Christmas 2 B: Telling the Truth

John 1:1-18

Dear Partner in Preaching,

One of the things I love about the biblical story is that it tells the truth. Which is probably why I trust that it is, in turn, true. That is, apart from the many and varied questions of historical accuracy or authorial intent and elaboration – some of which are important and others less so – the biblical story points unfailingly to something that is true. And because it tells me the truth about our life in this world, I trust that its testimony about God is similarly trustworthy, reliable, and true.

And that kind of truth-telling seems particularly important these days, when there is no agreed upon narrative of reality. We can – and, as you well know, so many, including many that will listen to your sermon on Sunday, are and will continue to – create and curate our own “information universes” where our biases are uniformly reinforced, our prejudices routinely confirmed, and all opposing views are vigorously and at times viciously denigrated. Truth, always a little slipperier than we would like to imagine, has become downright elusive – or at least relentlessly contested – over the last four years.

Which is where John’s hymn to the Word and introduction to his Gospel comes in so handily. Because it starts with a truth that is as undeniable as it is painful. There is darkness and difficulty and challenge and loss in the world. And John’s first eighteen verses – and yes, please read the whole lection, as our folks deserve to hear this beautiful passage in its entirety at least once a year! – John’s first eighteen verses nearly ooze with that difficult truth, especially poignant at four distinct places:

5: “The light shines on in the darkness.” Yes, there is darkness.

10: “He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him.” Oh, the ache of being unrecognized by those whom you birthed.

11: “He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him.” And to be rejected by your own people!

18: “No one has ever seen God…” We’re only midway through this affirmation, but this truth deserves a full stop, as our inability to see God, and the palpable sense of God’s absence this often invites, can at times feel too painful to bear.

Yes, John tells us the truth about the pain and paucity, about the loneliness and longing, that attend our life in this world. And when we hear that truth we’re often and perhaps surprisingly relieved to hear someone admit it and discover that as difficult as the darkness can be, naming it helps define it, even limit it, and often robs it of some of its power. Even more, when we dare to tell the difficult truth, we are seen as trustworthy, as so few seem to have the courage to do so.

Listening to that first truth, in turn, prepares us to hear the second, even greater, truth to which John bears witness. That while there is darkness, the light shines on. In fact, the darkness can neither comprehend nor overcome nor vanquish the light. Moreover, when while some reject the light or cannot recognize Jesus, those who accept and recognize him in turn recognize that they are children of God. And, while it is impossible for us to see God, yet Jesus, the one who comes from the bosom of the father and reveals the heart and character of God, Jesus has made God knowable and accessible.

So much is in this passage! But I wonder, Dear Partner, at the close of a difficult and challenging year that was still anno domini – “the year of our Lord,” to borrow the old words – it might be helpful to share both of these truths. First the difficult and undeniable one that creates a sense of trustworthiness and encourages us to name the griefs and losses we carry, and then the hopeful and courage- and faith-creating truth that God’s light is more powerful than darkness, that God’s love is more powerful than hate, and that God’s life – embodied and enfleshed in the Christ child – is more powerful even than death.

Two truths, then, we are called to share, Dear Partner. The truths Frederick Buechner named, in what I still believe is the finest book on preaching yet written, as “tragedy and comedy” so that we can then experience the life-giving power of the “fairy tale” that we did not expect or foresee but immediately experience as more true than the reality we thought was all there is.*

As we draw this year to a close – a year so many of us are eager to put behind us – I want to linger just long enough to tell you again how grateful I am to you for your commitment to tell the truth. The hard, at times painful truth, and the at times hard-to-believe, poignant, heart-achingly beautiful truth of the Gospel. It is a privilege to share that responsibility with you. God bless you for your work this year past, and for all you will do and become and accomplish in the new year of grace that is 2021.

Yours in Christ,

David

*Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairytale, by Frederick Buechner (Harper & Row, 1977).