Tagged: Incarnation

God Changes

34 The Lord said to Moses, “Cut two tablets of stone like the former ones, and I will write on the tablets the words that were on the former tablets, which you broke. Be ready in the morning and come up in the morning to Mount Sinai and present yourself there to me on the top of the mountain. No one shall come up with you, and do not let anyone be seen throughout all the mountain, and do not let flocks or herds graze in front of that mountain.” So Moses cut two tablets of stone like the former ones, and he rose early in the morning and went up on Mount Sinai, as the Lord had commanded him, and took in his hand the two tablets of stone. The Lord descended in the cloud and stood with him there and proclaimed the name, “The Lord.” The Lord passed before him and proclaimed,

“The Lord, the Lord,
a God merciful and gracious,
slow to anger,
and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness,
keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation,
forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin,
yet by no means clearing the guilty,
but visiting the iniquity of the parents
upon the children
and the children’s children
to the third and the fourth generation.”

And Moses quickly bowed down to the ground and worshiped. He said, “If now I have found favor in your sight, my Lord, I pray, let my Lord go with us. Although this is a stiff-necked people, pardon our iniquity and our sin, and take us for your inheritance.” (Ex. 34:1-8)

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14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. 15 (John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ ”) 16 From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. 17 The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God. It is the only Son, himself God, who[f] is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known. (John 1:14-18)

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I read two passages for you. You are probably wondering: “Two passages? Does this mean this sermon is twice as biblical?” And the answer is obviously yes.

The first passage is in the book of Exodus. In this ancient story, God ransoms the people out of slavery in Egypt with the wonders of the ten plagues, humiliating the tyrant, Pharaoh. God brings the people out to the wilderness, crossing the Red Sea. He brings Moses up the mountain of Sinai to reveal his law to Moses, writing it on stone tablets.  While Moses is up the mountain, however, the people get Aaron to fashion them an idol, the very thing God was liberating them from. Moses hears the people worshipping this idol and carrying on, and he goes down, and he is so angry that he throws the stone tablets with the commandments on them at the idol. God’s anger burns against the people, and many die that day. In the aftermath of all this, despite the people betraying God, God relents from his anger, shows mercy, and Moses has to go back up the mountain to fashion new tablets.

There, God comes before Moses in the presence of a cloud. God passes before Moses and God reveals the full meaning of God’s name: merciful, gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. These qualities, if you do a search through the whole Old Testament, keep coming up. God is praised in the Psalms for having these qualities. One writer suggested that these qualities almost function like the creed of the Old Testament. They form really an essential summary for who God is.

But what about those other qualities at the end? God visits the iniquity of the parents upon their children and on their children’s children to the third and fourth generation? People wonder about that. That does not sound particularly loving and gracious.

If a person announced to you that they were a very gracious person, and also casually mentioned they make a point of punishing a person’s kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids for something wrong they did, you probably, let’s say, have the opposite view in mind: this person seems quite vengeful. So, what is going on here? Hold that thought.

The second passage is, of course, in the New Testament. It is the end of the first section of the first chapter of the Gospel of John. As many of you know, John begins with, “In the beginning was the word and the word was with God and the word was God.” John is beginning us off here with an explanation of Jesus as the very revelation of God, God himself, in human flesh. Jesus is the fulfillment of the word, the commandments, the prophecies, the revelations—all of it—in himself.

These two passages, put right next to each other, should raise questions: For instance, what do you mean that the law was given through Moses but grace and truth in Jesus? I did a comparison, and it is interesting that some translations don’t include the word “but” there. They merely read, “the law was given through Moses, grace and truth in Jesus.” However, the word is in Greek. The law was given through Moses, but grace and truth through Jesus. Is John saying that things that occur in the first passage are not true or gracious? Is John contradicting the book of Exodus?

Second question: what does John mean by “no one has ever seen God”? What about Moses here, or Abraham, or Jacob, or Isaiah, or Ezekiel, and so on. Again, what is going on here with John? Is John contradicting these other stories? What is John trying to say? Again, hold that thought.

Last week, I pointed out that when we look at the story of Jesus and his disciples picking grain on the Sabbath in Mark 2, what we take to be something rather obvious and commonplace in our culture actually has a revolutionary point: Jesus allows the disciples to transgress the letter of this deeply important law—it was one of the ten commandments, remember—and the reason why is simply that the “sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the sabbath,” Jesus says. The reason he gives is intended to transform how we see the laws of the Bible, which we so often take to be austere and exacting. Yet, here Jesus takes one of the most important commands of the Old Testament, one of the most essential commands about showing devotion to God, and says, actually, the point of it is not to satisfy God; it is to help people. That’s the point.

Jesus is teaching us how to read the Bible in a new way. And this is in keeping with how the whole New Testament shows that the law is to be read through the law of love, discerning the fruit of the Spirit, as the Apostle Paul says. God wants us to follow him and obey him, yes, but God wants us to follow him in the way Jesus shows us, and this Jesus-way of living out the commands of God is radical, so much so, in fact, it got Jesus in a lot of trouble: The great tragic irony of the Gospels is the one who is the logos of God, word made flesh, was executed as a lawbreaker.

Well, I thought about what to preach on this week. I want to follow this up with a similar, perhaps even more radical thought: What if we not only have a Jesus-centred way of following God, but also a Jesus-centred way of understanding God?

Does God Change?

Again, much like our story about picking grain on the Sabbath, much of this might sound somewhat obvious….until it isn’t.

I remember sitting down with someone for a pastoral chat a few years ago. They had recently been diagnosed with a serious illness. I asked what this meant for their walk with God.

Now, often when I ask this, folks respond with saying they have seen God in the love of their family and friends coming around them or they have been reminded in prayer or their daily reminiscing that God loves them. That sort of thing.

The person responded: “God caused this illness. God is punishing me.”

“Oh. Okay,” I said, “Well, why do you think that?”

The person proceeded to rhyme off a number of scriptures. There are stories of God punishing folks with plagues. There are passages in Deuteronomy that those that follow God’s ways will be struck with illness, and that those that do follow God’s ways will be granted health and a full life. The person had done their homework.

The person confessed to me the sins they committed, which they felt must be the cause of this punishment.

Of course, I tried to protest this. But, I remember walking away from that conversation a little bit concerned how quickly this person could chapter and verse a view of God where God causes all tragedies, punishing people every chance he gets.

 What I tried to say back then, before I left, was simply: everything you said is technically true. There are those Bible passages and stories, yes, but when I look at Jesus, I have a hard time believing your illness is because God is up in heaven and he has run out of patience for you. I just don’t see it.

After all: nowhere in the Gospels does Jesus ever inflict anyone with an illness. Jesus, the embodiment and bearer of God’s restored rule only heals. That does not mean God stops being angry at wrongdoing or that wrong actions no longer have consequences or that God stops working in mysterious ways, but when we look at Jesus, certain explanations for events in our lives just don’t seem as plausible.

The person turned back to me, skeptically, and he merely asked, “Are you trying to tell me God has changed?”

That question names the tension in the juxtaposition of these two scriptures I read for you.

Does God change?

Aslan Appears Bigger

When we were travelling this summer, while I was driving, I listened to some audiobooks. I got to finish a couple of novels by C.S. Lewis, namely his last book in the Space Trilogy, called A Hideous Strength. With that, I have actually read every novel that C. S. Lewis has written. So, I am kind of a fan.

