I Christmas – December 26, 2010
“And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”
Try as we might, I doubt if we could find a more eloquent summary statement of why it is that we who call ourselves Christians choose to meet together as often as we do to give thanks to God, unless it’s that other even more familiar summary statement which begins: “For God so loved the world…”.
Of course, the trouble with summary statements is that they leave out a lot of the details and often cover a multitude of sins.
So it helps if what you will allow me to call the high poetry of the Prologue to John’s Gospel is tempered now and then by some prose the likes of “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John” or “He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him”, even if such editorial comments can be jarring as well, since they tend to break or at least alter the flow.
Thankfully, we almost immediately recognize that the person referred to as the man named John is not the author of the Gospel, but rather John the Baptist, who kind of appears out of nowhere; the course correction we have to make ia nearly instantaneous; still, it is enough of a detour that we may have to refocus.
At this point I must apologize to anyone, who up until this moment never once imagined that “the man sent from God, whose name was John” might be the author and not John the Baptist. Shame on me!)
It’s possible that some of you are thinking that my harping on this obviously contrived case of mistaken identity is threatening to make a mess out of one of the most sublime utterances to be found in the New Testament.
If that is in fact the case, then I have achieved my purpose, which was to model, however feebly, what happens when the Word or any word becomes flesh: Things get messy.
And that’s good because that is exactly what is supposed to happen or nothing would be accomplished.
Now I must admit that I would not be taking this particular tack if I had not attended the recent diocesan clergy retreat at Waycross and heard the meditations on Advent and Christmas, which Sam Portaro, retired Episcopal chaplain at the University of Chicago, offered during the roughly two and a half days of relative silence we spent together, especially the point in one of his meditations when Sam suggested that by allowing the Word to become flesh God, who “had in mind from the very beginning a notion of what the world could be [at its best]”, was obliged to accept the limitations of what being human requires, a “humbling, even, humiliating dependence on the physical”.
No wonder Sam went on to speculate that “…the Nativity might not, perhaps…ought not, to have been necessary”, yet was the unavoidable “consequence of God’s dependence on the physical, the consequence of human limitation—[a] limitation that [even an omniscient God] could not have anticipated.”
Viewed in this light the idea of the Word becoming flesh may lose some of its poetic grandeur, but what it gains is the ring of truth, as word—in this case the Word with a capital W—is translated into action and God willingly shares the consequences of that action with all humanity, regardless of how messy those consequences become.
You and I know what it means when we “give our word”, our word that we will do such and such; we expect and we are expected to “make good” on the word we have given, no matter what the cost.
For God to “make good” on the Word, which “was with God, and…was God” that Word had to become flesh “and live among us”, no matter what the cost.
I can’t think of a more appropriate scriptural grounding for what it is that we as a congregation are preparing to do this day: to witness the blessing of the marriage of two of our own—to witness the blessing of the marriage of Ken and Junelle Dreyer.
T. S. Eliot said “I gotta use words, when I talk to you”, and vows are the words we say to each other that only mean something if we make good on them.
A year ago Ken and Junelle made some vows, which they will be reaffirming this morning.
In the year that has passed I am sure that they have learned that just as it was when “the Word became flesh” there are times when no matter how sincere you are in your attempts to make good on your word things can get messy—not hopelessly messy, just messy.
Dare I repeat what I said earlier that when the Word or any word becomes flesh that is what happens…things get messy, and that is good because that is what is supposed to happen or nothing would be accomplished?
What is significant and admirable about what Ken and Junelle are doing this day is that they have embraced that sobering, yet hopeful reality that is a part of any and every relationship and are asking us to support them in their continued commitment to each other with our love and our prayers and to invite God’s special blessing on the household they have established.
That is why after they have reaffirmed their vows, have heard our pledge of support, and stretched forth their hands to have the rings they have given to each other blessed, Jonathan will join them, as they receive God’s blessing as a family.
What an honor Ken and Junelle have bestowed upon us, their fellow parishioners by asking us to share with them in this wonderful moment!
Ken and Junelle, my brother and my sister in Christ, I invite you now to come forward, and I ask the congregation to stand.
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