© Rev. Lance Carrithers, all rights reserved.  Permission required to copy any portion of this message by any means. Email for permission: lance@firstchurchdc.com

"Sing a Song of Love--God's Dwelling Place"

John 1: 1-14

   

        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 thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

        There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.  He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.  He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

    He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God,  who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

    And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

In the midst of the darkness, the light of Christ has been steadily dawning.  Tonight we light a ring of candles, glowing with hope, peace, joy and love, and of course, the light of Christ centering it all.  What once was a single flickering flame is now a steady glow of Christ’s love.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

            We lose in our English translations when we read the words; “the word became flesh and dwelt among us.”  The Greek word we translate as “dwelt” or “lived among” is the ancient Greek word “SKENOO”  which is a verb closely related to the word, “tabernacle.”  You would read the sentence,  “God tabernacled with the people.”  The tabernacle, we know, was the large holy place where the Ark of the Covenant was kept, a fabric covered dwelling in the desert where God was to be with the Israelites as they sojourned through the wilderness. 

            Tabernacle.  A big tent where God is.  God tabernacles with us. 

            I like the way Tex Sample, a former professor of mine put it.  “God pitched tent with the people.”

            Pitched Tent.  I like that image.  In the midst of our fears, in the midst of our distractions, in the midst of our loneliness, God came and crawled in with us, that we might know the comfort of having God near.  

            When my girls were small, they would get frightened as they lay in their beds, as many small children do.  A noise in the dark. A thunderstorm.  A nightmare.  A shadow on the wall.  Their fears were as varied as the things which gave rise to them. 

            Kristi and I would lay in our bed, and we would hear the whimpers through the darkness.  Sometimes I would go and try to soothe their fears.   I might reassure them that nothing bad was going to happen...that nothing was going to “get” them.  To sleep tight and that Mom and Dad would see them first thing in the morning.

            I’d then return to our bed.  More often than not, the whimpers would continue...until Kristi would get out of bed and go into their room.  My attempt to soothe their fears lasted only a few seconds, perhaps a minute or two. But when Kristi would go into their room, she would be gone for a long, long time.  Often, I would drift on off to sleep before she returned.

            I don’t remember when it was that I first got up to see what was taking Kristi so long.  I must have waited for 15 or 20 minutes, and when she did not return, I slipped out of the covers and poked my head into the room.

            Unlike their father, who kneeled at their bedside, trying to rationalize their fears away, Kristi didn’t rely on conversation.  She simply crawled under the covers with her daughter, giving her the peace and security of knowing that whatever came in the darkness, she was there.  She would protect her, hold her, no matter what.

            That’s what John is trying to tell us....as humanity whimpered in the darkness, God chose to “pitch tent,” or crawl into the covers with us. Giving us the security of knowing that whatever comes in the darkness, God is with us.  God does not remain aloof and removed.  God draws near to remain with us, in every frightening moment.

            I’m struck by the image of “pitching tent,” especially for our men and women who are sleeping in tent-barracks in the desert on the other side of the world right now.  It takes on a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?  

            If you’ve been watching the news today, you know that Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld  is in Iraq for Christmas.  He’s there, trying to demonstrate his support for the men and women who are serving in the military in Iraq.   He’s there, because he’s been receiving quite a lot of criticism from families of soldiers in Iraq, from those who believe that the Secretary of Defense lacks empathy for the soldiers whose lives are being put in harms way in Iraq.  When it came out last week that Rumsfeld had a computer sign his condolence letters to families of slain soldiers, the cry went up—the Secretary appeared distant, out-of-touch and removed!  The criticism reached the point that a number of soldiers and their families do not believe that he can understand what the experience is like out there for our soldiers—facing extreme weather, horrible living conditions, and the daily threat of suicide bombers—sometimes without the necessary armor and protection they need.  And so the Secretary of State went to Iraq for Christmas to begin repairing the damage to his credibility.

            But there is someone that has not abandoned even one of our men and women serving in Iraq.  There is someone that has not abandoned any one of us—pitching tent to show solidarity with human beings that we might never be able to accuse God of not understanding the face of human misery and pain.

            I want you to listen to these words from one of our ancient church Fathers, Saint Augustine, perhaps the greatest of the early church bishops.  He preached these words early in the 5^th century using the first chapter of John as his text:

“The Word of the Father was made flesh and was born in time for us.

“The Maker of man became man that He, Ruler of the stars, might be nourished at the breast; that He, the Bread, might be hungry; that He, the Fountain, might thirst; that He, the Light, might sleep; that He, the Way, might be wearied by the journey; that He, the Truth, might be accused by false witnesses; that He, the Judge of the living and the dead, might be brought to trial by a mortal judge; that He, Justice, might be condemned by the unjust; that He, Discipline, might be scourged with whips; that He, the Foundation, might be suspended upon a cross; that He, Courage might be weakened; that He, Security might be wounded; that He, Life might die.”   From Sermons on the Liturgical Seasons

            As we face the trials of this world, God is with us.  Dwelling with us—pitching tent with us.  As we face any darkness that might come our way, we walk in the light of Christ.  What was it John said? “The darkness shall not overcome the light that is Christ.”

            Later in his gospel John lets us know why God has come to us--to pitch tent with us, to dwell with us here in this world filled with darkness.  A few pages later this same Evangelist writes:  “For God so....(what was it?)  For God so.....loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever might believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

            For love.   

            God enters our darkness, and pitches tent with us, for love.

            God carries our burdens for love.

            Exchanges despair for hope, for love.

            Offers peace for chaos, for love.

            Trades loneliness for joy, for love.

            The light of Christ, is the light of love, in a darkened world. 

            This is the love that is offered to us through the Son.  The love that has pitched tent with us.  This is the love that came down at Christmas. 

            As we stand and sing, “Love Came Down at Christmas, #242 let us prepare ourselves to come to the Table of our Lord and Savior.