the very beginning that Jesus did not just come to save Israel, but the whole world – like the three wise men or kings from exotic, foreign lands.

But you didn’t hear either of those versions in tonight’s Gospel reading, although they are still present in our Christmas creche scene. Instead you heard the Prologue to the Gospel of John: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1:1)

One of the problems with Luke and Matthew’s versions and what we have made out of them  – what we might call the ‘manger danger’ – is that they can focus on a harmless, innocent, unthreatening baby, something that can arouse little more than affection and admiration: sweet baby Jesus. The explanation of Jesus’ origin in John’s Gospel on the other hand can also be problematic from the opposite angle – sounding too abstract or philosophical, too distant, too transcendent! In both cases, the danger, the risk is to think that these stories, these passages have nothing to say to us, nothing to do with us, and no impact on our lives. 

But both of those problems can only come from a superficial reading of the Gospel passages. That sweet baby can’t really be harmless as he sounds. Even at his birth, Jesus arouses much more than simple affection. He is immediately worshipped and adored by common people, by strangers, and by the heavenly host. There is a manger danger, the manger is indeed dangerous – for Jesus, for those who follow him, and for those who feel threatened by what Jesus stands for. He is feared by those in power. Rome’s puppet king Herod tries to have him killed and his family have to flee the country to save their lives. Later one of Herod’s sons will be involved in Jesus’ death. 

From the beginning, the baby is identified as the savior – as the one who will bring hope, healing and liberation for those in need and salvation – new life – for anyone who turns to him in love. Both Luke and Matthew’s birth narratives therefore make very clear that something very special is happening on this holy night: this child is the savior, the Messiah, the Lord, God in human flesh. 

John’s prologue covers much the same ground – it just goes back even further, before the very beginning of time and uses more poetic language. The “Word who was with God, and the Word who was God” is not just some abstract principle of divine reason and creative order – instead this Word became flesh, literally meat, and lived among us as the human being Jesus Christ. For those who believe, the Word is worshipped and adored as “the glory … of a father's only son, full of grace and truth” (1:14) and as the one who brings life – who is the very source of life – and as the divine light that shines in the darkness and shines especially bright for those who are in darkness: the poor, unloved, rejected, oppressed, those who have lost hope. The Word, who is Jesus, brings hope, healing and liberation for those in need and salvation – new life – for anyone who turns to him in love.

Just like the baby, John’s mighty Word who came to live among us was perceived as a threat and was rejected and in the end killed by those for whom his message was a threat: “He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him.” (John 1:10-11)

The Christmas story is not about a baby and not about an abstract philosophical concept. To paraphrase the Letter from the Hebrews (1:1), “in their many and various ways” the different Gospel writers tell us that over 2000 years ago, God sent a Son, as “the reflection of God's glory” to speak to us, to live with us, to share our lives – good and bad, and to transform us and our lives into something better. We are all already created in God’s image – we have that “exact imprint of God's very being” in us. We just don’t act that way. But if we follow the one who became flesh and lived among us, using his life as our guide, and abiding by his teachings, and loving one another and God as God in Jesus loves us, then that imprint of God's very being, that imprint that is love, will become visible in us and will begin to shape and reshape our lives.

My boss, well one of my many earthly bosses, our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry just loves the prologue to John’s Gospel. It was the theme of his Christmas message this year. I’ll finish with his summary of what that prologue means for us today:
 “But there is a God. And there is Jesus. And even in the darkest night. That light once shined and will shine still. His way of love is the way of life. It is the light of the world. And the light of that love shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not, cannot, and will not overcome it.”[1]
Amen.


[1] https://episcopalchurch.org/posts/publicaffairs/presiding-bishop-currys-christmas-message-2019