John 1:1-18 · The Word Became Flesh
Christmas Every Day
John 1:1-18
Sermon
by T. A. Kantonen
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In the midst of a crowd of people jostling one another during the Christmas rush at Upper Valley Mall, a man remarked to me, "I’m glad that Christmas comes only once a year. It leaves my pocketbook pretty thin." If all that Christmas means is a seasonal shopping spree, it leaves only a bitter taste in the mouth. To be sure, there is a sweet sentimentality about the candlelight service on Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day itself is joyfully observed in our homes. But then what? Suddenly the long awaited holiday is all over and the inevitable feeling of letdown sets in. Another Christmas has come and gone. Does this mean that like the ornaments on the Christmas tree the Christmas story too is to be stored away until next year?

The poet James Russell Lowell gave expression to a different conception of Christmas:

"And they who do their souls no wrong,
But keep at eve the faith of morn,
Shall daily hear the angel song:
Today the Prince of Peace is born."

Those who have grasped the true meaning of Christmas know that it is not a mere date in a calendar. It is a glorious truth which retains its vitality throughout the year.

What is the perennial truth which the Christmas story brings to a focus? The author of the fourth gospel captures it and is led to tell the story in a strange way. He says nothing about the angels or the shepherds, about the manger or the star of Bethlehem. But he grasps the permanent meaning of the event that happened in Bethlehem 2,000 years ago, what the birth of the Christ-child has meant through the rolling centuries, what it means to us today. The almighty God who by his word made heaven and earth expressed himself, made himself known to men, by taking on the flesh and blood of a human baby. The eternal word became a human being. This is the abiding mystery and wonder of Christmas.

An atomic scientist, speaking in behalf of exchange scholarships for students from different countries, said, "The best way to send an idea is to wrap it up in a person." This is what God did on the first Christmas. The theological term for that divine action is incarnation, derived from carnis, the Latin word for flesh. "The word became flesh and dwelt among us." The meaning becomes clearer when we use the Phillips translation of this sentence: "So the word of God became a human being and lived among us." Thus an American theologian, Nels Ferre, has coined a new term for the incarnation, enmanment.

Whether we use the word of Latin or of English origin, it stands for something astounding and unfathomable. The baby born to a young Jewish girl almost 2,000 years ago is none other than "God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God." When he grew up and taught people on a mountainside or a lake shore, it was God himself speaking the same creative word by which the heavens were made. When he was nailed to a Roman cross planted on a Judean hill, it was God in action to reconcile an estranged world to himself. And when he rose from the dead, it was God bringing eternal life to mortal men. Man’s life is now linked with God’s life. Saint Irenaeus, one of the great early Fathers of the church, states the meaning of Christmas in words of simple beauty and depth: "Jesus Christ, in his infinite love, has become what we are in order that he may make us entirely what he is."

It is easy to lose this depth perspective which differentiates sharply between the Christian gospel and all other forms of religion. The miracle of a God born in a stable may come for its share of wonderment at Christmastide, but all too often during the rest of the year Jesus is presented only as the Master Teacher whose precepts we are to learn and practice, as the Model Man whose example we are to follow. The enmanment of God gives way to men’s efforts to realize their own divine potentialities. God’s way to man is abandoned in favor of man’s way to God. Ideas and ideals, programs and policies, take the place of the word that became flesh. The Christian message must never lose sight of its ultimate goal, the establishment of a personal relationship between human beings and the God who confronts them man to man in Christ. For this reason the "Jesus our Immanuel" of whom we sing at Christmas must be the Jesus who brings God into our life every day.

As a mother tucked her child in bed and left her alone in the bedroom, she said quietly, "It looks as if we shall have a thunderstorm tonight. But do not be afraid. God will take care of you." Soon the storm did break with fierce flashings and thunderings. The frightened child cried out for her mother. When the mother came and comforted her, she said gently, "You know, dear, I told you God is right here and he takes care of you." The child replied, "Yes, mother, I know that, but when it thunders like that a little girl wants somebody near who has skin on."

A word was not enough. Even a mother’s reassuring word was inadequate. The child needed a friendly human presence, a gentle human voice, the touch of a warm human hand. That is how the Baby of Bethlehem brings God to us. God has been a word, an awe-inspiring word or an encouraging and comforting word. But the word has represented a fuzzy idea, something or somebody far, far away. Now the word becomes flesh. God puts on human nature, with its skin and all, and becomes a living and saving presence. He is now more than a word. He is Immanuel, God with us.

The biggest problem which the world faces today is the transformation of human nature. This has become acutely important in the nuclear age when man has achieved mastery over the basic forces of physical nature but has not learned to control the destructive power of evil within himself. The solution does not lie in developing man’s natural capacities but in implanting God’s life into man’s life.

One of the most delicious and valuable of fruits, the peach, was once in its wild state used only as a source of poison in which Iranian tribesmen dipped their arrows to slay their enemies. But through a patient process of grafting and cultivating the poisons have disappeared and a wholesome fruit has emerged. The lasting significance of Christmas is that the branch of righteousness, the rod from the stem of Jesse, the Christ of God, has been engrafted upon our sinful stock so that human nature might be changed, rid of the poisons of sin and ennobled to become what God meant it to be.

Christmas is God’s own way of transforming human nature. It provides the divine resources needed to overcome evil. But these resources must be appropriated. This means that the story of the birth of the baby in Bethlehem is only the preface to the birth of the Christ-life in the hearts of men and women, of boys and girls. When Christmas ceases to be a seasonal sentimental story and becomes a living experience, it produces changed lives, more sensitive, more unselfish and sympathetic, more patient and loving. It is for this that Phillips Brooks prayed:

"Cast out our sin, and enter in,
Be born in us today."

Christmas provides not only divine resources but also a divine strategy. The incarnation is a unique event but it also reveals the method which God uses to win back his lost children. Through consecrated men and women in whom the Christ-child has been born anew God still manifests himself in human relations and makes his saving impact upon the world. In Kierkegaard’s language, God becomes real to men only when the incarnation is "reduplicated" in the lives of Christians. Paul made similar use of the concept of incarnation when he said that we carry in our bodies the crucified and risen Lord "so that the life of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh" (2 Corinthians 4:5-11). The word that became flesh for us becomes flesh in us as he uses us to establish contact with other people. Christ himself walks in our steps, looks through our eyes, thinks in our thoughts, speaks through our words, loves through our hearts. Through us the Kingdom of God impinges on the lives of men and God becomes real to them.

An anonymous poet has expressed well this process of ongoing incarnation which makes every day a Christmas day:

"Not merely in the words you say,
Not only in your deeds confessed,
But in the most unconscious way
Is Christ expressed.

Is it a beatific smile?
A holy light upon your brow?
Oh, no! I felt his presence while
You laughed just now.

For me ‘twas not the truth you taught,
To you so clear, to me so dim,
But when you came to me you brought
A sense of him.

And from your eyes he beckons me
And from your heart his love is shed,
Till I lose sight of you - and see
The Christ instead."

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., Good News For All Seasons, by T. A. Kantonen