Well, in the Chronicles of Narnia, books I have read to my boys, there is an interesting moment in the book, Prince Caspian.

 If you know the book, or claim to have read the book but actually just watched the movie, the children from the second book, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, are magically recalled back to Narnia; what has been only a few years for them in our world has been many centuries in Narnia. Narnia lies in ruins, conquered, and Aslan, the magic Lion who is the Christ figure of the novels, has not been seen in many centuries. Many have given up believing in him.

However, Lucy, the youngest, keeps insisting that Aslan is near. Her childlike faith lets her feel him near when no one else does. She has glimpses of him, and no one believes her. Finally, Aslan appears in full. Lucy looks at him and says,

“Aslan…you’re bigger”. (Imagine me saying that in a British accent, which makes it sound so much more pleasant).

Aslan responds (this time imagine Liam Neeson voice) “That is because you are older, little one”
“It’s not because you are?” Lucy puzzles.
“I am not.” Says Aslan,  “But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

Aslan is still the same, but as we grow, he appears to grow as well.

God does not change (or let me suggest that God is beyond what we understand “change” to be), but our understanding changes.

Saint Gregory of Nazianzus once asked why didn’t God just reveal that God was a Trinity right off the bat, right from the get-go? Like right at the Burning Bush: God could have said, “I am who I am, and by the way, let me save you a lot of ink and also say I am Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one nature, three persons.” Why did he not do that?

And he answers, perhaps God reveals himself little by little because God really is loving, patiently teaching us enough about himself each step of the way then a little bit more when we are ready: first the Father, then God reveals the Son, then God reveals the Spirit. It is only after these do we really understand how God is perfect love.

This movement in Scripture then is not a scandal or contradiction; it showcases who God is in the way God was pleased to reveal Godself: gently, patiently.

Not Marcionism, Not Biblicism

Notice what I am not saying: God does not become someone completely different. Aslan did not all of a sudden become a hippo or something.

There was a heresy in the early church called Marcionism (here is your theology lecture for the morning). Marcion was a teacher that looked at this movement and concluded that clearly the difference between depictions of God in the Old Testament and depictions of God in the New Testament is a matter of two essentially different Gods: Old Testament God, evil, New Testament God, good.

And folks in the early church said that this is an error (that’s what heresy means by the way). Sadly, we often do something similar when we write off the Old Testament. I knew one person who only read the New Testament because they believed there was no grace in the Old Testament. That is absolutely not the case, and if you think that you are missing out.

God does not change, but our understanding of him does change.

It is not that all passages of the Bible are all on the same footing, nor is it the idea that God is the Old Testament is bad and in the New Testament he got better.

So, what is it?

The Bible’s Fulfillment in Jesus

Well, maybe the most helpful way to put it is in the New Testament’s own words.

The author of the letter to the Hebrews says, “Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being”

Ten chapters later in Hebrews, the author puts it this way: “The law is only a shadow of the good things that are coming—not the realities themselves.”

1 John 1 puts it this way, “We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life— this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us.”

Paul in the letter to the Colossians says, “Jesus is the visible image of the invisible God.”

All of this might help us understand why John say something as striking as this in the Gospel of John: No one has ever seen God. It is the only Son, himself God, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.”

There are revelations of God in the Old Testament that are fulfilled in Jesus, and what this means is that compared to the fact that the disciples could sit and eat and converse with and touch Jesus, God in the flesh, it’s like no one had ever seen God up to now, certainly not with that level of vivid clarity. It’s like that the whole Old Testament is a shadow of the person, and now we have the reality before us.

The difference between the Old Testament and New Testament is not Old Testament God bad and New Testament good; it is more like, as Saint Augustine put it, Old Testament hidden and veiled, New Testament revealed.

When I was growing up we ate a lot of cereal for breakfast. My personal favourite was Golden Grahams. Lucky Charms was a close second. Anyways, they always had some kind of toy inside or activity on the back. One of these was you had to rip the box open and find a lens inside and you would take that lens and look at the picture on the box to find a coded message. The lens filtered the colours on the box so that the message would become clear. Do you remember these?  I am running a few minutes late; my previous meeting is running over.

Jesus is the lens that makes the whole Bible clear. (I will also accept that Jesus is the toy in the cereal box of life).

The Bible is a movement, from Genesis to Jesus, of God teaching us about himself, moving step by step from less clear to more clear, and Jesus finally provides that definitive moment where it all comes into focus.

Sometimes this movement looks very straightforward and consistent. In other matters, we see a movement or development. If you look at teachings on war, slavery, treatment of women, and so on, you will see a progressive movement from the law to the wisdom books and the prophets of God teaching his people to treat people more justly (that’s a sermon for another day). And then you see how these land in Jesus: the one who loves his enemies, liberates and lifts the lowly up. God is always just, but this notion of justice gets more and more focused, clearer and clearer.

Or think about this movement like the change from seed to blossom.

Back to Thinking about Punishment

Well, the same goes for how the Bible understands punishment, the question that we began with. Have you been holding that thought?

Exodus 34, the passage we read at the beginning has a notion that remains fairly consistent throughout the whole Old Testament: God’s character is the same; God is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.

Yet is says God punishes to the third and fourth generation.

Is this a different God than Jesus? Does God change? No, but this revelation is not as clear.

If you keep reading in the Bible, you eventually come to a later Prophet named Ezekiel. Ezekiel prophesies that judgment is coming. The sins of the people, generation after generation, have added up. So, the people ask, “What can we do then? Is punishment inevitable because of what our forefathers have done?” That’s how they took that.

Ezekiel gives a resounding, “No.” Ezekiel 18 says, “Suppose [a wicked man] has a son who sees all the sins his father commits, and though he sees them, he does not do such things… He will not die for his father’s sin; he will surely live.” Then Ezekiel goes further. “Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign Lord. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?” The passage ends with God simply reminding the people that God does not punish people for the sins of others. God is not like that: “The Lord is just.”

That’s fascinating, because that kind of sounds like God no longer punishes to the third and fourth generation. Not anymore, or, in fact, he never did. Perhaps the people of God heard something that made sense at the time, but they learned and grew by God’s grace till they were ready for the next step.

But the movement of us learning about God’s justice is getting clearer in Ezekiel comes into perfect focus in Jesus.

Fast forward and what do we see in the Gospels?

In John chapter 9, Jesus encounters a man who is born blind. His disciples ask, who sinned that he should be blind, was it him or was it his parents? Jesus answers saying that no one sinned. His blindness is merely the occasion that God is going to do something good. And Jesus heals him.

Are sick people sick because they have sinned or because their parents sinned? Is God the kind of God that goes around inflicting tragedy on people? Does God cause evil? Or is seeing someone sick merely an opportunity to help them the way Jesus did?

Is suffering the occasion to blame or to have compassion?

Is God the source of the world’s suffering or is God the solution?

Does Jesus cause evil or does Jesus save us from evil?

Does God break his own rules like do not lie or do not murder or is God the Word, the law of God, made flesh, sinless and perfect?

Or to put it another way: is God fully revealed in Jesus? Is God like Jesus? Is Jesus God? Is God then Christlike?

When we look at Jesus and see that God is definitively revealed in Jesus, then it all becomes clear.

Jesus, who is God incarnate, God with us, God Immanuel.

Jesus, who died on a cross as an act of serving sinful humanity.

Jesus, who rose from the dead, victorious, overturning death and evil.

When we look at Jesus we see that God is not far off, away from us. God is beside us. God loves us so much God would endure being executed for our sake. God loves us so fully and wholly, loving us more than his own body and blood—his very life—that God gladly bears the curse of sin and death itself in order to give us life. And so, when we look at Jesus, we see that God is faithful to his promises. God empties the grave. God loves in such a way that evil will not have the final word in this world.

Here, in Jesus, God is made fully clear. If we don’t read our scriptures with Jesus at the centre, we will miss the point.

Sadly, it has taken us humans a few thousand years to learn these truths, and God has been patient with us. However, the truth is, many of us still are not ready.

Does God cause evil?

Does God cause tsunamis and forest fires and global pandemics?

Does God love some people more than others?

Does God take sides in war? Does God approve of slaughtering or oppressing our enemies?

Does God reject people because of where they are born or how they were born?

Does God approve of the domination of women?

Does God approve of slavery?

Does God approve of torture?

Each of these questions might seem to many of us to be an obvious no, but I have seen Christians defend each of these, and they did so with a trusty proof text, cited chapter and verse.

As I said last week, it is entirely possible people can use the Bible in ways that are fundamentally unChrist-like. The same goes for its portraits of God. Take a few passages, take them out of context, ignore the whole sweep of the Biblical narrative, ignore the wisdom of church tradition and discerning leaders and teachers today, and you can portray the God of the Bible in all minds of monstrous ways.

Does our notion of God need to change? You see, if Jesus shows the very heart of God, if love is the essence of God, we are forced to un-deify the things we but in the place of God: power, control, violence, retribution.

Letting go of those things can be hard. Some can’t let go because then they believe they will have nothing left. I have too often seen believers cling to a God they can comprehend, even when that means God is profoundly toxic, rather than embrace the vulnerability of the mystery of love.

It is little wonder that the religious leaders felt they had to execute Jesus in order to preserve their religion.

The question I want to leave you with, Billtown Baptist Church, is how often have we been guilty of doing the same?

God does not change. God has always been Jesus. God has always been the love that Jesus shows in the incarnation, cross, and resurrection. But we need God to change us. We need a “God-change” in our hearts and minds.

The Why is Love: Advent and Incarnation

“All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).’” (Matt. 1: 22-23)

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)

“For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things…” (Col. 1:19-20a)

There is a movie by the Coen brothers called Hail, Caesar. The movie is, well, about a movie. A movie studio is filming a movie about the life of Christ through the eyes of a Roman soldier, played by George Clooney, who we find out gets kidnapped. I won’t ruin any more of the plot. If you have ever watched a Coen Brothers movie, you will know that it has witty, dark, dry humour.

And, in my humble opinion, one of the best scenes of the film is also, believe it or not, deeply theological. I think all the best scenes of every film are theological, but whatever.

In this film about a film, Josh Brolin plays the manager of the movie studio, who is shooting this film on the Christ. Brolin, whose character is named Eddie Mannix, knowing this film is going to be the biggest film of the year (think something like the old Ten Commandments or Ben Hur kind of movie), gives a copy of the script to a panel of religious experts: an Eastern Orthodox patriarch, a roman catholic priest, a protestant minister, and a rabbi.

And I know what you are thinking, what next, they all walk into a bar? Not quite.

Brolin’s character explains that this prestige picture is aiming to tell the story of the Christ powerfully and tastefully, so he wants to see if the story is up to snuff.

The Rabbi pipes up: “You do realize that for we Jews any depiction of the Godhead is strictly prohibited.”

Eddie looks at him, disappointed. He had not considered this.

But the Rabbi continues: “Of course, for we Jews, Jesus of Nazareth was not God.”

Eddie looks again, confused but also pleased. He reiterates again that he wants to make sure that the script is realistic and accurate and would not offend any American person’s religion.

The Patriarch blurts out, “I did not like the chariot race scene. I did not think it was realistic.”

Eddie again is confused.

The Priest jumps in: “It isn’t so simple to say that God is Christ or Christ God.”

The Rabbi agrees: “You can say that again, the Nazarene was not God.”

The Patriarch, waxing mystical for a moment, replies: “He is not not God.”

The Rabbi exclaims: “He was a man!”

“Part God also,” says the Protestant Minister.

“No, sir,” says the Rabbi.

To which Eddie turns, trying to smooth things over, but also clearly out of his element: “But Rabbi, don’t we all have a little God in all of us?”

The Priest jumps in again and finishes his thought: “It is not merely that Jesus is God, but he is the Son of God….”

Eddie is now confused: “So are you saying God is all split up?”

“Yes,” says the Priest, “and no,” suggesting it is a paradox.

Eddie is now deeply confused. “I don’t follow…”

The Rabbi interjects: “Young man, you don’t follow for a very simple reason: these men are screwballs! God has children? What, next a dog? A collie, maybe? God doesn’t have children. He’s a bachelor. And very angry!”

The Priest is upset: “He only used to be angry!”

Rabbi: “What, he got over it?”

The minister accuses the Rabbi: “You worship the god of another age!”

The Priest agrees: “Who has no love!”

 “Not true!” says the Rabbi, “He likes Jews!”

The minister continues: “No, God loves everyone!”

“God is love,” insists the Priest.

The Patriarch jumps in: “God is who he is.”

Rabbi replies, upset: “This is special? Who isn’t who is?”

Everyone is getting frustrated with each other.

The Priest tries to bring the conversation back around: “But how should God be rendered in a motion picture?”

Rabbi exclaims, exasperated: “This is my whole point: God is not even in the motion picture!”

Eddie turns, sinking into his chair: “Gentlemen, maybe we’re biting off more than we can chew.”

Now, I probably did not do this scene justice. You will have to watch it yourselves. I showed it to my wife, who, for some reason, did not laugh as hard at it as I did.

Today, we light the love candle. It is the candle we light on the way to Christmas, where we celebrate the deepest mystery of our faith: the incarnation of Jesus. This Advent season, I have been reading a wonderful little Advent devotional compiled from the writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, called God in the Manger (I deeply recommend this to you for next year’s reading). Bonhoeffer was the German pastor who opposed Hitler, sought to organize the church against the power of the Nazis, and was executed, falsely accused of being a part of an assassination plot.  

For this week of Advent, the candle of love, the devotional turns to the question of incarnation, why and how is God with us in an infant, born in a stable? Why and how did God become flesh? Why and how was the fullness of deity pleased to dwell here, bodily? How is that possible?

The questions might evoke the same response as Eddie in Hail Caesar: “People, I think we have bitten off more than we can chew!”

Such ideas feel at best unanswerable: above our pay grade as humans. Or at worst illogical, prone to the endless arguing that the Rabbi, Priest, Minister, and Patriarch fell to.

How the Incarnation?

Yet, this question—how and why did God become human?—is the question that all of Christian faith rests on.

How and why did God become human? This week, we light the love candle, and I am going to suggest that incarnation and love—the two are inseparable.

Now, you might insist, that does not really answer the “how” question exactly.

Indeed, let me put the question this way: God is infinite, all-powerful, present to all things, everywhere, all knowing, transcendent, above and beyond all things—how can God be found in human form, let alone the form of a baby?

Put that way, it sounds like trying to fit the ocean into a shot glass. It does not seem like it can work.

Frederick Buechner once said: It feels like a vast joke that the creator of the universe could be found in diapers! He goes on to say, however, that for those of us raised in the church who have grown up with this idea, until we are scandalized by it, we can never take it seriously.

How can God come in human flesh?

