O come, Thou Day-spring

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

The Word became flesh: looking again at Jesus VII

A sermon from John 1.1-14: Part VII
Verses 9-13 then give us a condensed version of the plot of the rest of the Gospel. It’s like the trailer, giving us glimpses into what is to come in the main feature.

The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.

This story seems to be a tragedy. The source of all that is going unrecognised, unthanked, unreceived. The creator entering his creation and being overlooked. The director walking on set and being ignored. But in the end, it will not be a tragedy. The ignorance is not total, the distraction is not universal. Some recognise him, believe in him, are welcomed into the conversation as loved children.

As readers, the pressure is on: are we going to recognise him? John is making sure we’re given plenty of warning. We face a strange situation: in the pages of this text we are to meet the one who is the light of all people, who gives light to everyone, who is the source of life and through whom all things were made, and yet, who ordinary enough to be missed. The single most amazing figure in history, but blink and you might miss him.

How is this possible? It’s as though people were walking around outside in broad daylight and didn’t notice the sun shining in their faces. The very light that enables them to see is almost too bright to look at directly. They don’t want to look at the light.

A few chapters further in, John has an even stronger explanation of how people can miss the sun shining in their faces: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. All those who do evil hate the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. But those who live by the truth come into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God. (John 3.19b-21)

Light doesn’t just illuminate, bringing warmth and the possibility of life. Light also exposes. To keep reading, trying to gain a fresh look at Jesus, might not only mean being dazzled, but it might uncover things we’d rather stayed hidden. Talking with God, being addressed by his Word, having his light shine on you is dangerous. Very dangerous. Much safer to stay in the dark. Much safer to close the book, to walk away. Is your life comfortable? It will be easier if you stop coming to church. Or if you do keep coming, then better make sure Jesus stays safely familiar as a friend, or securely distant as an inspiring historical figure. Try not to take his words too seriously, because he lived in a different culture don’t forget. Don’t pay too much attention; don’t become fanatical. Cultivate a healthy cynicism. Make sure there are always excuses to not get too involved. If you want to keep your feet on the ground, then please ensure that you don’t try reading the Bible for yourself, you don’t make more than small talk at morning tea, stick to people you know, treat the liturgy as a nice ritual, the songs as a chance to stretch your legs, the confession as a vague generality, communion as just a beautiful quiet moment. Really, it’s much safer for everyone that way. Don’t open the door, it’s much nicer in the dark and we don’t have to face one another. We don’t have to be honest with ourselves. We can avoid hearing God’s unsettling query: where are you?

Plato allegedly once said, “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”
Series: I; II; III; IV; V; VI; VII; VIII; IX; X.

The Word became flesh: looking again at Jesus VI

A sermon from John 1.1-14: Part VI
In him was life and that life was the light of all people. (v. 4) The source of life was in him, in the Word, God’s Logos. God made us, by his Word. He sustains us by his Word. He gives us the light of life, the brightness of being alert and active, the illumination of knowing and seeing. If we enjoy shining a little ourselves, it is not because we generate our own light; at best we reflect this original gift as the moon reflects the sun.

Then in verse 5 comes the first hint of a problem, the first stirrings of the tension that will drive all of John’s narrative. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. Here, the first shadow has fallen across the plot. There is a darkness that stands against this light. Even though all things were made through the Word, who is also the light, yet there is darkness. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. There is an implicit threat to life, to light, to God’s good conversation, but this threat will not extinguish the God and his Word who have been there since the beginning.

There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. (vv. 6-8) Suddenly in verse 6 we have two new elements introduced. First, we’re brought into historical time. No longer are we still in the beginning; we’ve entered into a particular point at which there was a man. Second, we meet this man, God’s messenger, whose name was John. We’ll soon find this John is not the author, but another John: John the Baptiser. John the author wants to make sure we’re not confused; this baptiser is not himself the light, even though he is from God. He is a signpost, pointing away from himself, saying “look – over there!” We’ll be hearing more about John the Baptist from Mike in two weeks’ time.
Picture by JKS. Ten points for the Australian location (region will suffice).
Series: I; II; III; IV; V; VI; VII; VIII; IX; X.

The Word became flesh: looking again at Jesus V

A sermon from John 1.1-14: Part V
2. LIGHT – shining in the darkness

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

- John 1.1-5.

The generously conversational God spoke the world into being. He is the source of all that is. Nothing can avoid being in relationship to him via his creative word. If you exist, if you’re alive, you’re already a recipient of his grace. Your very life and breath is a gift from outside. I didn’t ask to be born. I didn’t earn the right to start breathing. Every time the sun rises on a new day, all we can do is receive it with empty hands and thanks. Like the sun, the source of our life streams relentlessly into us from a source beyond us, a source we cannot control and can only accept.

Let’s listen to one artist’s thoughts on this theme. This is from a track called “You are the Sun” by Sara Groves.

You are the sun shining down on everyone
Light of the world giving light to everything I see
Beauty so brilliant I can hardly take it in
And everywhere you are is warmth and light

And I am the moon with no light of my own
Still you have made me to shine
And as I glow in this cold dark night
I know I can’t be a light unless I turn my face to you

Shine on me with your light
Without you I’m a cold dark stone
Shine on me, I have no light of my own
You are the sun, you are the sun, you are the sun
And I am the moon

Twelve points for the first to guess the Scottish location in the photo.
Series: I; II; III; IV; V; VI; VII; VIII; IX; X.

The Word became flesh: looking again at Jesus III

A sermon from John 1.1-14: Part III
1. WORD – a conversation we did not begin
John begins with the famous passage read for us earlier. In the beginning, John takes us back, all the way back. For any reader of the Bible, you can not help but hear the echoes of Genesis: In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. But our first surprise comes when we read not In the beginning God, but In the beginning was the Word. The Word, the "logos" - in Greek philosophy, the basic organising principle of rationality that holds back chaos and brings order. In the Old Testament, the personal message of the Israel’s God, usually expressed through the prophets: Hear the word of the LORD. In Genesis 1, God creates by speaking: Let there be light. And it was so. And for all these reasons, perhaps we’re not surprised to hear verse 3: Through the Word/Logos all things were made; without the Logos nothing was made that has been made. Indeed, so closely associated with God’s creative and originating power is this Logos that it was there in the beginning with God. And yet, the Word was God. The Word is both something else, another with God right from the start, and yet also identified as God.

Perhaps John has already lost you. Right from this opening verse, we’ve been warned that his simple statements will be confusingly and even explosively complex once we start to put them together. But why would we expect God to be easily understood?

Here already we have something profound, if we will give John the time and respect to ponder it. Unless we are ready to receive, we will stare frustrated at the dots on the page.
Eight points for guessing the country.
Series: I; II; III; IV; V; VI; VII; VIII; IX; X.