“And the Word became flesh and lived among us…” (John 1:14a)
I
keep telling Brooke she’s the youngest person I’ve ever met. Once upon a
quarter century or so ago, I was extending the congregation’s ministry by serving
as volunteer chaplain at the local hospital. Sue, one of my parishioners, was
in labor and delivery giving birth to her third child. When the nurse gave me
permission, I paid a visit to the new mom and dad and greeted the new little
girl. Sue was sitting up in bed, apparently no worse for the ordeal she’d just been
through. Her husband Mike was seated in a comfy chair holding his infant
daughter. He held the tiny bundle in one hand, tucked snuggly against his chest
like a running back would hold a football.
I
had never seen a newborn quite so new. Little Brooke hadn’t been a
citizen of planet earth for half an hour when I peered over her daddy’s
shoulder and saw her enormous blue eyes pop open and then just as quickly close
again into a peaceful, innocent sleep.
There’s
something about a baby that inspires our awe, don’t you think? We must be very
quiet around an infant. We instinctively calm ourselves and a spirit of gentleness
overtakes us. We must not wake this sleeping child. We must be still. And yet,
this very still, swaddled, miniature person has a powerful influence over us.
Should a baby spy us and begin to smile or giggle, we’ll smile and giggle back.
We’ll experience an innocent, selfless joy.
The
wonderful thing about babies is they don’t know anything. They have no racial
prejudice. They have no grievance against anyone. They have never wronged anyone,
and they have no memory of the mistakes we’ve made. They are little packages of
hope, aren’t they? This baby could become someone who brings the world terrific
joy or peace or healing[i]. Maybe this child will
solve a mystery, cure a disease, or in some way make us all better people. A
newborn baby is one more chance for us to get it right.
We
are reminded in the gospel lesson for the Second Sunday of Christmas (John 1:1-18)
that God’s Word became flesh and lived among us. It seems poignant and fitting
that the Almighty Wisdom which in the beginning created the heavens and the
earth and all that is seen and unseen came to us in the guise of a helpless
newborn baby. In this child we see hope for our future. We see purity. We see
forgiveness because all our past blunders and wrongs are completely unknown and
unimportant in the eyes of a newborn. Shame and regret are replaced with gentleness
and care and concern and longing for righteousness. That’s what God must desire
for all of us. So God’s Word became flesh.
I
imagine that for some Christmas must be over now. The radio has stopped playing
Christmas tunes and it’s time to put the tree out on the curb and take down the
lights. The exhausting blizzard of Yuletide activities is over for another
year. But, for us in the Church, there are still a few more days to celebrate
the Word becoming flesh, to contemplate the arrival of the Christ child, to
hold the Baby Jesus in our arms and imagine the newness of the life he brings.
It
is significant, I think, that John’s gospel not only takes us forward, but
takes us backward. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God.” In the beginning. In a time before there was time, God
had decided to love and save the world. God had decided to create and bless and
inspire you.
Happy
New Year, my friend. May the peace of God which passes our understanding keep
your heart and your mind in Christ Jesus.
[i] BTW,
Brooke is now a grownup and works in a medical lab. She just might change the
world. I don’t put it past her.
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