As you can imagine, Christian thinkers have found this a bit difficult to answer. Some have said, well, maybe Jesus wasn’t fully human, he only appeared to be human—sort of like how Clark Kent is Superman and only appears to be a mild-mannered reporter. He appears human, but he is actually Kryptonian.

Others came around and suggested that maybe Jesus is not fully God. Perhaps he is like God or has a part of God’s presence in him, but God, the real God, is up in heaven, untarnished by the world, away and transcendent.

Others came around and said, maybe Jesus has the mind of God and the body of a man, or maybe Jesus had something more like a split personality: a divine person in him and a human person in him.

Again, you might be getting the feeling that we have bitten off more than we can chew.

Each of those answers, Christian tradition has found to have its problems. And the ongoing commitment Christians keep coming back to is that in all the ways God is God, Jesus is God. In all the ways humans are humans, Jesus is human, except without sin. Jesus has “two natures.” Well, that still does not answer the question. that still feels like the ocean in the shot glass problem.

Does that mean baby Jesus was omnipotent? Was a little infant, who cannot speak was also all-knowing, knowing about the paths of comets on the other side of the universe? That still sounds like one nature is swallowing up the other.

Bonhoeffer reflects on this problem, and he answers it this way: “Who is this God? This God became human as we became human. He is completely human. Therefore, nothing human is foreign to him. This human being that I am, Jesus was also. About this human being, Jesus Christ, we also say: this one is God. [But] this does not mean that we already know beforehand who God is.”

In other words, Bonhoeffer is trying to tell us that when we look at Jesus, he does not merely fulfill what we expect God to be like in the human Jesus, but he fundamentally redefines God, upsetting our assumption about what God must be like.

He writes, “Mighty God is the name of this Child [based on Isaiah 9:6]. The child in the manger is none other than God himself. Nothing greater can be said: God became a child. In the child of Mary lives the almighty God. [But] Wait a minute!… Here he is, poor like us, miserable and helpless like us, a person of flesh and blood like us, our brother. And yet, he is God…Where is the divinity, where is the might of this child?” Bonhoeffer answers, “In the divine love in which he became like us. His poverty in the manger is his might. In the might of love, he overcomes the chasm between God and humankind…”

How does God, the infinite, transcendent, all-powerful God, become a finite, vulnerable, human baby? The only answer we have is that God is love. Because God is love, God can be all that God needs and wants to be for us. God desires to be with us. So God can.

One church father, Gregory of Nyssa, put it this way: God’s true power is to be even things that God is not. For God to become a lowly and vulnerable human, this is not something that contradicts his power, but rather it is proof of his true power, the power of God’s love.

If we start thinking, you know what makes God a God? Power! If what we worship as God is something we understand as power first and foremost, we will forever see the life of Christ as a scandal. Worst still, we will also probably come dangerously close to worshiping human power as something “god-like” as well.

But if God is essentially love, perfect love is capable of drawing close to us in weakness and vulnerability, and that, ironically, is true power.  

That still leave my answer somewhat inadequate. I don’t understand all the mysteries of God. But love is the best clue we have.

Thankfully we don’t need to solve theological mysteries in order to trust them and to be saved by them.

Why the incarnation?

Now, if God was able to become human because of love, maybe we need to back the truck up for a second and ask, why? Why did God need to do this?

Afterall, God is portrayed as loving and gracious in the Old Testament. What does Jesus add to it, if we can call it that? Could God just keep telling us that he is love and that God loves us?

Let’s ask it this way: Why does love need a body?

Modern times cast humans as brains on sticks—the fact that many of us live and work barely moving our bodies as we type on computers can lead us to believe this.

We are told messages that we can surpass the limits of our bodies by sheer willpower; some of us, when we were younger, actually believed that. Then you get a sports injury, and next thing you know, your body aches for no reason, and you catch yourself groaning every time you bend over to tie your shoes. Our bodily’s limits catch up with us.

Some of us don’t particularly like our bodies. Our bodies represent our weaknesses, our vulnerabilities, our imperfections. Companies love preying upon our bodily insecurities to sell us more products. Buy this to fix your hair. Buy this to help lose weight. And so on.

Stanley Hauerwas, Professor at Duke University, wrote one of the great books on Christian medical ethics, called Suffering Presence. In it, he reflects on how medical ethics made him profoundly aware of the significance of our bodies.

He tells this one story of a nurse he interviewed. The nurse worked in a branch of the hospital that dealt with severe infections. Severe inflections have a way of making people hate their bodies. I remember one time in high school, I had a severe tissue infection in my forehead, and I woke up looking like a character from The Goonies. Let’s just say it took a few years for my self-esteem to recover.

Well, for some of these folks with severe infections—gangrenous, swollen infections—the nurse reported that often the people would just want their limbs amputated. Faced with the threat of severe infection, some patients quickly concluded their limbs, their bodies, are irredeemable.

What did she do to prevent that mentality? The nurse spoke about how, when she did her rounds, she would make a point of touching the person’s limbs, even if that strictly was not necessary. You can tell a person their limb is okay, but having a person touch their bodies, the nurses said, reminded them that they were worth saving.

Why did God take on human flesh? Why was the fullness of deity pleased to dwell bodily?

To remind us that our bodies are worth saving.

We can start to see why then that the church fought so much about all this theology about Jesus being fully God and fully human: if there was an element of our humanity that God was not apart of fully, not at one with fully, not able to be found there fully, then that part remained unredeemed. If Jesus is not anything less than fully God and fully human, God is not with us.

Because the Incarnation…

There is a hymn that goes like this:

Good is the flesh that the Word has become,
      Good is the birthing, the milk in the breast,
      Good is the feeding, caressing, and rest,
      Good is the body for knowing the world,
Good is the flesh that the Word has become.

Good is the body, from cradle to grave,
      Growing and ageing, arousing, impaired,
      Happy in clothing, or lovingly bared,
      Good is the pleasure of God in our flesh.
Good is the flesh that the Word has become.

Good is the pleasure of God in our flesh,
      Longing in all, as in Jesus, to dwell,
      Glad of embracing, and tasting, and smell,
      Good is the body, for good and for God,
Good is the flesh that the Word has become.

If you look at so many of the religions around the time of the church, you will see a startling fact: nearly all of them did not care about bodies.

Romans and Greeks often had a deeply tragic outlook on life.

Egyptians were obsessed with escaping this life into an afterlife.

Gnostics believed that if you were spiritual, it did not matter what you did with your body. In fact, salvation was found in escaping from your body. The body was evil.

Eating and bathing, sex and sleep, for many, these were fallen and evil things. Sadly, there are a lot of Christians who still have that mentality today: to be spiritual is in some way to disregard your body, get away from it. The body, for some, is at best an obstacle to be conquered and, worse, a thing to be ashamed of.

However, one reason why Christianity grew in the ancient world is that it rested on a revolutionary truth for people: If God became human, you matter. The incarnation says that God made the world very good. The goodness of creation is a part of what it means to have a body, the body God gives us, the body God is pleased to dwell in. Your life matters.

Because God took on flesh, because God was found in a body, there is nothing we experience that is meaningless to God.

Our hunger and needs, our frustrations and pleasures, our vulnerabilities and our strengths, our desires and dreams, our thoughts and emotions, every event, right down to every mundane moment, these all matter to God. God is found there.

What writer says the message of the incarnation means that “there is nothing so secular that it cannot be sacred” (Madeleine L’Engle).

Whether it is singing in church, answering emails at work, eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, or lying still at night: every moment can be the site where God meets with us. Every moment can be a place where we know God’s love finds us. Why? God came in Jesus, God Immanuel: God with us.

And because God took on flesh, we also know God will never let us go. No matter who we are or what we have done. God is on our side. Paul puts it this way:

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rom. 8:38-39)

How did God become human? Why did God become flesh? How do we know we have forgiveness and hope? This morning, we lit the love candle. In it, we have the foundation of our faith: Because God loves us so much, because God is love, God became one of us.

Let’s pray:

The Spirit without Prejudice and Justified Equality

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Now before faith came, we were imprisoned and guarded under the law until faith would be revealed. Therefore the law was our disciplinarian until Christ came, so that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer subject to a disciplinarian, for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise. My point is this: heirs, as long as they are minors, are no better than slaves, though they are the owners of all the property; but they remain under guardians and trustees until the date set by the father. So with us; while we were minors, we were enslaved to the elemental spirits of the world. but when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. And because you are children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God. (Galatians 3:23-4:7, NRSV)

The year is 1591 in Scotland, a women named Eufame MacLayne is pregnant with twins and goes into labour. The labour is difficult, physically and emotionally taxing. It is painful. So painful that she pleads with the midwifes for relief. Out of compassion, they give her a strong pain-relief drug. She delivers her babies.

This might seem like a reasonable thing, but in the 16th century it was illegal to use pain-medication for child-birth. The ecclesial authorities learn of this crime, and bring the young mother, still recuperating from child birth before a tribunal.

Her crime: trying to lessen God’s curse on women. God mandated in Genesis 3 that women, due to their sin of eating the fruit, should suffer during childbirth, and how dare Eufame MacLayne be so obsessed with her own freedom and bodily autonomy that she would absolve herself of God’s punishment on her gender.

The church tribunal deemed her guilty. Her punishment was no mere parking ticket: She was burned at the stake. Let that sink in for a second.

Genesis 3 the woman’s pain in child bearing is increased, and this is a sign of the fallenness of our existence. The church in the 1600’s deemed it their duty to enforce the curse, to enforce our fallenness, to enforce the consequences of sin. I find that tragically odd. One would think it is the church’s duty and pleasure to undo the curse. One would think!

Notice also in Genesis 3 that as a result of the man and the woman choosing to go against God, turning in blame towards one another, our lives as gendered individuals are marred by competition, and sadly, but patriarchy: : “your desire will be for your husband, but he will rule over you.” The companionship of one flesh in Genesis 2 is sundered into the barriers of sin: rather than mutuality, hierarchy, rather than reciprocity, domination.

Sadly, many churches to this day deem it their duty, much like the church did to Eufame MacLayne’s day, to enforce the curse, setting up barriers to women in ministry, refusing to recognize women in leadership, whether in the home or church or in business or in educational institutions.

The year is 1860, America stands on the brink of civil war between North and South, largely over the issue of slavery. The Baptist Convention, for those who were listening in Dr. Maxwell’s classes, has already broke asunder, as the North barred Southern Baptist slave-owning candidates for missionary work. Southern Baptist preachers defended the right to own slaves as biblical, and moreover, the right to own black slaves for they are dark skinned and therefore under the curse of Ham. Once again, it is the church’s duty it felt apparently to enforce the consequences of sin, rather than undo them.

The North, lead by Baptists like Francis Wayland, argued scripture must be read through one’s conscience, which deems it unconscionable to own another human being. The South saw this as liberalism. The Bible has slavery. “It says it, that settles it.”

The South, as history shows, looses the civil war, the slaves are freed, but in the wake of this defeat, many Southern leaders flow into the ranks of the KKK, and by night carry out brutal intimidation and lynchings, an estimated 5000 lynchings happened over the next decades.

We like to high-brow our American neighbours, but Halifax tells of its own injustices. In 1960, those who lived in Africville, had their homes and their church bulldozed, forcibly relocated so that the MacKay Bridge could be built.

In the name of economic progress, the land and homes of the marginalized are always a reasonable price.

The year is 2020 we are seeing this today, with the fight of the Wet’suwet’en over whether a pipeline can go over their land. If the Wet’suwet’en were White, would we be so eager to ignore their voice?

The dismissive mentality of many Canadians reflects an old habit of the colonizer who came empowered by the doctrine of discovery, that if explorers found a land not governed by Christian lords, it was their right and duty to take over that land to absorb it into Christendom.

It was their duty to re-culture the natives into Christian culture, the tragic folly of this is evident to us in the estimate 6000 children who dead in the squalor and abuse of the residential school system.

I want to tell you that these horrific things were done by godless people, by those that do not know the Bible. The reality is far more sobering: All these deeds were perpetrated by those who chapter and verse’d their injustice.

This truth makes this message all the more urgent today. It makes the work of your studies, of this college, work of organizations like Atlantic Society of Biblical Equality, the holy fellowship I see in this room, all the more necessary: The Bible must be read through the eyes of equality, which is the eyes lightened by the Holy Spirit.

1. We must read the Word of God with the Wind of God

This is a sermon that cannot stand alone for there is so many passages well-intending Christians have invoked to close down equality: Eph. 5, 1 Cor. 11 and 14, 1 Tim. 2. I can’t treat them here, and why I think there are strong reasons why they are often read out of context.

I would hope to impress upon you the necessity that we must read the Word of God with the Wind of God, Scripture by the Spirit: for “the letter of kills, but the Spirit gives life,” says Paul.

We must read the Word of God with the Wind of God. Words spoken without breath will be nothing but a mute whisper in this world.

Or as William Newton Clarke, one of the first Baptist theologians to consider biblical equality for women’s ordination, writes in his profound little memoir, 60 Years with the Bible, “I used to say the Bible closes me down to this, I now realize the Spirit of Scripture opens me up.” I would hope to impress this on you today.

Why? Because the Holy Spirit opened Paul up, in Damascus first, and then, here in Galatia.

As the early church expanded beyond Judea, the Apostles saw the Spirit’s reach exceed their grasp. The book of Acts shows the wonderful accounts of the Spirit disrupting and unsettling and spurring on and causing the church to reach out.

In Galatia we see Gentiles coming to faith in Jesus Christ and wanting to be apart of existing communities of Jewish Christians. But this created a problem: if Gentiles want to be apart of the people of God, a group called the Judaizers insisted they have to become Jewish.

How do you become Jewish? By submitting yourself to the law, which begins in its epitome, circumcision.

As Markus Barth pointed out, circumcision was the church’s first race issue. Here a religious command becomes a racial issue. Jew: circumcised therefore clean; Gentiles: uncircumcised therefore unclean.

How did the Spirit open up Paul? He realized that the Spirit is without prejudice.

2. Because the Spirit is without prejudice, we are justified by our faith

“Did you receive the Spirit by doing the works of the law or by believing what you heard?” Did you do something to make God love you or did God love you and you just had to trust it?

Gentiles who were not circumcised, who were not setting out to live out all 613 some-odd laws of the OT, or to becomes Jews by circumcision, never the less, had the Spirit come upon them.

One should note, Paul does not have a problem with obeying what God has commanded here. People forget that Paul actually tells Timothy to get circumcised in order to be a more effective minister to his Jewish brethren. 1 Tim. 1:8 says, “we know that the law is good, if one uses it legitimately.” Obedience is not the problem, using the Bible to justify inequality is.

