Christmas: A New Beginning

Sermon for Christmas Day

St. John's, Georgetown Parish | Washington, DC Christmas Day III

John 1:1-14 Psalm 98

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Loving God, open our hearts that we may truly know your presence with us and receive the new life you draw us into. In the name of the Holy Trinity. Amen.

Merry Christmas!

Today is a new beginning. On this Christmas morning, we gather in remembrance of a new birth which took place over 2,000 years ago—but our celebrations also proclaim a new beginning that is continually unfolding, even on this present day.

This is just how John’s Gospel begins the story of Jesus of Nazareth. As each of the gospel writers tell the story of his birth, they all take a different approach. Some accounts emphasize historical or genealogical information, but not the Gospel of John. For John anything less than poetry and mysticism would be insufficient. And this is partially why the symbol of an eagle is attributed to John the Evangelist—because these 18 verses we’ve just heard, some have described, “soar with celestial flight.”

It is also commonly thought that this opening prologue was adapted from a familiar hymn. Before they were used to begin the gospel narrative, they were likely composed for a community to sing together. So, just imagine for a moment these lines being sung by a chorus of swelling voices—perhaps even accompanied by a grand orchestra:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being... And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory...”

When John gazes on the image of the Christ child born in a manger, what he sees taking place is something marvelous that charges the world with grandeur. So, rather than the details of a historical moment, he is interested in the meaning behind this event in time. Like the Psalmist who invites us to join our voices together in singing a new song, John’s Gospel sweeps us up into something of cosmic significance. God has entered the world in flesh, and the gospel announces to us the newness that is continually unfolding.

As this vision of Christ is lifted up in joyful proclamation, it becomes far more than mere information. As a work of artistic creativity and beauty expressed in community, it aims to impart an experiential knowledge—which, repeated over time, becomes life-altering. Now, if the opening of the Hebrew Bible comes to mind here, it is because this reference is intentional. The Book of Genesis—which narrates the origins of existence and our world—opens in very much the same way: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” Genesis tells a story about how all that exists has come into being through the creative action of God.

And then the Gospel of John returns us to these same words because it aims to tell the same story...

The narratives of creation and incarnation are very much the same: 1) Each story is marked by a rupturing of time and space. Something comes into being at the action of God. 2) Each story tells us of divine disruption. New beginning bursts forth from the creativity of God. 3) Each story is an emphasis on the presence of God—and wherever God’s Spirit hovers and dwells, there is always the possibility of something new taking place.

As we will pray in a few moments at the Eucharist, God’s Spirt “moved over the deep” at creation. The Word of God then became flesh at the incarnation and “lived among us.” And through the life of Jesus of Nazareth—who “loved us” and “yearned to draw all the world to himself”—the way of God’s salvation became plain for all to see. As is written in the letter to the Hebrew’s, Jesus is “the exact imprint of God’s very being” and what Jesus does is what God does. This is the truly radical claim of our faith.

When we gaze on the image of the Christ child born in a manger, we see the reality of what has always been. Calling new things into being is what the God of creation has always been up to. Our material reality is formed, worlds are shaped, and life begins anew—again and again and again. And infused throughout every act of creation is the imprint of God who, to borrow words from the theologian Paul Tillich, is not only the source of creation but is and remains “the very ground of all being.” God’s presence endures—always. This is the story of faith, and the story of our lives.

So, I wonder, what does it mean for us to continually gather around this story?

Each week in our liturgy we remember, retell, and rehearse this story of faith. And I wonder, what might it look like for us to then also respond...

What if we responded to this ongoing story of creation by fully entering into it?

This morning, as we are surrounded by wonder and excitement, we begin twelve days of Christmas. Today marks a new beginning. And each time we share a festive “Merry Christmas” greeting with one another, today and each day to come, we announce that something new has arrived and that it continues to unfold in our lives.

Whatever burdens you may carry on this Christmas morning, know that God’s presence remains in the whole of life. And wherever you may find yourself in faith, know that every breath joins together in the chorus of creation.

At Christmas, God comes to dwell in human form. And no matter how pretty or unresolved life may be, God delights in you. Through every glittering tinsel and sparkling light, the Spirit of the incarnate God whispers to you: I am with you, I have been with you always, I will be with you in every new beginning.

What new things is stirring inside of you? What is this season of your life inviting you toward? What new beginning might begin to unfold even on this day?

Today is a new beginning. Every moment of our lives is infused with the possibility of newness—and every breath joins in a cosmic orchestra. So, as the Psalmist urges us this Christmas: let days of your life be a joyful noise. Lift up the whole of life as an offering to God. Because singing a new song is a hope-filled, creative action—and sweet rejoicing may just break through at any time.

In each of our lives, may we trust and know fully this gift of a Merry Christmas.

Amen.