This is the text of he message I brought to Kaniva Active Retired Group for their December 2022 Christmas Service (Break-up). It comes in place of the annual Blue Christmas service, since many who would have attended that evening service are now too frail to come out.
John 1:1-5, 10-14
There are some years when I want Christmas to come without the pageantry, and this year is a year like that. With two years of lockdowns and border closures behind us as we entered 2022 we had such hopes for this new year that finally we could get on with a new normal. Things would never be the same again, but in a farming community maybe the land would do what the land always does, and as long as Dan and Steven (and now Peter) kept their hands away from the invisible line at Serviceton we’d be able to get back to where we were, and maybe even some way to where we might have been. But then there was Covid-19 itself, and many of us got sick; perhaps only a week off here or there, and maybe it happened twice, but we felt crook and we stayed home and we wondered what all the fuss had been about. And there was the usual stuff of a year where some friends died and other friends moved away; but the land did what the land does and the crops and the stock grew tall. And then it rained; and it’s still raining, and even though the Wimmera River didn’t do what the Murray and the Campaspe did we still got bogged and our crops and our stock got wet. After two years of rolling bouts of home detention right now I just want to hide under my doona. Yes, my doona, even on 14th December because it is doona weather this week.
This year Christmas Day falls on a Sunday, so for those of us who are people of faith it is not just another day of the week or a random 25th of the month. But with wet conditions for harvest, and a delayed harvest, even Christmas Day is a day we might not have wanted this year. It’s a day better spent on a header than on a dining chair, a day better spent hiding under the doona than looking out the window at unfinished jobs.
Christmas Day is always a loud and bright day in Australia, and I’m sure it will be no different this year. But will we just be putting on a happy face, or will we have found joy even in this year?
In the opening verses of John’s gospel we have Christmas without the paraphernalia. There are neither magi nor shepherds; no animals, no angels, not even a baby let alone manger. There is no bright and shining star, but there is light and there is a word; a word which is a who (and not a what), a word who is glorious and alive, a word who is light who banishes the darkness. I have often wondered during Advent what a Christmas pageant would look like if we based it on John’s account rather than Matthew’s or Luke’s. It would be less boisterous without the bunch of kids dressed as a flock of lambs; rather one solitary boy dressed as everlasting light. I never got to be Joseph when I was a child, although I did play him in a monologue when I was 42. At eleven I was one of the angels, (complete with magic wand); I wonder what it would have meant to be chosen to play the real light – the light that comes into the world and shines on all mankind.
In John 1:12 we read to those who did accept him he gave the power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name. You know that the name of the Word who came as light is Jesus, whose name means “God Saves”. The phrase in his name might means to accept Jesus for all that he is and all that he stands for: the whole being of Jesus and his story. If you acknowledge and receive Jesus, the one who exists and proclaims the salvation of God, then you will become a son or daughter of God. Many did not accept Jesus when he came, and many since then and until today have not accepted him, either they have heard the story and rejected it, or they haven’t heard the story properly told. We read where John 1:12 specifically says to those who did accept him, because in John 1:11 we’ve just been told that many didn’t.
And that’s where we might find ourselves this Christmas because the story is unacceptable. Here’s a story about eternal light entering the world, a story about the Word of God which is God’s authority entering the world. Here’s a story about a man who embodies all of the above and his name is literally “God’s Salvation” as if the man is himself the saviour, and not just a living prophecy whose name is a message, he himself with the name is also the means of salvation. And yet here I am, on a Wednesday in the side-room of a hospital, and here I am questioning because God did very much NOT save. If God saves then why in 2022 have some been widowed, others orphaned, others divorced, others bankrupted, others made psychotic, or quadriplegic, or simply left bedridden by a virus? Why does all of this light that the Bible speaks of just make the darkness even more obvious to those struggling with the realities of the 2020s, including “post-lockdown 2022”? When we say “God saves” we must acknowledge that others find that very hard to accept, let alone believe, especially at Christmas.
As a local pastor I heed that call to hear the hurt; as Christians at Christmas we all must. My story of salvation is not complete, I have not felt safe at times this year, and even today I am operating from my last reserves. This month I have been so busy working as a minister in December that I have not found space to be a Christian in Advent, and I am really missing Jesus. I wonder whether some farmers and shopkeepers in December might be feeling the same. So, when someone outside Christianity tells me that God’s salvation is very hard to accept, let alone believe, I believe them, and I accept that story as accurate and true.
But John’s story is also accurate and true, and I know this because it is also my story. That I am here this year, after fifty years of years like 2022, (and 2021, 2020, and a few nasty ones in the nineties and noughties), and still able to tell my story and connect it to John’s gospel, is all down to the fact that God does save, did save, will save, and that Jesus is the means by which that is accomplished. I am a Christian, a recipient of salvation. God saved me I did not save myself and even in my weakness and irritability this week I know that only Christ came come through for me, because he always has, because I have never been able to do so. That message was easily lost in this busy and rainy December, but I am hopeful it might be found once more. Amen.