The Power to be Born

The Power to Be Born
John 1:1-18
Christmas Eve 2021
William G. Carter

¹²But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, ¹³who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. 

Of all the occasions when I have read this text, I’ve never paid much attention to a phrase in the 12^th verse: He gave power to become children of God. As I read it tonight, the inference is clear: Christmas is for children. Not just the little ones, the chronologically advantaged. Not merely the ancient ones, either, who are now dependent on others for their meals and their care. Christmas is for anyone of any age who is becoming a child. 

It's a striking phrase, not only because it’s a metaphor. It’s striking because there aren’t a lot of kids in the Gospel of John. I could only find one, at the end of chapter four and he’s offstage. It’s a sick little boy in Capernaum healed by Jesus from a distance. He’s the only official child in John’s book.

By contrast, Jesus refers to his followers as children. In chapter 13, he says, “Little children, I’m going away (13:33).” In chapter 21, he returns to say, “Children, have you caught any fish?” (21:5). In the kingdom of God, there aren’t any adults. Only children.

Some say Christmas comes only for children. That depends on what you mean by Christmas. The holidays do become quieter as we age. Old folks like don’t miss the five AM wakeup shake, the shouts of excitement before a slug of coffee, the ripping of wrapping paper, the loud toys, and all of that. These days, my favorite Christmas memories come from sleeping in, having brunch before opening a single package, and sitting quietly by a well-lit tree before the shepherds show up.

The Gospel of John describes Christmas by declaring Jesus “gave power to become children of God.” Maybe he anticipates the words of G.K. Chesterton, the Catholic curmudgeon. Chesterton said, “The great majority… will keep Christmas with Christmas gifts and Christmas benedictions; they will continue to do it; and suddenly one day they will wake up and discover why. That’s what Christmas can do to us.

John calls it “becoming children.” He couldn’t announce it at a better time. The news organizations have written their annual Christmas article about how many fewer people believe in all of it. Self-affirmed Christians in our nation stand at about 63%. My professional opinion is that 37% have decided to be honest.

Becoming a child is challenging work, especially in a world that teaches us to claw your way to the top, hate our enemies, and consume everything we can get our hands on. It gets no easier when you discover the hypocrisy of those who wave their religiosity in our faces; but tonight is not the time to discuss that televangelist in Texas who pays no taxes on his $6 million mansion, or the salacious habits of the now-former president of a religious college, or those who spout pious platitudes but have otherwise lost their minds.

No, we’ll let that go… and explore what it means to become a child.

Admittedly it is a confusing notion, becoming a child. A couple of pages after John says it, he tells of a man who’s confused. He’s a lifelong religious expert, well respected, but something’s missing. Jesus says, “You have to be born from above.” Nicodemus says, “Can somebody like me climb into my mother’s womb a second time?” No, silly. Birth doesn’t happen through our climbing. Birth is a gift. A complete gift. A Christmas gift.

Nobody chooses to be born. Not one of us. Life is a gift. The life of eternity, which John describes, it’s a gift. You can’t strive for it. You can only open your hands. There is a seismic shift from perceiving life as an achievement to affirming life as a gift. It’s the move from something we do to something God does. Rather than achieve, we receive. When this shift is made, gratitude awakens. Trust is built. Love blooms. Life opens up. That’s the essence of how John understands faith: it’s trust, gratitude, love; an open hand, an open heart, an open mind – all of it open to what God is doing.

A good friend asked the Nicodemus question, “How can this be?” I smiled and said, “Yes.” He protested, “But what must I do?” My Gospel of John response: “Let God do the doing. Hang on. Trust that. Receive that.”

See, that’s the essence of Christmas. You and I weren’t waiting for a Messiah, and then God gave us one. And he came to his own folks, the ones who would know him best, and they decided they didn’t want him. But he came to them, they got rid of him, and he came back after they got rid of him, and he’s still around, patiently waiting for us to receive him as a gift. This is all God’s doing; we haven’t initiated any of it.

And it returns us to what it means to become a child. Trust – that’s the true meaning of “belief.” That Latin word “credo,” from which we get the word “creed,” it means “I give my heart.” I give my soul, my mind, my strength. It’s all that God asks of us. And if we listen, it’s all that God is working in us. This is the “power” to become a child of God.

So lean back and let Christmas happen to you. Let the music surround you. Let the joy lift you. Let the love reach you. And then, pass these gifts along. Tonight, the fullness of God’s life comes to this time and this place. It’s for you. It’s for all.

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.