If you are obeying the letter of the law in such away as to delude yourself that this is why God favours you and why you are better than others, why it reinforcers your privilege and superiority against another, you have made the law do something it was never intended to do. And that is what the Judaizers were doing.

Paul responds, “no one is justified before God by the law, the just will live by faith.” He is quoting the Old Testament here. That is what the law is supposed to remind us of. Trust God’s mercy; trust what his Spirit is doing.

That is what qualifies us to be the people of God. This is what makes you a child of God. Period.

Paul then does something profound. Just as Jesus transgresses the letter to fulfill it spirit, Paul says, if that is how you are going to use circumcision. I’m ending it. It’s done.

We often fail to appreciate just how radical this is.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said that “The Pauline question whether circumcision is a condition of justification seems to me in present day terms to be whether religion is a condition of salvation.” That is how radical, progressive, and revolutionary Paul was being.

Circumcision is considered the eternal ordinance in Genesis. But I it got in the way of knowing Jesus. If it got in the way of God’s love. It got in the way of what the Spirit was doing. Well, circumcision just didn’t make the cut no pun intended.

Paul called into question the very centre of his Jewish religion in the name of the love of Jesus Christ. Brothers and sisters, we have to ask ourselves, are we going to follow the Spirit, even if that means forsaking our religion too? I hope so.

3. Because we are justified by the unprejudiced Spirit, we must remove all barriers to equality

At the apex of the epistle to the Galatians, he offers this powerful manifesto: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.”

Jews and Gentiles are equal in Christ, therefore the physical restriction of circumcision, dividing the two, was removed in the name of what the Spirit was doing.

In Galatians the act of the Spirit is without prejudice in bestowing the gift of salvation, by it we cry out “Abba Father.” In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul lists the same manifesto before listing the gifts of salvation. Verse 12:

For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit….

Jump down to verse 28 where he lists the result of drinking of the one Spirit: And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers; then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues.

Notice that apostleship is in this list, notice that leadership is in this list. If the Spirit is without prejudice in bestowing the gift of salvation, by this same logic the Spirit is without prejudice in giving the gifts of salvation.

Equality of the gift and gifts is part and parcel with the logic of justification by faith. You can’t have one without the other. Because we trust that the Spirit has brought us Gentiles into the people of God, we can’t help but trust the Spirit also calls anyone, regardless of race, gender, or status, to lead his church. You can’t have equality without justification, and you can’t have justification without equality. Gift and gifts are one as the body of Christ is meant to be one.

It would be a gross error in judgment to think that just because Paul is working within society with slavery that Paul is not trying to subvert slavery.

It would be an equally gross error in judgment to think that just because Paul is working within a culture that saw women as subordinate, that his writings are not trying to gently subvert this either.

The church has not done well to notice this, but the Spirit is without prejudice, we are justified in equality, and that is why the physical barriers to this new humanity must come down.

Interpreters from Martin Luther to recent commentators like Ronald Fung have been content to say that this manifesto only pertains to spiritual equality. In faith, slave and free people are spiritually equal, despite one owning the other; men and women are spiritually equal, despite women being subordinate to men. In the words, the barriers to equality in our bodies don’t matter. In other words, dualism.

This does not take into account the bodily nature of circumcision. And if you don’t feel like circumcision has something to do with bodily equality, men, you just have to ask yourself: if a church expected you to be circumcised in order to be a member, imagine if they said that in the bulletin, would you really feel welcomed? The issue of equality is very much a bodily matter.

Women’s equality, racial equality, economic equality, they are all very different and need to be addressed in very different ways, and yet they are connected. We cannot have equality from one without equality for another. Why? We are all human. We did not choose the skin we are in.

I have no control over the circumstances of my birth: I could have been born female; I could have been born native or black; I could have been born in a country ravaged by corruption; I could have been born with a developmental disability or a severe mental illness. Let me push you further: I could have been born with XXY chromosome syndrome and fallen outside the gender binary. I could have been born with testosterone deficiency, and thus been bodily female yet a chromosomal male. That is exceedingly rare and our political discourses have surely marred this discussion, but the fact remains: I did not choose the skin I am in.

If that is the case, with the social barriers out there today, the stereotypes, we must all ask ourselves, if this could have been me, how would I want to be treated? Equality must be our guiding principle, empathy and conscience must guide our interpretation, because Paul says later in Galatians, the whole law is summarized in one command: “Love your neighbour as yourself.”

And if we don’t, as Desmond Tutu once said, “If I diminish you, I diminish myself.” Because I could have been you. “We are a lot more alike than we are different” (Charlie Taylor).

Some see bodily differences as the reason for social barriers, the Bible sees our bodily differences as what necessitates the hard work of physical equality. Our physical differences are what makes the equality of the new humanity all the more beautiful.

4. The cost of equality is worth it

About ten years ago I was pastoring in another Baptist denomination that was founded in part by the rejection of women in ministry. I found myself in seminary zealously against women in ministry. Back before this in seminary, my first year of bible college, I wrote a paper why the egalitarian professor at my Bible college, Dr. Bill Webb, should be fired for his liberalism. A word to the wise, don’t ever write a paper about why your professor should be fired. My professor, a lady named Lisa Onbelet, very graciously asked me to rewrite this paper.

Yet, when I took Dr. Webb’s hermeneutics course, I found him able to give gentle, articulate answers about the scriptures I quoted at him, such that I found myself convinced. And this is good advice for anyone as we have these conversations: be gentle and be patient. Know your Scriptures.

Bill was eventually let go from his position, and we all knew it was due to his convictions.

When this happened, I knew that this would have consequences for me as I began to pastor. As I sat down with the leadership of the association I was apart of to discuss further funding for a church plant in the next town over, talk of ministry turned to talk of theology, and the leader wanted to know if I was in or was I out.

I could have remained silent, our first child, Rowan, had just been born. I was doing full-time doctoral studies, working 10 hours week as a TA, 10 hours a week as a soup-kitchen co-ordinator, 20 hours a week as a church planting intern. Meagan had gone back to school on her mat-leave to upgrade her teaching degree along with life-guarding in the evenings. We were barely scrapping by.

I could have stayed silent, but I knew that I couldn’t. I would not be able to live with myself if I denied my conscience and my convictions.

The association leader gave an ultimatum then: shut up and toe the party line or have your funding cut. I pleaded with this man for several hours over coffee to no avail.

“Why can we not centre our denomination’s unity and how we do the Gospel on something like the Trinity, who God is?” I insisted. His response, which I had to write down because I couldn’t believe it, he said, “No, Spencer, gender roles is more important to the Gospel than the Trinity.” For many Christians that is the case.

That night I said to Meagan I am going to have to fire up my resume and leave the denominational family my grandfather, Fritz Boersma, was a founding pastor. After dozens of resumes were sent out and no call-back, no church wanting to hire a doctoral student, but finally First Baptist Church of Sudbury called.

In hindsight this was a small cost in the end compared to women I knew that studied at this Bible college to realize no church would ever take a chance on them no matter how talented or passionate or godly they were.

There is still work to be done. I just got a message from a woman wishing me luck and she mentioned she was speaking with her church about why they can have women pastors. I realize I will never have to do this. I will never have to justify my profession or my vocation because of my gender. That is precisely why I am saying this now.

But it was a wonderful experience pastoring a church that had long supported women in leadership, cultivating a thoughtful open-minded community, but also I can tell you that while our denomination or congregations as a whole upholds equality in principle, it still has a long way to go in practice.

