Joel D. Kline
January 2, 2005
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
The Second Sunday after Christmas
In his book Faith Works Jim Wallis writes of a personal experience I heard him share in a class several years ago, while I was doing sabbatical study at Harvard Divinity School. Jim Wallis is a leader of the Sojourners community, intentionally located in a poor inner-city neighborhood of Washington, D.C. After living in that neighborhood for more than twenty years, Wallis found himself the victim of a mugging. Preoccupied with an upcoming speaking opportunity, Jim failed to “watch his back” as he turned the corner on a deserted street, and by the time he heard the running feet behind him, it was too late. As he turned around, he was hit by something sharp enough to open a gash over one eye, and he immediately felt the blood running down his face. Several hands pushed him to the ground, and he could hear one of his assailants shout, “Keep him down! Get his wallet! Take his money!”
Popping up quickly to face the muggers, Jim discovered that there were four of them, all young teenagers, no one more than fourteen years of age. The youth circled Jim, and the youngest one, who couldn’t have been more than twelve years old, clearly had watched a lot of television, because he began to flail away at Jim with earnest but ineffectual karate kicks. Noting that the youth weren’t carrying weapons, Jim decided to confront them with what they were doing. “Stop it! Just stop it!” Jim scolded them. “You guys have got to quit terrorizing people like this.” The young teens, taken by surprise, dropped their hands, so Jim continued, “I’m a pastor. You boys want to try and beat up a pastor and take his money? Come on ahead. Take your best shot.” At that they fled down the street, but the little karate kicker turned back, looking directly in Jim’s eyes with a sad expression and saying in a sincere voice, “Pastor, ask God for a blessing for me.”
Who among us does not yearn for a blessing from God? Even those we are tempted to write off as too tough, too entrenched in destructive behavior—buried deep beneath the hardened exterior there is a yearning for blessing. Whether a troubled youth, one struggling with addiction, or the “respectable” person fearful of giving voice to his or her own inner struggle—whatever our situation in life, we ache to know God’s blessing.
This morning’s lesson from the prologue to John’s Gospel is one of the grandest passages in the New Testament, reminding us that ours is a God who blesses. Indeed, blessing comes to us through God’s most decisive act in human history—the power of the incarnation, the Word becoming flesh, God dwelling among us. The words of John 1 have become familiar to us, most frequently associated with readings on Christmas Eve for candlelight services. But the power of this passage is not limited to the birth of Jesus. Much more, it speaks about the full meaning of Christ’s life and ministry, of everything Jesus was, and is, and did.
In The Message Eugene Peterson paraphrases the familiar words of the Word becoming flesh this way: “The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into our neighborhood.” This is the remarkable truth we celebrate during the Christmas season, a truth we would do well to carry into the new year—that ours is a creating God who continues to act in human life, bringing light into our darkness, hope into our despair, life into our brokenness, love into our fear and suspicion and dread. And perhaps it is only when life is at its toughest, when that light seems most elusive, that faith begins to make sense at all. For it is faith that empowers us, when immersed in darkness, to trust in the presence of the light.
Writing in Gracias!—a spiritual journal of his experiences in Latin America—Henri Nouwen reminds us, “This is the great mystery of Christmas…we are not alone on our journey…. Christmas is the renewed invitation not to be afraid and to let God—whose love is greater than our hearts and minds can comprehend—be our companion.”
Are we prepared to carry this good news into the new year unfolding before us? When our frailty outruns our strength, when the hope in our heart begins to fade away, when the call to discipleship begins to lose its flavor, when loneliness pursues us, at the very time when it seems as if the darkness will never give way to the light—will we embrace the promise of light shining in darkness, light which shall not be overcome by the darkness, all appearances to the contrary. Indeed, is it not in our times of struggle that God frequently surprises us anew with this life-changing reminder, the promise that we are not alone, that God holds us with a love far greater than our hearts and minds can comprehend.
Some years ago I encountered the words of a Danish pastor named Kaj Munk, imprisoned and later executed by the Nazis for aiding the Jews. Shortly before his death Pastor Munk penned these words:
Yes, perhaps it is all a mistake, this business about Christianity. Sometimes it really looks to me like that. Perhaps all this talk about God and Jesus Christ and the salvation of men [and women] is just a collection of fairy tales. And I am a minister. Perhaps this is a mistake too. Perhaps a mistake to preach love and forgiveness in a hate-torn world, to rescue those who are in need, to teach the children, to comfort the lonely and the dying. But if it is, after all, a mistake, then it is a beautiful mistake. If Christianity should turn out, after all, to be true, then unbelief will have been a very ugly mistake.
Faith involves the continuing decision to trust in the light of Christ, to believe that a new day is coming, to live in the conviction that the power of love is greater than the power of hatred and indifference, that the power of hope shall not be overcome by the struggles of life. You may remember the words of Martin Luther King, Jr. spoken in the aftermath of a march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama. Many were critical of the decision to go forward with the march in March of 1965, which on an earlier attempt had been marked by violence and bloodshed. Yet the March against oppressive racism and for freedom and justice continued, and at its conclusion, King spoke triumphantly on the steps of Montgomery’s capital building:
I know you are asking today, “How long will it take [to achieve justice and freedom?] I come to say to you…however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because truth pressed to earth will rise again.
How long? Not long, because no lie can live forever.
How long? Not long, because you reap what you sow.
How long? Not long. Because the arm of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.
How long? Not long, ‘cause mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord…
This morning you are invited to participate in an act of communion, partaking of the familiar symbols of the bread and the cup. It is a time of remembering and celebrating that we are not alone, that our fears need not control us, that the light of Christ shall not be overcome by the darkness, that the arm of the moral universe bends toward justice, that God answers our deepest yearnings for blessing, that hope shall prevail. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness shall not overcome the light. Thanks be to God for the unspeakable gift of Christ Jesus. Amen.
God of our life—Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer—we come, embarking upon a new year, remembering the hurts and the joys, the disappointments and the promise of a year gone by, anticipating the unfolding of new opportunities, new challenges, new experiences, new hopes in 2005. Through all the changing experiences of life, O God, grant us eyes to see your gracious hand of love upholding us. God of us all, hear us now as individually we pray for your hand of mercy to be upon us, guiding, strengthening, encouraging, challenging, upholding us…
Holy God, this has been a week of shocking images of the destruction wrought by powerful tsunamis—images of death, grief, poverty, fear, uncertainty, loss. Through it all, we are reminded that all of life is interconnected, that the grief of one impacts the experience of the whole. O God, grant us hearts eager to serve—to serve the victims of destruction, to serve a sister or brother overwhelmed by life’s struggles, to serve our neighbor, near or far, by sharing the light and love with which you bless us. God of us all, hear us now as individually we pray for hearts and hands willing to serve your people in need…
God of healing and wholeness, we remember now those who are struggling with health issues, those in special need of your healing touch. We pray for…
God of hope, grant us courage and wisdom for the living of these days. Guide us in paths of peace. Teach us how to bring an end to the warring madness of life. Empower us to walk in paths of discipleship, to extend your light and love to the world around us, to find the courage to embrace the example of Christ Jesus our Lord, through whom we pray. Amen.