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"Christmas: The Incarnation"
St. Mark’s Episcopal Church
December 25, 2009, Christmas Day
The Rev. Elizabeth Molitors
“And the Word became flesh and lived among us…”
-- John 1:14a
In 2001, author and journalist Bruce Feiler, published a book
called “Walking the Bible: A Journey through the Five
Books of Moses.” Feiler, who was raised a Jew, had lost
touch with the religious tradition of his youth and he decided
to try and reclaim that heritage by visiting all of the places
recounted in the Torah. He wanted, he says, to “understand”
the bible, to know whether the stories that it told were “real.”
Six years ago, Dan Brown wrote a book called the DaVinci Code.
This story, though a work of fiction, unnerved a good many people
with its references to Jesus and Mary Magdalene and the church.
In the wake of all the controversy that ensued after it was
published, numerous discussion groups sprang up and other books
were written, all of them dissecting and commenting on Mr. Brown’s
story, trying to discern what was “true” and “real”
about the life of Jesus.
And this time last year, the cover story of the December National
Geographic was titled “The Real King Herod – architect
of the Holy Land.” The article attempted to reconstruct
the true, historical image of one of the key figures in the
Christmas story: Herod, the king who sent the Wise Men in search
of the child Jesus; the king whose planned infanticide drove
Mary and Joseph to flee with Jesus to Egypt.
I mention these books and this article because they articulate
a desire that’s familiar to me, and maybe to you, too
– that desire to know, to understand, what is “true”
and “real,” especially on this Christmas Day, when
we share such an unfathomable story – what the 2nd century
theologian Irenaeus called “the scandal of the incarnation”
– “And the Word became flesh and lived among us.”
If we are looking to know, in a historical, factual, dot-your-i’s
and cross-your-t’s kind of way, what happened on that
Christmas Day more than 2000 years ago or if we’re looking
to understand definitively how it is that God humbled God’s
self to share in our humanity in the person of Jesus, the bible
may not be that much of a help to us. The four gospel accounts
vary widely in how they attend to the details of Jesus’
life and ministry; they present the kinds of inconsistencies
that make it almost impossible for post-Enlightenment, rational
thinkers to discern what might be thought of as “factual
truth.”
The writer of Mark, for instance, begins his account of Jesus’
life not with Jesus, but with a description of John the Baptist;
when Jesus appears in the story, it is as an adult, being baptized
by John. No birth narrative, no language about Incarnation.
The gospel according to Matthew speaks to Jesus’ lineage,
presenting a genealogy (which actually traces back Joseph’s
family) and then moves on to tell of the angel’s appearance
to Joseph, who convinces him to proceed with his plans to take
Mary as his wife.
John’s gospel, which we read today, offers a genealogy
of a different sort, linking Jesus not to his human ancestry,
but to his divine heritage.
It’s only the author of Luke who paints in words what
has become to us a familiar picture, the scene that we think
of as ‘Christmas’ – the reading that Linus
does in the Peanuts’ Christmas special – “For,
behold, I bring you tidings of great Joy, which shall be to
all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David
a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”
While I understand the longing for some sort of objective certainty
about this remarkable matter of God-become-human, I think a
quest for certainty is ultimately unsatisfying, since it can
tell only part of any story.
When we focus our attention only on the ‘what’
and ‘how’ of the story of the incarnation and birth
of Jesus, we miss seeing the “why” – the larger
reality. Every part of the bible, from Genesis’ “In
the beginning” to Revelation’s final “Amen,”
every part is a testament to love and relationship, the ever-unfolding
story of God working with and acting with and responding to
us, God’s beloved daughters and sons. Regardless of how
it happened, could there be any clearer sign that God longs
to be in relationship with us than by becoming flesh and dwelling
among us?
If scripture is a story about love and relationship, then
the Incarnation is not just about who Jesus was, but about who
we are. The Incarnation becomes a powerful reminder of the fact
that not only was God made into our image, but that we are created
in God’s.
If we use only our rational thought – that part of the
brain that craves factual truth – I think that we’re
going to find those are tough concepts to wrap our heads around:
Almighty God, omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent God, made
into a finite, limited human being? Humanity, flawed and broken,
is created in the image of God?
To grasp those ideas, I think we need to forget about rational
thinking, and instead exercise our imagination and intuition.
To engage that part of ourselves that understands that there
is truth in parable and myth, in art and music, truth that is
deeper and richer than the truth in scientifically verifiable
facts and confirmed dates.
A couple of years ago, I visited Washington D.C. during the
month of December, and planned a visit to the National Cathedral.
Wandering through some of the little side altars and ante-rooms,
I came across an exhibit of Nativity sets, dozens of them, from
all around the world. There were sets made of exotic and expensive
materials like jade and ivory, while others were made of much
humbler material, like cloth and clay. I remember one set that
was shaped from the aluminum of a red-and-white Coca-Cola can.
For all of our culture’s reverence of historical accuracy
and verifiable facts, no one looking at this exhibit expected
that these Nativity scenes would portray what Mary and Joseph
and Jesus would have looked like in 1st century Palestine. Each
set reflected instead the culture, the dress and the surroundings
that were familiar to the artist who created the characters.
But these were no mere decorations, not simply ornaments or
curiosities, but expressions of a theological truth that God
became human in the person of Jesus, and dwells within each
of us.
“The Word became flesh and lived among us…”
Understanding and probing into questions – of how and
when this happened? and what does it all mean? and for what
ultimate purpose? – those can be tomorrow’s questions.
Today, let us awaken our intuition and imagination, and delight
in the mystery and the scandal of the Incarnation, God-with-us.
Amen.
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