I got the impression the other day that Christmas may soon be here. And with Christmas comes the Christmas Story, which – frankly – raises one of the thorniest theological issues that the Christian Church ever wrestles with. We call it the ‘incarnation,’ although that is a kind of forbidding term to some folks. It really should be a pretty user-friendly term for anyone who knows what it means to order “chili con carne.” If ‘carne’ means ‘flesh,’ then the ‘incarnation’ points to our story of Christ ‘becoming flesh’ at Christmas. And if we say that Christ ‘became flesh’ instead of simply being ‘born’ like the rest of us on our birthday, then we are assuming a kind of existence of Christ prior to the first Christmas. And there’s the rub.

The ‘pre-existence’ of Christ doesn’t get a lot of print in the New Testament. Most of the gospel stories are about the period between Jesus’ life and death, with a few indications of Jesus’ presence after his resurrection. And most of the letters of the New Testament are about Jesus’ resurrection presence, with just a few indications of what happened between his birth and death. Only occasionally are there references in the New Testament to Jesus’ existence before his birth. John speaks of it in the passage that we have read together. Paul speaks of it when quoting what seems to be an early Christian hymn about how Christ “was in the form of God” and “emptied himself” when taking on human form. And the book of Revelation has regal sayings of Jesus, calling himself “the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last.” So, there are occasional references to the pre-existence of Jesus before Christmas, but they are fairly minimal.

Nonetheless, the pre-existence of Christ before his birth was a challenge for the early church, particularly as they tried to name the relationship between Jesus and God. The Nicene Creed was a 4^th Century attempt to name this relationship this way:

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God,

eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God, begotten, not made,

of one Being with the Father; through him all things were made.

For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven,

was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary

and became truly human.

That’s quite a mouthful and there are loads of wisdom, controversies, and doctrinally important statements within that brief reading, each of which try to express the mysterious connection between the pre-existing Christ and the baby that is born in Bethlehem. Needless to say, the inscription of the Nicene Creed did not clarify every idea or settle every question about the incarnation of the Christ. It was a faithful attempt, using the best available resources on hand in language and conceptualization to express a mystery.

As we enter into the season of Advent, we consider with Mary what manner it means to say that this newborn baby is, at the same time, “God with us.” However, I invite you to consider this moment in a different manner than our forebears in Nicaea practiced. Where they seemed to focus on conceptual precision, I invite you into a much more fluid way of doing theology. We will not try to produce static and final concepts about the incarnation. Instead, we will encounter the incarnation through practice, which has an ongoing and open-ended process involved. So, here we go.

The Gospel of John begins with a “prologue,” part of which we have read together this morning. In that prologue, John writes about the “Word,” using two descriptions that seem conflicted. The Word was ‘with’ God; and the Word ‘was’ God. “The Word was ‘with’ God” indicates that the Word is ‘not God,’ that the Word and God are separate entities, because the Word is ‘other’ than God. And, “The Word ‘was’ God” indicates an identity, that the Word and God were one and the same. Do you see how these two claims, held together, raise questions? Some would call it the nonsense, some would say that is it a contradiction, and others would simply attribute this kind of writing to religious sentiment that is outdated and made irrelevant by modern consciousness. I would argue, however, that most of the criticisms against holding these two claims together are rooted in the same kind of static concepts that are in the Nicene Creed. In contrast, we will pursue an open and fluid way of embracing the phrase “The Word was and was not God.” We will not approach it through concepts, but through practice.

Our own Jackie Crouch had a vision this year for knitting scarves for the people whom we serve at the Central Iowa Shelter and Services, who spend much of day and many of their nights battling the winter cold. That’s it, just a ‘Do something about it’ vision. That vision has invited a host of people to get involved and it is wonderful and we’ll hear from Jackie about it in a little while. I’d like for us to reflect on the mystery of John’s prologue by reflecting on one aspect of this practice of making scarves. Like most other forms of creativity – and John’s prologue is all about God’s creativity – the act of creating begins with an idea. And that is where we want to focus today, on the idea. In fact, when the Gospel of John begins with its emphasis on the “Word,” our term “idea” is one way that we could translate this curious philosophical term, logos.

Think of a knitter, starting on a project of knitting a scarf, when we hear the words “the Idea’ was with God and the Idea was God.” Think of the long-time knitter who no longer relies on patterns, but has in mind the idea for a particular kind of scarf. Is that idea the same as the knitter? Of course it is. That idea is the result of a lifetime of experience, a wealth of mistakes, a bundle of attempts that either work or don’t work, as well as the knitter’s own creative way of putting all of those impulses and intuitions together into a workable possibility. That idea reflects the knitter’s penchant for certain types of color, certain types of yarn, even certain types of stitches and patterns. That idea is unique and, as such, it is expressive of the knitter’s own skills and personality. In that respect, the idea of the creative work is the same as the knitter’s own person.

On the other hand, the idea and the knitter are different. That idea will become a real thing in time and it may be a gift, it may be the knitter’s own way of staying warm, it may be an item for sale. Either way, at some point, the knitter will encounter the idea that is made real as something ‘other’ than the knitter. And, in that respect, from the very beginning the idea itself has been something ‘other’ than the knitter. It was not just a passing whim, but a creative idea that found its realization in a scarf. Its whole purpose was to become something other than the knitter.

The Idea was, and was not, the same as the knitter. With that experience in mind, we hear John’s gospel saying something wonderful – not nonsensical or ridiculous – when John speaks of God’s creativity and says,

“In the beginning was the Idea,

and the Idea was with God,

and the Idea was God.

The Idea was in the beginning with God.

All things came into being through the Idea,

and without the Idea not one thing came into being.”

God invites us into this wonderful activity of imagining and creating, when the Word becomes Reality among us. So, as the season of Advent begins, as Christmas nears, we are invited to participate in this glorious act of creativity. Whether we are knitting a scarf, arranging a fruit and cookie basket, decorating a tree, or preparing a gift, we are invited to be part of God’s act of creativity, to allow our creative imaginations to flourish and, in so doing, to share that part of ourselves with others. Thanks be to God. Amen.