Christmas 1C
In the name of God. Amen.
It all starts with a word. And words have power. They have power, not just in the ways that they instruct or inform, but they have even greater power as symbols that take on even deeper meaning.
“Once upon a time…”
“I do.”
“Amen.”
“There once was a man from Nantucket…”
They’re all just words. But they bring with them meaning, and implications, and expectations that are greater than just themselves. All words have power. But, like the first chords of a familiar and beloved song, there are certain words that, taken together, mean more.
In our tradition, “In the beginning was the Word…” is like that.
The John approach to the start of the story of Jesus is so far outside of the approach taken by some of the other gospels – particularly Luke – and it’s also incredibly far outside of the approach that’s taken by our broader cultural understanding of the start of Jesus’ story.
For John, the story of Jesus doesn’t start with a manger. It doesn’t start with a trip to Bethlehem and no place to stay. It doesn’t start with a young pregnant woman who is engaged to be married. It doesn’t even start with choirs of angels singing praises or messages in the stars.
For John, the story of Jesus starts with a word. The Word, to be specific. And it starts at the beginning. Not just the beginning of Jesus’ life on earth, but at the beginning of God’s creation and God’s relationship with that creation.
Then, John’s Gospel skips over all the familiar story telling that we typically associate with Christmas and jumps ahead to a prophet – a prophet of coming light.
The light was already there – from the dawn of creation. And, the Gospel tells us, that the light was, at its core, life – and that the light was more powerful than the darkness that stood opposed to it.
Now, just because John chooses to tell the story of Jesus without the more common story-telling devices of the season, it doesn’t mean that we can’t still use them. In our house, we’re still very much in Christmas movie mode. And part of the reason these movies that we’re drawn to at this time of year work so well, is that they do touch on important aspects of the story that the season calls to mind.
One of my favorites is always just about any of the versions of the Dickens classic, A Christmas Carol. There are as many adaptations and interpretations and different takes on the story as you can imagine, and we always are sure to catch at least a few of them during the season. Just a few days before Christmas, we watched our first one for this year, and the one we decided to start with was A Muppet Christmas Carol.
I keep telling myself that I’ll read the little novella one of these days – which I’ve never actually done – to see what aspects of the popular story are actually directly from Dickens and what aspects may have evolved through the many years that the story has been told. I’m also curious what parts of the original work have been missed or left out of the typical film versions.
But there was this one line in the Muppet version of the story that really struck me this year. Gonzo, as the narrator, said of Ebenezer Scrooge, “Darkness was cheap, and Scrooge liked it.”
Those are words that are begging to be taken beyond themselves into the realm of symbolism. “Darkness was cheap, and Scrooge liked it.”
In this time of the prophet proclaiming the light that has come into the world – the light that was always here; even if obscured, even if the filters of our lives and expectations prevented us from recognizing it – in such a time as this, the Gospel’s words are important. “What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”
Scrooge was right – darkness is cheap. And while it may sometimes draw us in, and we may find value in it, in the end we always remember that in the scheme of things, it’s cheap. What Scrooge learned as the story went on, and what we know through our faith in Christ, is that while darkness is cheap, light is free – freely given. Darkness might be easy, but light is freeing. And, when we are immersed in darkness it may feel powerful, but in the face of light it is weak. In the face of light, darkness cannot stand. Just a little light is enough to extinguish the darkness, and just a little light is all that it takes to make the light grow.
At Christmas we get to bask in that light. We get to warm ourselves in it, like the warmth of a gentle fire on an icy day.
And like Scrooge, once we see it – once we have been fed by it, and warmed by it, and healed by it – then, we get to be it. We get to be the light for someone else who thinks they’re trapped in the darkness. Like the prophet testifying to the light, we get to testify to the light, too. We get to share it, just like it was shared with us.
In that light, the Word can be seen. Words are like that. They can be seen in the light. But they don’t need the light to survive. Because even when they can’t be seen, they can still be heard. Words are powerful – to the point where even darkness can’t kill them. They meet us where we are, by whatever means we have available.
The Word of God, Jesus, the Christ, is the same. Even if it feels impossible to see Christ, Christ is still calling. Listen. The Word will find us however we can be found. And when we hear that call, the seeing is never far behind.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
That Word still calls and still shines today. That Word – the Word – means more than any word. Hear it. See it. And share it. Amen.
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