The Cosmic Gift in the Cardboard Box

Welcome to this space of warmth and safety. Whether you come here with a heart full of joy or a spirit heavy with worry, all are welcome here. We gather to do what we always do, to search out scripture, any ancient text, not as a history book, but as a living poem that invites us into a deeper mystery.

The Cosmic Preamble

How do we enter into the cosmic realm of God’s dwelling? It is a question that boggles the mind. We are talking about a time before time, before chronology, a history before history ever began. The Good News we encounter today is not just for a specific date on a calendar. It is cosmic and timeless.

In the season of Christmas, we are used to celebrating the birth of the Christ in a very specific way. We usually look to the Gospels of Luke or Matthew. We picture a baby. We hear the crunch of hay, the bleating of sheep, and the cry of an infant in a manger. But John tells his nativity story differently. He does not tell us of a baby lying in a manger. Instead, he speaks of a cosmic outpouring of love and light which breaks into our world and our lives.

The opening of John’s gospel is tied tightly with the opening of Genesis. We recall that ancient rhythm:

“Then God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.”

We cannot read the opening of John without keeping these words of Genesis in our minds. John provides us with vital information about who Jesus is. This is not just a human teacher. This is the understanding of God as revealed at the dawning of creation. The cosmos reveals the light of God before there are humans to perceive it. The Light existed before we did.

The Gift We Didn’t Recognize

There is a popular sentiment we often hear which says you do not know what you have until it is gone. This echoes what is written right here in John’s gospel.

“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.” (John 1:10-11)

The world did not recognize the gift as a gift. Because it did not recognize the gift, the world did not accept it.

This allows for reflection on our part. What sort of things in our own lives do not look like gifts in the moment, but upon further reflection we wish we might have acted differently? What gifts have we rejected simply because they were not on our wish lists?

Perhaps we miss the divine presence because of our own blinders, our biases, and our labels. We come to God with a specific idea of what the Divine looks like, and if God shows up differently, we turn away. We don’t recognize it. How might we open our eyes to see the variety of perspectives, the depth of colours, and the diversity of humanity that God provides for us?

The Tale of Our Times

Chelsey Harmon provides a wonderful illustration from literature that helps us understand the world into which this Light shines. She points us to Charles Dickens’s novel A Tale of Two Cities, known for its famous opening lines:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”

But Dickens goes on to write:

“It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair…”

Dickens establishes a comparison that calls the reader’s attention to their present time. However, the Gospel of John packs a bit more punch. John acknowledges the darkness, the foolishness, and the winter of despair, but then John claims that the Light has walked right into the middle of it.

The Unexpected Box

On the flip side of rejected gifts, what gifts have we received that we were not expecting? It is usually these gifts that are life altering. They send us down an otherwise unknown trajectory.

Have you ever watched a child unwrap a gift? The delight and joy on their faces warms our hearts. But how often have we watched them ignore the expensive toy and instead play with the box the gift came in for hours on end? That is the unexpected gift. The joy was not in the object we thought was valuable, but in the humble container.

To us, the birth of Jesus has become perhaps a routine gift or celebration. We put up the tree, we sing the carols, we light the candles. While there is still much mystery and wonder to discover at Christmas, often things feel routine. However, the gift of Jesus is a radical and unexpected gift. No one expected God to intercede in such a way as to come and dwell among us.

The Creator of the cosmos did not come as a warrior or a king in a palace. The Light came in a fragile human form. The gift of Jesus continues to give, allowing us to see God’s glory, full of grace and truth, in ways which continue to astonish us.

Faith in the Wilderness

We see this struggle to understand the gift in the life of John the Baptist. In the weeks of Advent, we heard from John the Baptist a few times, and he is referenced here again in the Prologue.

John was the cousin of Jesus. He knew who Jesus was before all others. Through his own ministry in the wilderness, he set the stage for what Jesus would do. Yet, despite all of this, while later sitting in prison, John doubts. His vision and understanding of Jesus is interrupted by his suffering.

This is a comfort to us. Even the greatest prophets struggle to see the light when the world is dark. However, even in that moment of doubt while sitting in prison, John still turns towards Jesus, ready to accept that most radical of all gifts.

The good news of this passage is that through Christ Jesus we receive grace upon grace. God’s heart has been revealed, and it is a heart of love.

This is a gift that changes lives. It is a gift that breaks through the cracks of our stiff structures. It shines light into all the corners we try to keep hidden.

I leave you with this question: What shall we do with this gift of God? Will we leave it wrapped because it does not look like what we expected? Or will we open ourselves to the surprise, the wonder, and the cosmic light that dwells among us?

May you perceive the Light this week. Amen.