Full of Grace
John 1:1-18

January 4, 2004

Middle names do matter. None more than mine did this past Monday morning when Molly noticed in the obit section of the Leader-Post that except for one initial I had died.

Robert D. Kitchen of Avonlea died on Christmas morning. I never met him directly, though I believe he did attend a wedding I conducted in my first year here. Fortunately, I am Robert A. There is an appropriate tale to go with this event.

A man woke up one day to see his own obituary in the paper, correct middle initial and all. Upon examination of his personal situation, he determined that there was a mistake. He went to the newspaper editor and demanded a retraction. “The best I can do for you now,” said the editor, “is to include you in the new births tomorrow morning.”

I hope the guy took the opportunity. To be born again does not come along too often. To begin the new year really new is our fondest desire, most rarely granted.

When New Year’s strike is humanly arbitrary. The sun and the stars mandate a 365-1/4 days per year do not keep a calendar. Even in 2004 the year does not leap -- it’s our minds that have decided to add a beat.

But when our calendar turns over it does cause us to think about what has happened, what has been accomplished, what has been omitted and undone? It’s easy to point to our individual highs and lows, events and experiences, that marshall our sadness and joy. It is even easier to review the world’s condition and emerge depressed and angry with the sinfulness of humanity. The war in Iraq, terrorism in Israel and Palestine and nearly everywhere else, violence in Africa, discrimination and loss of democracy in the First World, economic disasters from SARS to BSE come quickly to mind. We know these sins are too many, too overwhelming. How do we move on and live in this year as children of God?

It is usually frowned upon by liberal social activist Christians to be optimistic about the way things are going. And certainly optimism must be brave today. But today we have the witness of Jeremiah the prophet during the worst period of Israel’s history. For years Jeremiah declared the oracles and judgments of God upon the pious Israelite leadership. He was not considered a happy prophet. The word “jeremiad” is still used to refer to a doleful complaint and list of woes and lamentations. The leaders did not want to believe what he prophesied, so at various times Jeremiah was thrown into prison as a traitor, beaten up and nearly killed. And then history proved him all too right as the Babylonians conquered Israel, burned Jerusalem and the Temple and sent the leadership off to Babylon in exile.

Yet it was Jeremiah who would again speak the word of the Lord no one could believe when he spoke of how Israel was going to go home in freedom, released from another Egypt and heading back to their Promised Land. Jeremiah never seemed to say what people wanted to hear; he just repeated what God told him.

“For the Lord has ransomed Jacob, and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him” (Jeremiah 31:11). I betcha Jeremiah’s song put more than a few people out of work who were dependent upon Israel’s depressed state for their commerce and livelihood. Too much good news. Israel doesn’t deserve being saved, they say and they are right. But our God is, when all is said and done, full of grace. Free love and free redemption and forgiveness when you don’t deserve it. Most of us have difficulty accepting grace.

The Evangelist John sings a song of undeserved grace about how the Word came to us. The words are magnificent, but hard to comprehend. “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 came into being.” Jesus Christ is the Word, the Son of God equal to God, according to John and many Christians since then. Yet many Christians don’t see the need or the logicality of the Word being that godly. A great teacher, a wonderful counselor, but who needs all that divinity?

John keeps talking about the Word being Light come into the midst of our darkness to show us the way. We are excellent makers of darkness and in the past year the world has been busy. Sometimes we don’t bother to look at the Light, or perhaps don’t believe we deserve to bathe in the grace of the Light. You can’t fight against the darkness unless you know the colours of the Light.

There are people who keep showing us the Light. John the Baptist was one, but so have Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu, Martin Luther King, Jr., Mother Teresa, and countless other bright names known to a smaller number.

The Word was in the world, but the world knew him not. Anonymity is still the mode in which the Word operates. We are not so much interested in the Light that makes clear how we should live and walk, as in stars, people of glamour and human accomplishment. Stars never give off as much light as the Sun, of course.

Those who have recognized the Light have been given power to become children of God, born of God. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

The hardest thing for human beings to deal with is grace. We don’t know what to do with it. Should we do more or do we have to do anything at all now, if God is taking care of things?

In major league baseball you sometimes see outfielders trying to show off their powerful arms by throwing the ball all the way in to home plate, usually not getting anyone out, but allowing the other runners to take an extra base.

One day the St. Louis Cardinals outfielder Jack Clark came in from the field and announced to all that he had found God and was born again. “That’s nice that you’ve found God and all that,” said the salty ol’ manager, “as long as you still can find the cut-off man.”

We have been given grace upon grace, and that doesn’t mean you and I can stop working. Understanding that we live by grace allows you to continue to do your life’s work knowing that in the midst of all this darkness there is hope and light and possibility and probability of good and redemption. The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us refers to the first century A.D. historical events, but the Word is eternal and still among us, showing the light amidst our every darkness.

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan