Advent: The Prologue And Relationships: 3, Jesus And Ordinary People (John 1:9-13)

John 1:1-18

Well, it’s that time of year when you can’t escape the Christmas songs in the shops wherever you go. I have a certain sympathy for those shop workers who are subjected to the same songs all day long on an hourly basis. Maybe they think that by the time they’ve heard Slade’s Merry Xmas Everybody for the eighth time that day, it must be close to the end of their shift.

And I grew up, surrounded by those songs. I remember the Slade record coming out, just as I also remember Wizzard’s I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday being released, along with Elton John’s Step Into Christmas and many others. Goodness knows, I was an adult by the time Wham’s Last Christmas and Band Aid’s Do They Know It’s Christmas found their way into the world.

But if I were to confess a soft spot for one Christmas single, no, it’s not Mariah or Cliff, but it might be Driving Home For Christmas by Chris Rea. I wonder how many of you will be driving home for Christmas. Or perhaps you are at home and other family members are driving home to you?

Do you look forward to seeing family at Christmas? I do. That sense of the wider family gathering is important to me.

But what we often miss is that Christmas is about family in another sense. John tells us the purpose of Jesus coming is to invite us into the family of God.

Yet many of us missed our own Creator coming into the world (verses 9-10). Even a lot of those who should have known better ignored him or rejected him (verse 11).

12 Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God – 13 children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.

So what does it take to become a child of God? Let me recount a story that appears in my book ‘Odd One Out’:

Many years ago, I used to meet a friend in central London and we would go to see movies together. We would always find somewhere to eat first and catch up with each other over a meal before heading for the cinema.

On one of these occasions, my friend suddenly said during the meal, “I’ve got something to tell you.” Putting on my best pastoral expression, I listened carefully.

What my friend said was this: “I was adopted as a child.”

Seeing the look of concern on my face, my friend continued, “Don’t worry, it’s all right, I rather like the fact that I know I was adopted. It means I was wanted.”

And that’s how we come into God’s family. We are not naturally children of God, as John says. So God adopts us as his children. And like my friend, he adopts us because he wants us.

In fact, he so wants us in his family that he sent his Son Jesus to bring the invitation personally to Earth. And when Jesus came, he knew that we had barriers we had erected between ourselves and God.

So Jesus took down those barriers. The shame we feel, rightly or wrongly, over our lives: nailed to the Cross. Our wrongdoing, when we do the opposite of what God loves: nailed to the Cross. Our weakness in the face of the forces of evil: nailed to the Cross.

What is there left for us to do? John tells us it takes two responses: receive Jesus, and believe in Jesus.

To receive Jesus is to receive him and all the gifts he has given us, including what I’ve just described, where he has taken away all the barriers between us and God.

To believe in Jesus is not simply to believe in his existence, but to trust in him. In fact, it is to trust our lives into his hands. Not only does he know what is best for us, he also enrols us on his adventure of making all things new. He has a purpose for our lives when we believe in him.

So this is God’s invitation to us at Christmas: to understand that Jesus has come with God’s invitation to join his family, because he wants us and loves us. And to respond by receiving all that Jesus gives us, and by entrusting our lives to him.

These things bring us into the family of God, and we join our brothers and sisters in the family who support us in our new journey.

The Diamond Jubilee And Living On Past Glories

So I flitted between repeats of Have I Got News For You on the Dave Channel and whatever was happening at the Diamond Jubilee Concert. It was altogether too ‘mainstream’ in its musical tastes for me (as I would expect). But here’s what struck me: you have the extraordinary visuals for Madness‘ wonderfully cheeky rendition of Our House:

Stevie Wonder got a bit confused between the notion of birthday and Jubilee:

And Paul McCartney certainly gave the gig a spectacular ending, not least with Live And Let Die (no, HRH, don’t take that literally about your mother):

But, but, but. What an embarrassment Elton John was. And I say that as someone who liked his early music. Well, the Seventies stuff, up to about the Blue Moves album. While I’ve posted the full performances above of Madness, Wonder and McCartney, I can’t bear to do that for Elt. The nadir, which epitomised the whole sorry performance, was Crocodile Rock, and it’s telling there are no decent quality clips of that track on YouTube this morning. I have a fondness for that shallow little song, because it brings back certain teenage memories. I used to co-edit a satirical school magazine in Sixth Form, and when our Physics teacher turned up one day in glasses for the first time, we ran posters around the school about Elton Vine and rewrote this song as Crocodile Clip. (I’ll pass on our deeply unChristian rewrite of Your Song as My Song.)

Crocodile Rock last night showed what has been obvious for years whenever Sir E H John has sung in public (at least, going on TV performances). He can’t reach the high notes any more. He tacitly admitted it by delegating the falsetto part not even to backing vocalists but to the crowd. McCartney and Wonder hit some bum notes, but they still had some decent range.

At the end of the set, the compère said Elton was someone who certainly knew how to put on a show.

He does. He just can’t sing anymore. Which is inconvenient but doesn’t get in the way. He’s living on past glories.

And we got something similar with the video montage of the Queen’s reign, set to the orchestral version of U2’s Beautiful Day. It all reinforced the ridiculous ‘Sixty Glorious Years’ slogan that has been repurposed from a 1930s film about Queen Victoria. Not that you’d expect an event like this to highlight Princess Margaret’s wild life, Randy Andy’s supposedly secret trysts with Koo Stark, the annus horribilis or the effect of Diana’s death on the royal family. There, too, like Reginald Dwight Esquire, we can live on past glories.

Not that we’d know anything about putting on a good show and living on past glories in the church. Oh, no.

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