Christmas 1B, 2020 And the Word became Flesh
December 27 St. Mark’s, Little Rock, John 1:1-14.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him.” / This is John’s Christmas story. Christmas is a time for stories. Here is another lesser known Christmas story about the Word given to us by Barbara Brown Taylor.
Once upon a time, before time begins, before clocks, calendars, or churches, God makes the universe. Only two stories survive telling us how this happens because only the three selves of God, God the Creator, God the Word, The Logos, and God the Holy Spirit are present at the beginning. During this time before time, God, who loves to make things, creates a world and fills it with the most amazing things: humpback whales that sing, fish that swim upstream,/ birds with more colors than a box of Crayola crayons. God sits back and looks at it all, and God is pleased./ But something seems missing. It dawns on God that everything God has made is interesting and gorgeous, but nothing looks exactly like God. It is as if God paints this huge masterpiece and fails to sign it. So, God makes his signature piece, two of something made in God's own image, so anyone who looks at them will know who the artist is.
Flesh is God’s medium—flesh and blood—extremely flexible, warm to the touch./ God watches his two creatures walk hand in hand, laugh and run, and God falls in love with them. God enjoys being with them better than any other creatures he has made. God especially enjoys walking with them in the garden in the cool of the evening.
It almost breaks God's heart when they do the only thing God asks them not to do and then hide. God searches the garden until way past dark, calling their names over and over again.
Things become different after that. God still loves the human creatures best of all, but the attraction is not mutual. Birds are crazy about God, especially the mallards and those tiny sandpipers on the ocean's edge. Dolphins and deer can not get enough of him, but human beings have other things on their minds. They keep busy learning how to make things, grow things, buy things, sell things, / and the more they learn to do for themselves,/ the less they depend on God. Night after night God throws pebbles at their windows, inviting them to go for a walk, but they say, “So sorry. We are too busy/ or too tired.”
Soon most human beings forget all about God. They call themselves "self-made" men and women, as if that is a significant achievement. They honestly believe they have created themselves, and they like the result so much that they divide themselves into groups of people who look, think, and talk alike. Those who still believe in God draw pictures of God that look exactly like them, making it easier to exclude people who look different.
Meanwhile, God SHOUTS to them from the sidelines with every means God can think of, miracles, messengers, manna. God gets inside people's dreams, wakes them up in the middle of the night with his whispering. No matter what God tries, however, he meets the barriers of flesh and blood. Humans are made of it and God is not, which makes translation difficult. God says, "PLEASE!" but all they hear is THUNDER. God says, "I love you as much now as the day I made you, " but all they hear is the persistent honk of the Canadian geese majestically flying south./
BABIES are the exception to this sad state of affairs. While their parents seem deaf to God's messages, babies have no trouble hearing God. They spend all their time LAUGHING at God's jokes or CRYING with God when God cries, which goes right over their parents' heads. "COLIC" the grown-ups say, or "Isn't she cute? She's laughing at the dust mites in the sunlight." Only she really laughs because God just whispered to her that it is cleaning day in heaven, and what she sees are fallen stars/ the angels shake from their feather dusters.
Babies do not go to war. They never make hate speeches or litter or refuse to play with each other because they belong to different political parties. They depend on other people for everything, and a phrase like "SELF-MADE BABY" would make them LAUGH until their bellies ache. While no one asks their opinions about anything that matters,/ almost everyone seems to love them, and THAT GIVES GOD AN IDEA.
Why not become one of these delightful babies HIMSELF?
God presents the idea at his cabinet of archangels. At first, God's celestial advisors are silent. Eventually, the senior archangel, Gabriel, steps forward and tells God they would worry if God does this. God would put himself at the mercy of his creatures. If God seriously means to become one of them, there would be no escape, if things do not work out. Why not at least create himself as a magical baby with super hero powers? Maybe the ability to become invisible, or the power to hurl bolts of lightning if the need arises. The baby idea is a stroke of genius./ It really is,/ but it lacks adequate safety features.
God thanks the archangels for their concern but says, no, he will be a regular baby… 6 lbs, 11 oz, 20 inches tall, limited vocabulary, unemployed, zero net worth. A nobody. God's agent. The last, the least of all. How else can God gain the trust of God’s creatures? How else can God persuade us that God knows our lives inside out,/ unless God lives a life like ours? There is a risk. A HUGE risk. But this is what God wants his creatures to know: that God will risk everything to get close to us, so we might know how much God loves us.
It is a daring plan. When the angels see that God is dead set on it, they break into applause—not the hysterical kind but the steady clapping that goes on and on when you witness something you know you will never see again.
God then meets privately with his three selves, the Creator, the Word and the Spirit. They do not record this intimate conversation. This is the rumor of what occurs./ God says, “I’d go there myself, but how?” After much loving and respectful dialogue, the Creator kindly says, “I think the Word, the Wisdom, is hearing this as a calling.” “I agree,” says the Spirit, “and I will do everything I can to help.” The Word says, “Let it be with me/ according to your word.”
The Word leaves the cabinet chamber and sheds his majestic robes. The angels follow him and watch his midnight blue mantle fall to the floor as all the stars on it collapse in a heap. Then a strange thing happens./ Where the robes fall, the floor of heaven evaporates/ and opens up to reveal a scruffy brown pasture speckled with sheep and several shepherds sitting around a campfire drinking wine out of a skin. Who knows who is more surprised, the shepherds/ or the angels. As the shepherds look up at them, the angels push their senior member to the edge of the hole. Looking down at the human beings who are trying to hide behind each other, the angel says in as gentle a voice as she can muster, “Do not be afraid; for I bring you good news of great joy/ for all people: to you is born this day in the city of David/ a savior who is Christ, the Lord.”/
And away up the hill, in the direction of the town/ comes the sound of a newborn baby’s cry. /
“And the Word becomes flesh and lives among us.”
Merry Christmas.
Barbara Brown Taylor, "God's Daring Plan," Bread of Angels, pp. 31-35.
Cloth for the Cradle, Iona Community Wild Goose Worship group, pp. 86-90.