Whether it is women’s ordination or reciprocity in marriage, racial justice, indigenous reconciliation, hospitality to refugees, dignity rather than disgust for sexual minorities, or seeking to treat those who face poverty with the material support a person made in God’s image deserves, each one of these were weekly struggles in pastoring.

With every new face around the church came the question of what toxic, half-baked, youtube-google-searched theology are they bringing in with them. Many I found have built their entire faith on staying safe. Many love justifying social barriers with scriptures. Many Christians love treating the New Testament as the second Old Testament, shall we say.

There is that option pastoring and in preaching when you know a sermon illustration that the text calls for will upset important members of the church who are set in their ways and each month you know the church’s budget is holding on by the skin of its teeth, it is easy to just not talk about these matters and offer people a comfortable, spiritualized Gospel.

I was pleased and humbled to have First Baptist Sudbury grow well in my five years there, but I know it also came with one sermon after another where so-and-so wasn’t there the next week, all to find out that they didn’t like being “pushed on those issues,” and eventually “moved on” to the next church in town.

I also found pastoring that just as many women were opposed to equality as men were. For some, the notion of being restricted meant they don’t have to be responsible and don’t have to worry. The idea that God might call them to something more risky and vulnerable and messy, well, subordination meant safety.

After all, the Israelites wanted to go back to Egypt, didn’t they?

Proclaiming God’s word will cost us. It will cost us in a culture that has fractured into tribes of self-interest. It will cost us pastors even more as we pastor churches that have too often created cultures that cater.

I worry that there are many that want to ignore this conversation on equality let alone our duty to uphold it. And from a worldly perspective, why should I as a Western, English-speaking, white, straight, middle-class, male be asked to give up something for people I don’t know? One might say, “White privilege? Life is hard for me too you know!” If freedom is the point of rights, why would I give up my freedom for another’s rights?

But for Paul, this is not his line of thinking, and it can’t be ours. His equality is founded on the God who took on our flesh, “born of a women, born under the law.” A God who gave up his freedom so that we could be free.

We are equal because the barrier of heaven and earth was broken, because the king became a slave, because the holy one took on our curse, the blessed one took on our cross, because the righteous one became sin, because the first became last, because God removed every barrier between God and sinner with his very body, so that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come… nor anything else in all creation, can to separate us from the love of God; because of this, we are one, we are free, we are saved, we are blessed, we are counted as God’s people, considered God’s children, inheritors of the kingdom of heaven itself. Living this out is our equality.

God bore the cross so we could be free, and now we must bear our crosses so that others can know this freedom.

Equality will cost us, but I also know there is so much more to be gained, when we see churches that embrace all the gifting of the Spirit regardless of race, gender, or status. This is when the kingdom shines through the beautiful mosaic of Christ’s body all the clearer. The cost is worth it.

Because the kingdom is Paul’s equality, he is able to say, I am willing to endure hardship, hunger, persecution, peril, even the sword, to make this equality possible for another, especially those whom this world as forgotten. He is able to say, for him living is for Christ and to die was gain. The cost is worth it.

May we die to self today, and may we embrace new life in Christ.

May it be the case for us today and hereafter.

Let’s pray. [Given the topic of this sermon, I am going to take a different form then the normative pattern of prayer to the Father in the name of Jesus, and actually, pray to the Holy Spirit as the Book of Revelation does]

Holy Spirit, Spirit of Christ addressing us now, Sophia-wisdom of the Father before all creation.

You hover over the deep of our soul with a creativity that formed the heavens and earth.

In you we live and move and have our being. We sense you in our midst; we feel you groan with sighs too deep for words over the state of our broken world.

Forgive us for neglecting you. You are the Spirit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. You make the equality and freedom we seek possible.

Forgive us for the ways we have refused to see the image of God in another. Be with the marginalized of this world. Give eyes to see them and ears to hear them.

Be with our female pastors, who face barriers our male pastors do not. Be with our pastors that work for racial equality, indigenous reconciliation and care for those in poverty. Call us all to work for equality in all forms, even if it costs us. No cost compares to the riches of your kingdom.

We thank you that by your love we are justified, by you we cry out “Abba Father!” Teach anew to read scripture with your refreshing breath; breathe upon us the fire of Pentecost to speak your Gospel to the cacophony of this world.

But remind us that the same gentle presence we sense here as we sing is the same that raised our saviour Jesus Christ from the grave. May we never forget it.

By you one day the earth will be filled with the glory of God as water over the sea, by you every knee will bow and tongue confess Christ is Lord in heaven and on earth and under the earth, by you, God in Holy Trinity, will be all in all.

Come, Holy Spirit, Come. We thirst for you.

In Jesus name, amen.

The First Christmas: An Unbelievable Story about our Unbelievable God

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The Adoration of the Shepherds by Guido Reni (c 1640)

We have all heard the Christmas story before.

The Christmas story is the story of a baby born miraculously and mysteriously to a virgin mother.

About a nobody girl named Mary, who saw the announcement that she would be the mother of the messiah to be the greatest privilege of her life, despite its meaning she would be ostracized perhaps the rest of her life, since she was not married

It is the story about a good and merciful man, named joseph, who when he heard that his fiancé was pregnant and he was not the father, he could have subjected her to disgrace and even had her stoned in the culture, but moved with compassion, simple was going to dissolve the marriage quietly.

A man that was reassured by an angel to marry the woman, and that he would be the legal father of the savior of the world.

It is a story set to the back drop of God’s people conquered and oppressed by a massive empire, ruled a tyranny Emperor who claimed himself to be the Son of God.

It about this little unlikely family having to travel miles through storm and sand to the town of Bethlehem to be counted by order of the Emperor Augustus.

It is a story about this family who upon returning to their own hometown found that no one wanted to give them shelter for the night. No family wanted them.

It is a story about the king of heaven being born in the muck and mire of a barn.

It is a story about good news announced by angelic hosts to lowly shepherds, forgotten in the wilderness, tending their sheep.

It is a story about wisemen following stars, fooling a local corrupt ruler and coming to worship the messiah child with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

It is a story about an escape in the night as Herod sent out guards to kill the children of Jesus’ age, trying to stop the potential usurper.

And so, this is a story about miracles and the messiah, about faithful servants and faithful spouses, unplanned pregnancies and ancient prophecies; it is about shepherds and tyrants, about journey and escape, about humility and royalty, oppression and hope.

This story is the first Christmas. It is the story. It is the most important story. It is the story of all our salvation. Our salvation began to be accomplished in history on that day, in that stable, in that dirty manger, to that poor Middle-eastern couple, two thousand years ago.

It is the truth that God is now with us: the incarnation. The infinite God dwelling with us mortals.

It is the truth about God’s rule. The messiah Jesus shows how God rules: he chooses the lowly; he chooses the poor; he chooses the unworthy, the forgotten, the unlikely. He prefers them to the powerful, the rich, the proud, and the oppressor.

It is the truth about forgiveness. Jesus wasn’t just the king of the righteous. He didn’t just love the deserving. He also loved sinners. In fact, he died for the people trying to kill him. He died for Emperor just as much as the shepherds. He died for King Herod just as much as the wise men. He died for the criminal and the terrorist just as much as he died for you and me.

The Christmas story is the truth about God’s fundamental character of love and compassion, about God being born in our form, identifying with our plight, binding himself to our fate, all to say that nothing can separate us from his love.

Immanuel: God is with us. He is not against us, he is for us. He gave us his son. He gave us himself.

