Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral

Sermon

In the Beginning

December 25, 2004 (The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ: Christmas Day)

By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean

- Isaiah 52:7-10
- Psalm 98:1-6
- Heb 1:1-12
- John 1:1-14

(From The Lectionary Page)

Librarian Nancy Pearl says that you can’t judge a book by its cover, but a first line can tell you a lot. When I heard her interview on National Public Radio last September, my favorite opening line immediately came to mind, and in fact was the first example Ms. Pearl cited. It comes from Rose Macaulay’s novel The Towers of Trepizond, which begins:

“ ‘Take my camel, dear,’ said Aunt Dot, as she climbed down from that animal after returning from High Mass.” Now that’s a first line! It grabs you, and excites you about the possibilities ahead.

There may be no more profound opening line than that from John’s gospel: In the Beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

That opening phrase, In the Beginning, transports us to Genesis, where the first book of the Scriptures describes God creating all. By the second chapter, the beginning is off to a rocky start, and soon after Adam and Eve are banished from Eden.

St. John begins his Gospel with those opening words of Genesis, for he is convinced that in Christ Jesus there is a new beginning and paradise is once again opened to us! For the Word, the Logos of God that was before all things, God from God, is born as a human. How wonderfully scandalous! The flaming sword keeping humanity out of Paradise is removed forever, for the Messiah, Redeemer and Savior, has come. Mary’s child, reflecting the glory of God, and bearing the very stamp of God, was born just as were you and I. And the heavens cry out in glory!

In his Christmas Message to the Anglican Communion, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Most Rev. Rowan Williams tells of a recent discussion with experts who work with young people who live with various forms of autism -- the disorder that seems to cut people off from ordinary communication and shows itself in repetitive behavior and sometimes in violent outbursts. The Archbishop watched a video on the work of a leading therapist, and writes these words:

The first thing we saw on the video was a young man, severely disturbed, beating his head against a wall, and then walking fast up and down the room, twisting and flicking a piece of string. The therapist's first response was strange: she began to twist and flick a piece of string as well. When the young man made a noise, so did she; when he began to do something different, like banging his hand on a table, she did the same.

After two days of this treatment, the boy had begun to smile at her and to respond when touched. A relationship had been created. Autism arises when the brain senses too much information coming in. There is a feeling of panic; the mind has to somehow regain control. And the best way of doing this is to close up on yourself and repeat actions that are familiar; do nothing new, and don't acknowledge anything coming from outside. But when the therapist gently echoes the actions and rhythms, the anxious and wounded mind of the autistic person sees that there is after all a link with the outside world that isn't threatening. ‘Here is someone doing what I do; the world isn't just an unfamiliar place of terror and uncertainty. And so relationship begins. (quoted and/or adapted from +Rowan Cantuar.)

What a powerful image of Christmas, of what has happened in the Incarnation!

There are times you and I feel bombarded by too much information about suffering and pain.
• We feel helpless as we hear of hunger and disease wiping out a whole generation in Africa,
• Our throats tighten as the names of those killed in Iraq the past week are read here each Sunday and we imagine how many unnamed others have died.
• We cannot comprehend how poverty can be increasing in this the wealthiest nation on earth.

It is enough to cause us to close in and close up, to do nothing new, to settle into repetitious behavior, which both isolates and insulates us from so much pain and despair. At times, we will even choose the equivalent of beating our heads against a wall rather than face the pain.

What we celebrate this Christmastide is God’s rebuke of isolation and insulation. With boldness and genius, God comes not with majesty or legions of avenging warriors, but as one of us, born as one of us, a baby vulnerable for years, dependent upon the love and protection and care of others. Staggering! The Incarnate Word comes to echo us, to do what we do, to know our trials and temptations, our greatest joys and many faults, for it is the best way, really the only way, to build an authentic relationship with us so that we can be healed, forgiven, and restored.

The phrase “In the Beginning” does not simply belong to Genesis or John’s Gospel. It describes us, today, now. This Christmas Day is a new beginning for each of us, and for the mission of this Cathedral.

Today God begins a healing relationship with us, to draw us out of isolation, to help us arise from lifeless patterns, and instead, respond to the suffering of the world and of this city by serving our brothers and sisters, by creating relationships. God put on flesh to save us. We must put on flesh, we must incarnate in our lives the glory and grace of God that we have received.

This Christmastide must not be an excuse to escape the world for a few days. We must let Christ touch us and inspire us to create here the City of God, where people are no longer cold for lack of heat or lack of compassion; where people no longer hunger for food for their bodies or purpose for their lives; where the darkness of injustice and poverty is vanquished by the Light from Light we worship this day, which we reflect in our servanthood.

A final point. This first Christmas for my family and me here in Kansas City has us filled with excitement and expectation. As we continue our own family traditions, we have enjoyed several Christmas firsts here such as our first glimpse of the breath-taking lights of the Plaza and our first time to join in City Come Again with William Jewell College here at the Cathedral. I was also blessed by another Kansas City tradition, the reprint of Bill Vaughan’s “A Story of Christmas” in yesterday’s Kansas City Star, a tradition dating back to at least 1959.

A daughter asks her father to tell her a story of Christmas. He first begins to tell a tale of elves, but before he can finish, the girl thanks him but politely says that she is tired of elves.

He then begins a story of puppies, but she has grown tired of that story, too.

Stories about Christmas trees and work at the North Pole are also rejected.

Even recalling his own childhood Christmases on a farm with sleigh rides is not what the girl wants to her.

Finally, a story whose words are so firmly in his memory comes to mind. And he begins, “And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed…” And the girl’s hand tightened around her father’s a bit, and he told her a story of Christmas.

Let us never forget, that of all the things we as the Body of Christ must be about this Christmastide it is to hear again and learn more of the glory of this story. And of all the riches we as the Church have to share, it is this story of hope, redemption, love, and forgiveness that every person most wants to hear, the story which our world desperately needs to believe in again.

My sisters and brothers: let our joy be full and our celebrations high this Christmastide. Break forth into singing a new song to the Lord. We are comforted! We are healed! We are saved! God is one of us, God is with us, Emmanuel. Then let our joy lead us to commitment and purpose. Let us build relationships that create peace and promote healing, and let us redeem the same old patterns that promote the status quo with new songs and new ways to serve.

I give you a mystery: Our God has taken on flesh, our God reigns from a feeding trough. And there, God’s glory has never shone brighter.

St. John has written the most incredible opening line, In the Beginning. Together, let us write an equally incredible story. Let us share a Christmas story, THE Christmas story, that God has come to love and save us.

Linda Sue, Tim, and Rebekah join me in wishing you a joyous Twelve Days of Christmas filled with hope, light, peace and remarkable stories.