John 1:1-18 · The Word Became Flesh
Miracles in Contrast
John 1:1-18
Sermon
by Maxie Dunnam
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Text: “In him appeared life and this life was the light of mankind. The light still shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never put it out” (John 1:5-6 Phillips).

A Burden and an Ache. That’s the title of a beautiful, heart stirring book written by Clarence McConkey. It’s a series of word portraits of persons in the inner city, living around the church McConkey served as pastor – persons whose lives are as down-beaten and ravaged as the buildings around them, as torn apart as the shattered economic and social structures that once sustained them.

One of those persons is Ruby. Let me introduce you to her in the first person as McConkey does.

Ruby is a child who sits entranced in the street…She is four or five years old I would think. The street which makes up her home is bordered by dilapidated houses, abandoned cars, stray dogs and children…

Ruby is nearly always dirty and ragged. Today she is clad in only underpants. I do not know how long it has been since Ruby has had a bath or has had her hair washed and combed. I sometimes think never. I do not know when she has ever had a good meal or a complete outfit of clothes.

Today she sits in the middle of the street and Ruby is concerned about something she sees in the brick of the street. She concentrates on it with peculiar, childlike intensity…she (gently examines it), is engrossed in it. She does not pick it up but rather puts her hands around it as if to protect it. She is oblivious to me and to all the rest of the world. Nothing about her surroundings concerns her in the least.

What Ruby has cupped in her hands today is a white wild daisy growing between the bricks. This daisy is a thing of color and beauty to Ruby - and to me. Ruby does not destroy or injure it. She puts her hands around it as if to ward off the dangers of an environment which she has come to know as hostile and destructive. She moves closer to the wild daisy, inching forward on her bare stomach, putting her face next to the flower, smelling its fragrance, feeling the texture of the petals. Ruby will let this flower grow until its life is cast into oven, for there is something inexorable in Ruby’s soul which grasps for beauty. I do not ever want to forget this child Ruby. She, her wild daisy flower, this time and space moment, is a unique and heart stopping thing of beauty, even perhaps, a thing of redemption. (1)

A unique and heart-stopping thing, a miracle in contrast! A dirty, underpants-clad street urchin, in a dying community, in a stifling setting, in a spirit-quenching environment, beholding beauty, marveling at the life, protecting it, rinsing her soul in the freshness of it. A miracle in contrast.

I introduce you to Ruby and share this modern miracle in contrast to make it possible for you to meet another person, greet another situation as though for the first time. With freshness of thought, openness, and sensitivity to God - another miracle in contrast. See it in your mind.

Another maid at another time. Not five years old, 18 perhaps. Fresh from the simple life of Nazareth, over whelmed by what was happening to her - a baby in her womb, a mysterious visitation from an angel about the significance of this child she was carrying. With her a mystified husband, unable to comprehend, but accepting this one he loved; protecting her, as anxious as she for the birth. Their place was not the street of the ghetto but the small house in Nazareth, and now, at this time of unique and heart-stopping beauty, a cabe stable behind an Inn in Bethlehem.

Shelter me now
From the cold
She said
Shelter me now
While I bleed
And hear the child
Whose coming is joy?

Shelter me now
From the sheep
And the strangers
Who sleep
In our stable.
Shelter me now
(And she smiled)
Lift him now
There is room
In the manger.(2)

Mary and Joseph cupped their hands of their heart around this daisy of their life. A unique and heart-stopping thing of beauty - a miracle in contrast - yes, a thing of redemption!

That’s what it’s all about - this Christmas business - Miracles in contrast. When the writer of the gospel of John told his Christmas story, he didn’t do it like Matthew and Luke. He didn’t talk about drama with Mary and Joseph and the Baby, the shepherds, and Wise Men, and angels. But rather John began to make some stupendous assertions about the life and character of Jesus, this One who came at Christmastime. These assertions are flung down in marvelous abandon and confidence as though the writer is stumbling over himself, rushing hurriedly on, lest he fail to put something down that ought to be there. We almost hold our breath as we read this story…the atmosphere is so charged. Then we come to that mighty assertion in the 5th and 6th verses, and we have to stop to breathe. “In him appeared life and this life was the light of mankind. The light still shines in the darkness and the darkness has never put it out.

There it is: the miracle in contrast - light against darkness and the darkness never snuffs it out. Is this what Christopher Frye was trying to summarize poetically?

The darkest time of the year
The poorest place in town
Cold and a taste of fear
Man and woman alone
What can we hope for here?

More life than we can learn
More wealth than we can treasure
More love than we can earn
More peace than we can measure
Because one child is born.

Born into a world, I remind you, as violent as Israel and Lebanon, Iran and Iraq. Living among people as poor and miserable as those in Chad, the Sudan, India, and some sections of North Memphis. Dying as violent a death as any we have known in this age of violence. A miracle in contrast. The Miracle of Christmas. With that key let’s unlock the door of our text.

“In him appeared life and this life was the light of mankind. The light still shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never put it out.” (John 1:5-6 Philippians)

In a great piece of music, the composer often begins by stating themes which he is going to work out and elaborate in the course of the whole work. That is what John does here. In this fourth gospel, life and light are two of the great basic words on which the gospel is built. They are the two main themes which it is the aim of the gospel to develop and to expound.

John begins and ends with life. Here at the very beginning we read that in Jesus was life; and at the very end we read that John’s aim in writing the gospel was that men might “believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing ye may have life through His name” (John 20:31) The word life is continually on the lips of Jesus. It is Jesus’ claim that He came that men might have life and that they might have it more abundantly (10:10) In this gospel of John the word life occurs more than 35 times, and the verb to live or to have life more than 15 times.

In Him was life and the life was the light of men.

“The second of the great keywords of John which we meet here is the word light. This word light occurs in the fourth gospel no fewer than 21 times. Jesus, as John says here, is the light of men. The function of John the Baptist was to point men to that light which was in Christ. Twice Jesus calls himself the light of the world. (8:12:9:5) “I am come,” said Jesus, “a light unto the world” (12:46).” (3)

This is the reason that we chose this text for this Christmas Sunday. This is the meaning of Christ’s coming - the great miracle in contrast: life and light set eternally against death and darkness.

Let’s focus that even more specifically. The core of it all, the seed miracle in contrast: human babe, divine incarnation could then be a greater contrast? Human baby – divine incarnation.

Ask a Buddhist what he thinks about a God who would be born a baby; ask a Hindu. Sometimes ask a Moslem. You might even ask a Jew. Ask any devotee of a religion other than Christianity what they think of a God who would come to earth in a little baby. After a while, it may begin to dawn on you that this is pivotal to Christianity. It is the crucial event: the miracle in contrast - human babe, divine incarnation.

No one has captured this more grippingly the Robert Southwell, the religious poet of the 16th century. He wrote most of his poems from prison, and in the midst of 13 applications of torture. He was finally hanged and quartered, but not before giving the world a great legacy of beauty and truth. He expresses this miracle in contrasts in some haunting lines.

This little babe, a few days old,
Is come to rifle Satan’s fold.
All hell doth at His quake,
For in this weak unarmed wise
The gates of hell he will surprise.

Don’t miss that this Christmas: “He himself for cold do shake” Isn’t that what we need to know, deep down at the center of our being - we’ve got to know this! That God has come to us has identified him completely with out lot.

It doesn’t really do us much good to know that there is a god somewhere, or to be told any number of nice things about him. Until we know that the cold blasts of winds that shake us, shake him.

Dare we believe it – that the God of the universe “himself for cold do shake”?

There is a cold wind of anxiety, turmoil, and despair that turns the soul purple with chill.

We all know about it, first hand in our own life, or in the lives of those we love. A friend’s 16 year old son commits suicide - our beloved Sandra Brady continues a valiant battle with malignancy - the 20 year old son of our dear minister friend, the McRaes California - the son brilliant, exceptional musical, talent poised on the edge of the great promises of life, is killed in an auto-accident. And we could go on and on.

“Can any self-respecting god admit that he himself do shake at the cold wind of anxiety, fear and death? It would help if we could believe it.

Listen – to those texts that dramatically punctuate the N.T. They tell us what Christmas is all about and who God is.

“For God who commanded the light shine out of the darkness has shined in our hearts…in him appeared life and the life was the light of men…he rescued us from the domain of darkness and brought us away into the Kingdom of his dear Son, in whom our release is secured and our sins are forgiven... for in Him the complete being of God, by God’s own choice came to dwell.” Human babe, divine incarnation.

All hell doth at His presence quake
Though he himself for cold do shake.

That’s what Christmas tells us about God. Human babe – divine incarnation. God has come to us and taken upon himself our nature, becoming one with in that. We might be one with him.

It is from this miracle in contrast to which we give joyous witness this Christmas that other miracles ensue. In what order would we name them? Could we ever finish their enumeration? You think about them.

There is the night of sin and guilt broken in upon by the bright dawn of forgiveness and acceptance. Is anything more desperately needed? The barbed wire of estrangement, separation, conflict, crisscrosses our lives; the guilt of missing the mark, betraying ourselves and our highest values, selling out to immorality - and so our desperate need: forgiveness and acceptance. In Christ God speaks that forgiving word and here again is a miracle in contrast: dark night of sin and guilt, bright dawn of forgiveness and acceptance.

Look again to Southwell’s expression of it.

“In this weak unarmed wise, the gates of hell he will surprise.”

What a strategy on the part of God - to take hell, all our hells by surprise. What is the focus here? Another miracle in contrast? Strong powers of physical strength, military might, intellectual acumen, economic power in contrast to a weak babe with only love as a weapon. But here is the strongest power in heaven and on earth. This is the reason the gates of hell are surprised.

“When the cold wind of impersonality blows through the world where we live, what warms us? Love.

“When the cold wind of anxiety turns our souls purple, what warms us - even in death? Love.

“When guilt chills us into utter loneliness, what for gives us and thaws us out into freedom? Love. (Dow Kirkpatrick)

That’s what we are celebrating here. At Christmas God is whispering to every person, “I love you.”

So let our text say it again – “In him appeared life and this life was the light of mankind. The light still shines in the darkness and the darkness has never put it out.”

And let the poet’s word-picture be framed on the wall of our hearts.

The darkest time of the year
The poorest place in town
Cold and a taste of fear
Man and woman alone
What can we hope for here?

More light than we can learn
More wealth than we can treasure
More than we can earn
More than we can measure
Because one child is born


1. Clarence McConkey, A Burden and An Ache, pages 22-23

2. Thomas John Carlisle, “Shelter Me Now”, Celebration p. 12

3. Barclay, The Gospel of John, pages 20-21, 23-24

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by Maxie Dunnam