It is also a difficult story to believe, too isn’t it? We live in a world of skepticism. It seems that usually about this time every year someone publishes an article, proclaiming their modern brilliance at just how unbelievable the Christmas story is.

Angels don’t exist. Miracles don’t happen. Virgins don’t have babies. Stars don’t give travelers directions. Gods don’t reveal themselves. It is simply an unbelievable story.

It’s preposterous; it’s impractical; it’s too spectacular; it’s too amazing. Things like this just don’t happen.

But our culture’s skepticism over the things of God – whether it is the possibly of miracles or the fact that God could indeed reveal himself – pays a high price.

Skepticism against the Christmas story is skepticism against hope itself.

We live in an apathetic age.

Wars can’t be stopped. Poverty can’t be solved. Politicians always lie. Life is always unfair. Marriages never work. Churches never help. God isn’t there.

There is no life after death, and ultimate no reason for life before it.

Right and wrong, good and evil, hope and tragedy, these are just creations of the human imagination with no real anchor in reality.

The world is not getting better. In fact, it is getting worse and to be honest, most people would think we are not worth saving.

Forgiveness? Hope? Love? Goodness? It’s preposterous; it’s impractical; it’s too spectacular; it’s too amazing.

It is unbelievable.

Perhaps the Apostles passed along this story not because they were primitive, but because they were just like us.

They lived in a skeptical age. Tyrants stayed powerful; peasants stayed poor; lepers stayed sick; women and slaves stayed property; the dead stayed in the grave; and there is nothing new under the sun.

…Until Jesus showed up. Perhaps the reason the Apostles passed along this Christmas story is precisely because it was unbelievable. Unbelievable yet true.

This is a watershed moment in history, a game-changer, a paradigm-shifter, an epiphany, an event.

God showed up. Hope showed up. Goodness and mercy and forgiveness showed up. Nothing like this had ever happened in their time. Nothing like it before or after. Prophets had foretold this, but who could expect it happening in this way?

Perhaps this story is true in all its remarkable, exceptional, unbelievable, beauty.

We can ask, just like Mary, “How is this possible?” And the angel’s words are just as true today as they were two thousand years ago: With God all things are possible.

With God all things are possible.

If we grant that, this story starts making sense.

Good does triumph over evil. Love does triumph over hate. Forgiveness does triumph over hurt. Peace does triumph over violence. Faith does triumph over idolatry. Hope does triumph over despair.

These truths are not the delusions of us human bi-pedal ape-species with an overgrown neo-cortex.

The deepest longings of the human heart, the groaning of the soul for a world without hunger, sickness, sin, death, and despair – as unrealistic as that sounds – that yearning knows this story is true the same way our thirsty tongues know that water exists.

Its real. Its possible. It is out there. It is here: in Jesus.

The only left to do with this story, when we are done pondering it and puzzling is to trust it.

Can you tonight trust this unbelievable story? Can you trust that with God all things are possible?

Can you trust that your life is not just there without value, but it is a gift, it was planned and made by a God that sees you as his child?

Can you trust that the wrong in your life, the sins we have committed that no excuse can defend has been forgiven by a God that knows you better than you know yourself and sees with eyes of perfect mercy?

Can you trust that God has come into history, has shown us the way, has died for our sins, and conquered the grave?

Can you trust that God can set right all that has gone wrong as we invite him to renew our hearts, our minds, our souls and strength, our relationships, our job and family, our past and future, our communities and our country?

Can you trust that this Christmas story about God’s miraculous power, his unlimited compassion, his surprising solidarity, can be shown to be true this night just as much as it did then? In you, in the person next to you, in this church, in this town.

We give gifts at Christmas time as a sign of God’s generosity, but do we look forward to God’s gifts to us each Christmas?

Do we look for the gift of renewed spirits?

Do we look for the gift of transformed hearts?

Do we look for the gift of forgiveness of past hurts?

Do we look for the gift of reconciled relationships?

Of new freedom from guilt and shame, from hurt and hatred, from addiction and despair, from materialism and apathy.

What gifts are we going to see given from God’s spirit this Christmas.

Perhaps it will be like what happened to Nelson Mandela (just one story I read about this week about how the truth of Christmas changed someone in remarkable ways). In South Africa where Blacks were segregated off from the privileged of White society, Mandela as a young man advocated armed uprising and was imprisoned for life in 1962.

In prison he faced all the things that would, by any worldly standard, destroy hope, love, joy and peace in any man’s soul. He was beaten by the guards. He recount one day being forced to dig a pit that the guards taunted him saying it would be his own grave. As he dug, they peed on him and spat on him. The prison was so dirty he contracted tuberculosis.

Conditions like that fester the heart not just the body, but the miracle of Christmas reached him. Mandela recovered his Christian faith in prison, and was moved with hope towards a better tomorrow, with love and forgiveness towards even his guards that beat him.

In a sermon he gave later in life, he spoke about the hope he gained knowing that the messiah was born an outcast like him. This unbelievable Christmas story, the story that we recite and remember till it we often take it for granted, restored a man’s heart in one of the darkest of places.

Christ’s name is Immanuel: God with us. God was with the shepherd, with Mary, with Joseph, with the oppressed Israeli people, and so, also with Nelson Mendela.

After 26 years in prison, campaigns to have him pardoned succeeded, and Mandela went from prison to the presidential campaign, running to become president and end apartheid, not through violence but through reconciliation.

He won and he even had the guard that beat him from prison, whom he reconnected with and forgave, at his inauguration, a guest of honor.

Its an unbelievable story isn’t it?

How will God work something unbelievable in you tonight?

We could say that our lives aren’t as fantastic as Mendel’s, but then again, if we say that, we would be selling ourselves and our God short.

You see, a story about angels and a virgin giving birth and about a God found in the form of a baby might be unbelievable, but we Christians take that as part and parcel of what our unbelievable God does.

There is a saying that goes if you are in for a pound, you might as well put in a penny.

If we know that God has done the miraculous, can we trust him now with the mundane?

If we know that God has given us life, can we trust him with our finances and family?

If we know that God has atoned for all sin, can we trust him with our fears and failures?

If we know that God has conquered the grave, can we trust him with the worries of tomorrow?

If we know our God is a God that can do all things, that he has already accomplished everything, perhaps can you trust him with something small now. Let’s do something small right now. Something small but still significant.

Let’s have a moment of silence and stillness. We don’t get enough of those in this busy season. Have a moment right now to say to God whatever you need to say or to listen to God and hear whatever he as been trying to tell you, then we will pray together…

*Pause*

Living God, Father of our lord Jesus Christ.

May the worship we have shared this Christmas lead ro acts of service which transform people’s lives

May the carols we have sung this Christmas help others to sing, even in times of sadness.

May the gifts we exchange this Christmas deepen our spirit of giving throughout the year.

May the candles we have lit this Christmas remind us that you intend no one to live in darkness.

May the new people we have met this Christmas remind us that we meet you in our neighbors.

May the gathering together of family and friends this Christmas make us appreciate anew the gift of love.

May these unbelievable stories we have told again this Christmas be good news of great joy to us and all people, proclaimed on our lips and embodied in our lives.

May the ways you have come close to us this Christmas not be forgotten.

May we remember your unbelievable love, mercy, grace, and forgiveness – that you are our life, our light, and our salvation, this season and always, because of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen

[End prayer modified from Gathering for Worship: Patterns and Prayers for a Community of Disciples by the Baptist Union of Great Britain]