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Homepage >> Ministry >> Worship And Music >> Sermons >> All the Time . . . No Matter What All the Time . . . No Matter What
During the children’s homily at the 4:00pm “Family” service
on Christmas Eve, Ray was telling the kids just how much God loved them and
what a great gift that was to all of them. Near the end of Ray’s talk, a hand
went up and a little voice asked, “But what about when we do something wrong?” Without
missing a beat, Ray said, “Well, we always have to say that we’re sorry and
really mean it, but God still loves us – all the time, no matter what.” On this sixth day of Christmas, we are offered another perspective
on that fundamental truth – that God loves us – no matter what. Through the
lens of the prologue to John’s Gospel, we are given further insight into the
belief that the Word of God was with God at the beginning of all that is – in
fact, the Word was God and was part and parcel to all creation. The Word came
into the world in the person of Jesus to be the light shining in the darkness –
a light so powerful that even the darkness of the world did not overcome it. People
neither recognized Jesus for the light he was nor appreciated the gift of
adoption as God’s children that he represented. However, the Word came anyway
and the gifts were freely offered. Our Collect of the Day this morning
describes this gift as light being poured upon us – God pouring the light of
his incarnate Word upon us. Pouring light – what an incredible image! That image of light being poured onto us brings to mind two
other images that more fully illuminate the message of today’s readings. Those
images are of the story of the Prodigal Son (and the forgiving father) from
Luke’s Gospel and the story of the night visit of Nicodemus to Jesus later in
John’s Gospel. At least for me, they illustrate the almost incomprehensible
notion that God loves us – no matter what – and invites us to only believe that
it is so. In Luke’s story, the youngest son decides to claim his
inheritance and go away to seek his fame and fortune. In the “good” times which
follow, he loses everything and ends up working as a farmhand feeding the pigs.
He finally decides that going back to his father and working as a slave for him
would be better than the life he knows, so he sets out to return home. The
image in the Gospel of the father running out to embrace his son even before he
arrives is priceless. The joy of the father in knowing his son is alive and
safe is unmistakable. He puts sandals on the tired feet, a robe about his shoulders
and a ring on his finger and arranges for the finest banquet to be served as a
grand celebration of his son’s returning. The passage from Isaiah – this morning’s first lesson – contains
these same images. For the people of It’s not hard to imagine similar images in our reading from the
Letter to the Galatians. The apostle Paul, writing to the young church
community, is pleading with them to stay true to the new faith and beliefs they
have accepted and not be distracted by the culture in which they live or the
contradictory teachings they have been exposed to. Paul loves this church which
he has founded. He reminds them that now that this new faith has come to them,
they no longer live under the old laws – the old constraints. They are redeemed
– reborn, in a sense, and set free – by God’s Son. Their cry of “Abba, Father!”
echoes that of the prodigal son. The fact that they are no longer slaves to the
world but children of God and heirs to all God offers is the image Luke would
have us see in the forgiving father as he welcomes his wandering son home. Both
are explicit images which help us imagine the great love of God for each of us. John’s story of the visit of Nicodemus is less explicit, but
nevertheless deals with the relationship between God and God’s children. Nicodemus
is a member of the powerful ruling authority of the Jewish community – the
Sanhedrin – but also a man who is curious about this Jesus and what he has been
teaching. Early in the gospel account, Nicodemus comes to see Jesus under cover
of darkness. Jesus’ explanation of having to be born again – not by blood but
by water and Spirit – perplexes the learned man who is searching for answers
from this young teacher. Nicodemus fails to understand this spiritual rebirth –
this sense of being adopted as God’s children in the light of new beliefs and
acceptance of Jesus. He can only think in physical terms. The light, so to
speak, has not been poured upon him – at least not at this point. But Jesus must have given him something profound to ponder,
for we meet Nicodemus two more times in John’s Gospel. After having made his
initial visit to Jesus in darkness for fear of being discovered, he is the one
who speaks up during the Sanhedrin’s deliberations about Jesus and argues for a
fair hearing regarding Jesus’ actions. We might see him then as emerging from
the shadows. Lastly, John tells us that Nicodemus brought a hundred pounds of
spices with which to anoint Jesus’ body after his crucifixion. By that time,
there could be no mistaking that the Jewish leader now walked in the full light
of Jesus’ revelation. John’s prologue is deeply concerned with Jesus as Word to
enlighten us, with Jesus as light which prevails against all darkness, with
Jesus as one who gives power to each of us to become children of God – born
into that relationship “not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will
of man but of God.” John tells us that “no one has ever seen God” and the
difficulty Nicodemus had in understanding who he was talking to and what he was
hearing reminds us of that statement. “It is God the only Son, who is close to
the Father’s heart, who has made him known.” The image of the embrace of the
forgiving father and the wandering son is one that makes things more clear. On this first Sunday after Christmas, we are still basking
in the afterglow of our great feast day celebration – still basking in the new
light which has come into the world. Some two thousand years later, we might ask
ourselves, “What is it we should affirm or believe, now that God has come to be
in our midst?” Our faith sets the old “law” aside and gives us new norms to
shape and guide our lives. God’s coming to be incarnate, to be a “Father” in a
new and different way, sets “natural laws” aside. At the dawn of the New Year,
when we are concerned with putting old things behind us and embracing a new
period in our lives, we are given pause to think about things revealed in a new
light. Perhaps we have struggled to see and understand things
unseen and therefore unknown, much as Nicodemus did during his original
encounter with Jesus. But as time has gone on, the idea of being a new kind of
child, loved unconditionally by this new kind of father, becomes clearer as our
faith reveals the truth of things in new ways. Perhaps the gospel story of the
prodigal son and his forgiving father offers us a chance to grasp the fuller
meaning of our right relationship with God. Like our young parishioner on Christmas Eve, we are always
tempted to question, “But what if we do something wrong?” We will. And when we do, we need to say that we’re sorry and
we need to mean it. But we also need to know and believe with all our heart
that God loves us anyway – all the time, no matter what. Arms are always
outstretched in joyful welcome. The banquet table is always set with the finest
of gifts. We are lovingly invited to come home. We simply need to trust that
all of it is true.
(This sermon was preached by the Rev. Terri Stanford, Associate Rector, in St.
Chrysostom's Church, Chicago, Illinois, on Sunday, December 30, 2007, The
First Sunday after Christmas.)
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