First Sunday After Christmas

(by Malcolm Heath - Guest Preacher)

As we were preparing for Christmas, my wife turned on the radio, briefly. It was what we call “Christmas Eve Eve” at our house, and we were busy trying to get as much cooking done as we could, so that we could relax on the holiday.

It was the usual Thursday afternoon sort of show on NPR – no special programming was on, and so it was the regularly scheduled litany of woe and despair that constitutes our news reporting, admittedly with a bit more depth and insight than one might find on cable TV.

My wife quickly turned it off. She said something along the lines of “that’s not very Christmas-ey” and I agreed. News of war, of children being harmed, of deadly weather and delayed justice do not, as a rule, a good Christmas backdrop make.

And yet, I found myself thinking, is this not precisely why Christmas took place at all?



We’re Episcopalians, and so we know our Incarnational theology well. We hold that particular take on the Gospel dear, and think about it deeply. And here we are, just after the very thing has taken place – God, Incarnate, in a manger born. Are we thinking about it now?

Lancelot Andrewes spoke of this, saying:

"He is not only God for us, or God with us, but God one of us.”

Why is that so powerful? Some sort of intervention is obviously needed. All that stuff on the radio shows us that. Our hearts show us that too, as we grieve, or fear, or rage or despair.

But why on such a personal level? Couldn’t have God simply come down, two-thousand years ago, or even earlier, and fixed things? Even in the history of his chosen people, the children of Abraham, where he does intervene, his children never quite seem to get it. They get it with their heads, but maybe not with their hearts.

Bet better than you are, says God. Be righteous. Brave and strong, and compassionate. Love justice. Help the widow and the orphan. Treat others fairly.

We don’t believe him, that we’re capable of such a thing. I suppose we can’t be blamed too much for that. We’re weak, and the world is scary and dangerous. Who could blame us if we sought to merely protect ourselves, and our loved ones? That we might struggle to “get our share” before someone stronger or meaner takes it from us?

It all makes a terrible kind of sense.

But God says, “Don’t believe it. You’re better than that. I know you are.” And so, since we’re such terrible listeners, He becomes one of us, so he can tell us to our face. One on one. “You’re better than this, don’t let anyone tell you different. Here, let me show you how.”

Not only God for us, or God with us, but God one of us.

As it turns out, studies have shown of late that God had the right idea. It turns out that if you show someone one person who needs help, almost everyone will give to help that person. If it’s more than one, even if it’s just two, the number of people willing to help drops dramatically. Once you get into the 3 to 4 person range, the number is dramatically down, into the single digits of percentage points.

One on one is the way to go, it seems.

And so, if we are, in fact, believers in an Incarnate God, a God so loving that He would become something as screwed up and dangerous as we are, something as blind and incapable as we are, in order to show us that we can be better, then, what do we need to do ourselves, as we live out that incarnational belief in the world?

I think we know. And I think that it will be one to one, seeing the incarnate Christ in the face we look into next, and the one after that, and the one after that.

God one of us.