“God’s Body Language”

Original sermon given Christmas Day, December 25, 2023, written and delivered by Pastor Jeffrey Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.

Watch the sermon live.

God’s Body Language”

John 1.1-10

John 1.1-10

In the name of the Living God and the Christ who is coming soon. Amen.

Sometimes words just don’t say enough. We have made it to Christmas, and if there is one thing which everyone can relate to, it is the giving and receiving of gifts. Presents are a part of our holiday celebrations in the Western world, and indeed the giving of gifts as a sign of friendship, or peace, or sealing a deal, or arranging a marriage is culturally universal. I’m not very good at gift giving (receiving, I do okay, actually). It’s almost a joke in our family because Rachel does all the presents. All of them. Even her own (I know, for shame on me). But I should be better at this because, when we give a gift, we’re not just telling someone that they are important to us, we are showing them. “A picture is worth a thousand words,” the common phrase notes. I suppose a gift is worth at least 500 words, right? A gift can embody memory, affection, forgiveness, regret, hope and promise—often better than words.

Sometimes words just don’t say enough. Take for example a man who goes on a long journey, to a strange place. He wants to be able to tell his loved-ones goodbye. But instead, simply holds them in his arms—silently, strongly—as if every heartbeat pulses the message “I love you and I’ll be home soon.” Are there any words which can express his love for his family?

Sometimes words just don’t say enough. The pastor is visiting an elderly person in the hospital, who is lying in a bed shrouded in illness, and coming death. Will he read scripture? Will he say a prayer? Will he offer words of comfort, peace, and hope? Yes. But he will also take the person’s hands in his, or gently place his hand on their arm. This “body language” might say as much as anything else. The person who is partway between time and eternity will not just hear words of comfort, they will feel them, and will know that they do not take this journey alone.

St. John writes in the profound prologue of his gospel, “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” This one line has stirred up volumes of words: countless sermons, Bible studies, word studies, theological debates, and theological exam questions. But there is one crystal clear concept which should be clear to us this Christmas season: God’s message of Life and Light to a dead and darkened world was so important, it meant so much, it was of such urgency that words were not enough. His Word crashed through the great divide between eternity and time, and by its very nature and power took on human flesh, blood, and bone. And there, in a barn, in swaddling clothes, in a soft and vulnerable baby body, in gurgles and giggles and blubberings and burpings was born the body-language of God. God’s Word en-fleshed for us as gift.

What does God’s body language tell us? In the first place, we know that God comes to us in the strangest of places. God comes to us in humbleness and humility, weakness and frailty, crib and cross. If we are looking for the source of Life and Light, if we are wondering where there is true peace—shalom—and completeness, if we are searching for meaning in a seemingly meaningless world, we need to take our eyes no further than the Christ child—the fleshed-out Word of God. Anywhere else, we will hear mere human words, anywhere else we will see signs of men. Anywhere else, we will find anything but a gracious God.

Secondly, God comes to us in this strange place, in this humble form so that we may truly have access to Him. The gospel writer John makes it clear to us who this Jesus is: “In the beginning was the word.” And yet, here is the Word in the body of a baby. See him, here! We can approach him, we can worship him, we can even hold him in our arms. If you have ever been terrified of an angry and vengeful God, if have ever wondered if you could approach the throne of grace, if you have ever felt that your sin strikes so hard against you that forgiveness and hope are thousands of miles away, then come here, to the cradle, to the little child of peace. Worship here, he will not reject you. Offer gifts here—he cannot but receive them. Here, in the body language of God are a thousand words of Life, and thousand words of light, a thousand words of forgiveness. 

What does God’s body language tell us? Thirdly, in Jesus is the meeting place between God and humanity. The word did not simply dwell among us. John says, literally, that he ‘Tabernacled’ among us. Remember, the tabernacle was a tent-like place which the Israelites carried around with them throughout their journeys in the wilderness. It was rather like a portable temple. In this place, the very glory of God resided. This is where Moses would go to meet with God.

There is a very simple, and yet powerful message here: Where is the meeting place between God and humanity? Where do we go while in the midst of the wilderness for guidance and strength? Jesus, the Word, God from God, Light, from Light very God from Very God. The Glory of God is seen now in the person and work of Christ. Don’t look anywhere else, you will not find it! Don’t try to approach God from another angle—you will not reach him! But enter into the very dwelling place of God, the very spot where rests the glory and holiness of the Father—the Christ Child, full of Grace and truth. “To all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1.12)

Sometimes words just don’t say enough. The baby Jesus grew to be a man and to embody the message of God. His message was so important, it meant so much, it was of such urgency that he could no longer merely speak it. His body got involved. And his head once nestled against Mary’s breast was torn by a crown of thorns. His hands once tender and tiny, barely strong enough to grasp his mother’s finger—these hands—held iron nails with the strength of a thousand words. His mouth, once not even able to gurgle forth “Da-Da,” cried out to his Father in heaven with such force that the temple curtain was torn in two. 

My friends, there are no words which can express this love. And this love is for you: the body language of God. Today. Here. Now. What else can we possibly say but, “Amen and Merry Christmas.”

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