Dec. 27 sermon by Garrett

Merry Christmas to you all.

I have been thinking of what to get you all for Christmas. That perfect something that you would never buy for yourselves, but that thing that I know you secretly, in your heart of hearts, truly want.

Fellow Christians, Rejoice, today I give you a short sermon!

And in some ways a short sermon is just what today calls for. We have just sung such a beautiful song, maybe my favorite Christmas tune: "Of the Father’s heart begotten" – so resonant and elegant. And we have just heard one of the great texts of the New Testament read. Huge, magnificent themes discussed:

The Trinity, the Incarnation, Judgement and Sin. Whatever goes unanswered in our time together, I know Lou will be free during coffee hour.

So we've been following the wise men, and the shepherds out to the stable – we were met with the earthy aromas of barn-life, and we saw the crying teenager giving birth, and the confused father trying to make sense of it all. So Matthew and Luke narrate for us.

St. John you may have noticed is a bit different. This morning’s text leads us to the same scene, the same event, except that on his telling we see the stable in a different light: from a divine perspective.

The Word has been born in our midst. In the unlikeliest of places, in a stable on the edge of the Roman empire. And the Word has become flesh for us, you and me, brothers and sisters here at St. Paul’s.

Here it is: we are asked here this morning to marvel at the mystery of mysteries: God and humankind, joined at last.

It’s such an unlikely event, and in some ways we may be overly familiarized to it all.

Allow me to offer you one poignant image that I came across in the last week that has allowed me to ponder John chapter 1 in a new light.

David Leventhal is a professional dancer in New York City at the Mark Morris Dance Group. I have grown to love this man in the past few days after watching a documentary featuring some of his work called “Capturing Grace.” Leventhal gets the idea that dance is not just for dancers, but for everybody, even the most bodily infirm. This great documentary tells the story of Leventhal leading a dance class for those suffering from Parkinson’s Disease.

We know the disease, it’s terribly debilitating effects - maybe you've known or loved someone affected by it. Limbs move involuntarily, and one can become separated from one’s emotions, and I imagine this all to the extreme embarrassment and shame of once successful and able-bodied people: the fluidity that many of us are able to take for granted is a foreign experience.

David Leventhal gets this idea: people suffering from PD may struggle to walk and gesture with naturalness, but surely they can dance, surely they can allow their bodies to move to music. The caption on the cover of the movie says it all: there are no patients, only dancers.

It’s a stunning documentary, and as it follows the community over the course of a year, you see both the nervousness of former professionals executives, but you also see how in Leventhal’s presence stiff bodies come to life, and deep and rich community is formed. The things they become capable of is amazing.

I watched this just this past week, and I couldn’t help but think about our gospel text. What if we read John 1 with the help of Leventhal and his fellow dancers?

Allow me to offer you this reading.

The Word became flesh. The Word came to people who were otherwise immobilized and stiff with fear; a people who had forgotten their own elegance and dignity. The Word shone into the darkness of their lives, and called them into a community of vulnerability and trust.

And while they were once afraid and disconnected, embarrassed even by their own humanity, he told them that they were all children of God; that no matter what the world had told them: they were not patients but dancers.

This message didn't always come easily to them - as the text says, they weren't always perfect at receiving the light.

But as they began to trust one another and to trust their Instructor, their bodies loosened, and they began to dance, and the “grace upon grace” that he showed them, flowed out from their community and enriched the lives of those around them.

It's my prayer that we may find ourselves in this story, and that our world may find itself compelled to join. Amen.

Watch the trailer for "Capturing Grace"