+ In the Love of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Merry Christmas! {{Congregational Response}} [Merry Christmas!]
Now, if you spoke English English, instead of American English, how would you say “Merry Christmas?” {{Congregational Response}} [Happy Christmas!]
“Happy” carries a different nuance, doesn’t it? a slightly different sensibility.
How do you say “Merry Christmas” in Welsh? {{Congregational Response}} [laughter]
It’s “Nadolig Llawen.” “Nadolig” of course is Nativity. I won’t even try to teach you how to pronounce the double-L in Welsh, but the “Llawen” carries the sense of “rejoicing” and “joy.”
How do you say “Merry Christmas” in Malagasy? {{Congregational Response}} [more laughter]
It’s “Tratry ny Krismasy.” Now the “Krismasy” part means. . . ? {{Congregational Response}} [Christmas]
. . . and the “Tratry” part means “to be caught.” So Tratry ny Krismasy means “Be caught at Christmas!” Now as Americans we certainly know how Christmas just seems to sneak up on us and catch us. I won’t try the Malagasy response, which is a lot longer than I can remember, but it means “May we all be caught by the next one!”
The words in each of these greetings convey slightly different meanings, and each language contributes to the richness of our Christmas vocabulary.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
These opening words in John’s Gospel immediately recall the opening words in the first Book of the Bible: “In the beginning. . . .” That’s because John wants us to understand that Jesus marks the beginning of a new creation. John also wants us to remember that in Genesis God creates the heavens and the earth by speaking: With the words, “Let there be light,” God creates the light, and God continues to speak creation into existence by his Word.
“. . . in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. . . . The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.”
Here’s what William Temple, a scholar, teacher, and the Archbishop of Canterbury from 1942-1944, wrote about this passage in his commentary on John’s Gospel:
“From the beginning the divine light has shone. Always it was coming into the world; always it enlightened every [one] alive in [their] reason and conscience. . . . All that is noble in the non-Christian systems of thought, or conduct, or worship is the work of Christ upon them and within them. By the Word of God . . . Isaiah, and Plato, and Zoroaster, and Buddha, and Confucius conceived and uttered such truths as they declared. There is only one divine light; and every [one] . . . is enlightened by it.”
These are pretty remarkable words for someone to write in the middle of the twentieth century, aren’t they? But that’s what John is clearly saying in his Gospel. Because of the Word, there isn’t a corner of the globe where the Word of God hasn’t already penetrated before the Gospel is ever preached there.
I have been reading this book by Brian McLaren, one of the leading lights in the Emerging Church conversation, titled Everything Must Change: When the World’s Biggest Problems and Jesus’ Good News Collide.
Toward the end of his book he describes a project to build a school in a small, isolated and marginalized mountain community in Argentina. The project began when a woman named Graciela took her family to the village during a vacation, and they immediately bonded with the people in the village. Graciela described one aspect of their growing relationship:
“You know, when we first came to the village, the people would never speak their native language in front of us. They were ashamed of their native language and would only speak Spanish. So we began to ask them to teach us words in their native tongue. They couldn’t believe that white people were interested in learning their language. That simple act of curiosity seemed to tell them that we weren’t just there to help them as some superior people helping inferiors. No, we were there because we genuinely loved them . . . . It wasn’t the resources we brought that made a difference. It was our presence. We were simply among them as people with hope, among them as people with love, and that made the difference.”
As many if not all of you know, I have been learning the Welsh language for almost a decade. People often ask me why on earth I want to learn Welsh― and most of the people who ask me are Welsh! And that’s because, like the villagers in Argentina who were made to feel ashamed of their native tongue by the dominant Spanish population, until the 1960s many Welsh people were ashamed of their language, too, after years of English oppression. To understand why, listen to this paragraph from a Royal Commission published in 1847:
“The Welsh language is a vast drawback to
The Malagasies have a similar history from their colonization by the French between 1895 and 1960. Even today, Malagasies are divided by those who speak French and by those who speak only Malagasy. In one of those ironies of history— or, rather, as an example of God’s subversive laughter— the Malagasies received their written language from Welsh missionaries.
“And the Word became flesh and lived among us.”
To rephrase Graciela’s words: “That simple act of incarnation tells us that Jesus wasn’t just here to help us as some superior person helping inferiors. No, Jesus was here because he genuinely loved us . . . . It wasn’t the resources Jesus brought that made a difference. It was his presence. He was simply among us as the bringer of hope, among us as one who loved us, and that has made all the difference.”
Alleluia! Unto us a child is born! O come let us adore him! Alleluia!
This sermon was beautiful and engaging. I loved the linguistic journey that took me first around the globe and then deep into my own heart. How wonderful to find it here again at St. Blogory's.
Posted by: Rives Collins | December 28, 2009 at 08:19 AM