Ephesians 1. 3-14; John 1.1-18
As we continue to celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas at the beginning of a new calendar year, the Church, again, brings before our attention that wonderful Christmas Gospel reading of John’s Prologue: in the beginning was the Word, the Word which became flesh, and dwelt among us. This morning, I want to say something about the humility of the Divine Word which became flesh in Jesus Christ. I want to say something about the humility of God.
It is no exaggeration to say that the moral imagination of the ancient world was radically upturned by the Christian Gospel. To paint in very broad brushstrokes, it would be fair to say that the civilizations of antiquity had a great pre-occupation with pretensions to certain privileges, powers, and pedigrees. It was a world in which society was divided into different stations, where there was a great emphasis upon one’s pedigree or class, one’s provenance or special relations to the gods, which expressed itself in the desire to be memorialised, the desire to have an immemorial name.
We need only refer to St Paul’s correspondence with the Corinthians to see the obsession with reputation and status that was prevalent in the pagan world with which the Gospel came into contact in its first days. As Paul put it, the proclamation of Christ, the Wisdom of God, crucified upon the cross, was one of utter foolishness to the Greeks, it was something to be derided and despised.
In other words, the first proclamation of the Gospel was into a world where humility was a virtue that was neither esteemed nor honoured.
But in these Twelve Days of Christmas, it is precisely the humility of the Word – who was with God from the beginning, who is God from all eternity, and who stooped down to take our human flesh – it is this that we celebrate.
At the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, which is built upon the site traditionally thought to be the place where Jesus was born, the main entrance to the church is through the ‘Door of Humility’. This door is only about four feet high, and it forces all visitors to the church to bow down to the ground if they want to enter. This door is a reminder that the Incarnation is a moment when God – the infinite source of all being – bows down to us his creatures.
More than that, God so humbles himself that he empties himself of the glory that he has by right. He regards the superabundant riches of his divinity not as something to be exploited, but as something to be poured out into the poverty of our human nature. And such is the depth of his self-outpouring, that he does not simply regard our human nature as a special object of his attention, but he takes it to himself. He unites it to himself in Jesus Christ so that from that moment onwards, he will be personally associated with that human nature himself.
And so, at Christmas we see that humility is a uniquely privileged window through which we glimpse the depths of divine love. The Incarnation reveals that humility is the way in which God conducts himself toward the world, as he empties himself of the glory that he has by right, and takes the form of a slave.
This humble self-outpouring simply is who God is from all eternity. God the Father simply is God as fully expressing himself, and as fully giving himself in his Word, the eternal Son. He is God, not as self-contained, not as holding onto his glory proudly or selfishly, but as fully bestowing it upon another, the Son of his infinite love.
And the humility of God is also present in the depths of the divine identity of the Word, who is only God as the one who receives all that he is from the Father. In the inner life of God, the Word is the fullness of the divine life in the mode of receiving. That is, it belongs to the very identity of God to receive from another. And so, as St Paul puts it in the first reading this morning, from before the foundation of the world, God has destined us to be conformed to the image of his Son, inasmuch as we have been ordained to have his blessing and love lavished upon us too.
The incarnation of the Word is that moment when God bows down to us his creatures, and it reveals that humility is fundamental to who God is.
As St John puts it in the majestic prologue to his Gospel, in Jesus Christ is the light and life of all that has been brought into being. And so, the humility of the Word made flesh does not only show us what God is like, it also shows us what it truly looks like to be fully human. The humility of the Word made flesh shows us that our life is to be defined by the fact that we must humbly receive it from another.
The proclamation of the Christian Gospel in ancient society, and its insistence upon the God of humility, who takes flesh in Jesus Christ, was an offense to the wisdom of the world. And, if we are honest, it is a fundamental challenge to us too. Whether we recognise it or not, our lives are so often characterised by pride and self-importance. We are routinely obsessed with our status, reputation, power, and influence. We can dress it up, rationalise it, explain it away – and we are all very good at doing this – but if we are really honest with ourselves, humility is not something that we relish.
And this should disturb us, for as St Paul is fond of saying, God opposes the proud, and gives grace to the humble.
But as St John says in the Gospel today, to those who receive the Word made flesh, to those who are prepared to receive the God of humility, power has been given so that we might become children of God. Of course, by our baptism into Christ we have been adopted as God’s children by grace. But we must also become God’s children by walking in the way of humility. We must become the children of God by becoming conformed to the image and likeness of his eternal Son, Jesus Christ.
At the beginning of this new calendar year, let us pray for grace, that our pride may be overcome, and our lives echo the beautiful music of the angels, who sang of the humility of God, revealed in the Word made flesh.