The Apostle John is at it again. He’s the follower of Jesus with aspirations of being a real artist. We read last week of his amazing, wonder-watching story of Mary, the baby Jesus, and a dragon. And this week, he goes a bit of a different direction, a bit less action movie-ee and more philosophical documentary with a voice over from Morgan Freeman. This week – he wants to tell the Christmas story in way that hearkens all the way back – back to the beginning of time – in order to tell us about a wonder watching God. “In the beginning,” he writes, “was the verb.”
A wonder-watching God is a verb.
In the most common French translation of John 1:1, it says: “Au commencement etait le Verbe . . .” In the beginning was the verb . . .
I love this rendition. It points us to the fact that this God, before everything, before everyone, before your failure or your decision, does something – to reveal himself, to save us, to shine. Every other religion says if you want to find God, if you want to improve yourself, if you want to have higher consciousness, if you want to connect with the divine – you have to do something. The Gospels – the story of Christmas – say the exact opposite. Jesus is the verb, from the very beginning, who came to do for you what you cannot do for yourself. Jesus is the verb of God - a visible word, an active word that creates, shines, redeems, gives, and transforms. Friends, Jesus doesn’t simply save you – he made you. You were his before you ever knew it.
And this God in Jesus is still speaking. The incarnation – God becoming human – is not what Greek grammar calls punctiliar action.” There are two kinds of actions in Greek verbs. One is called punctiliar action which is represented as a point in time - here and it’s over. And then there is what is called linear action, which presents the actions in the verb as continuing. The incarnation is not punctiliar. It’s not God coming long ago, doing something, and leaving. It is about a “neighboring” that continues. That’s my translation for the verb in vs. 14 which literally means “tabernacled.” The Word became human and neighbors with us.
A wonder-watching God is flesh and blood.
In the movie Forrest Gump, the following exchange happens between the slow and lovable character Forrest and his former commanding officer, Lt. Dan, who lost both legs in the Vietnam War:
LT. DAN
Have you found Jesus yet, Gump?
FORREST
I didn't know I was supposed to be looking for him, sir.
LT. DAN
That's all these cripples, down at the V.A., that's all they ever talk about. Jesus this and Jesus that. Have I found Jesus?
The Gospel writer John would have liked that scene. Jesus was all he could ever talk about as well. John wrote:
In the beginning was the word (Logos), and the word was with God, and the word was God.
In the philosophy of John’s day the Greeks believed that the universe had a rational, moral order to it, and this “order” or principle was called the Logos or word. For the Greeks, the meaning of life was to contemplate and discern this order at work in the world, which would allow one to partake in a well-lived life.
So John is saying that there IS a goal or purpose for our lives – a Logos – but insists that the meaning of life is not a principle to discover or enlightenment to be acquired but a person – this baby born in a stable, laid in a manger, named Jesus. We could almost summarize John’s point as “Jesus this and Jesus that.”
THIS Jesus is the one who was God’s plan, we’re told, “the tender mercy of God.” THAT Jesus’ “kingdom,” the angel declares, “will have no end.” THIS Jesus is light and THAT Jesus will not be overcome by darkness. To “This Jesus,” we sing. And to “That Jesus,” we pray. I know that Forrest Gump is a movie and that Lieutenant Dan is complaining about Christians. But to be perfectly honest, the Christmas story, the good news of God’s love breaking into our world almost can’t be said better than “Jesus this and Jesus that.” Everything – John declares was made by him. The darkness cannot win, John says, because Jesus made the world. And if Jesus made the world then the universe isn’t a scary place and even when there’s darkness, hardship and pain, it is a place where God is ever at work and ever present. But Lt. Dan did get one thing wrong. You don’t have to find Jesus. Just let Jesus find you. Let Jesus neighbor you.
And friends, this church is just like “all those cripples, down at the V.A.” that Lieutenant Dan is mystified by. We’re not perfect. We don’t claim to be. But it’s nevertheless true that all we ever want to talk about is “Jesus this and Jesus that.” And doing so is slowly changing us, making us more forgiving, more loving, more concerned about the poor and racial injustice. This baby is saving us from our sins, from ourselves. That Jesus is Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Prince of Peace, which the world has been aching to receive! This baby is the one who God would send to make the world right. And that God was this baby.
Do you want to know who God is? Jesus this and Jesus that.
Do you want to discover what God thinks of you? Jesus this and Jesus that.
Do you want to embark on the adventure of a life-time with all of us cripples? Jesus this and Jesus that. If you want to know God. If you want to know what God wants. If you want to see what God does, wants to do, will do – look no farther than this flesh and blood Jesus.
Some years ago American Express ran a series of television commercials that featured celebrities or politicians like Jim Henson and Geraldine Farraro. The punch line for these commercials was, “Do you recognize me? A lot of people don’t. That’s why I carry an American Express card.” Jesus is that – God’s American Express card, I guess. He’s how we recognize God.
A wonder-watching God illustrates that grace is the truth.
Vs. 14 is probably one of the better verses in the Bible declaring that Jesus is full of “grace and truth.” Why do we pitch these two things against one another? Why do we imagine God to be schizophrenic if not duplicitous – graceful, supposedly, on the one hand, but willing to knock our teeth out with the truth. Or maybe that’s too strong. I hear it more when friends counsel, “Yes God loves you but . . .” And we’re left with the sinking feeling that the “but” is everything. The but becomes “so you better” because then God won’t. Friends, the God who orders the universe in Jesus, with Jesus, declares that grace is the truth. And the truth is – God from the very beginning longs to shine on you, to dwell with you, to love you. The truth is – God is not the problem. We are. We are the ones who want to refuse, John says.
The Benedictine nun Macrina Wiederkehr captures this sentiment about the truth of grace when she writes:
“Oh God help me to believe the truth about myself,
no matter how beautiful it is.”
Here’s the gracious truth – Jesus saves you because he made you. Don’t refuse to receive that. God loves you and wants to live with you – even if you’re a slobby roommate.
So be like the other John – bear witness to the light so that “all might believe.” How do you do that? All that you need to do is reflect the light. And let it shine.
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