Christmas Day III C (John 1:1-14)

On this Christmas Eve, we reflect on the gospel of St. John. To summarize its essential message, we could say:

“The Word that was in the beginning, was with God, and was God, became flesh and lived among us.”

This leads us to an important question: “What is this Word?”

Before we quickly answer “Jesus,” let’s pause and think a bit deeper. In church, the answers to most questions are probably 95% Jesus and 5% Holy Spirit, but the original Greek term for "Word" is logos. I shared some of the history and meaning of logos in my sermon on December 31, 2023. I’m sure you all have excellent memories—does anyone recall what we discussed and care to share? Of course, we won’t go there. 

To briefly summarize: the term logos dates back to the 6th and 3rd centuries BCE. “Logos refers to both the rational principle that governs the universe and the faculty of reason within individuals, often equated with nature, Providence, or God. In Stoic philosophy, logos also manifests physically as pneuma, the “vital breath,” a life force that animates all living beings and even holds inanimate objects together. As poet Dylan Thomas beautifully phrased it, logos is ‘the force that through the green fuse drives the flower.’”(Paraphrased from Gregory Hays’s instruduction in Meditations: A new translation)

St. John intentionally uses the term logos, or Word, to capture something greater than anything that exists in the world. It is the fundamental essence that is eternal, giving life to all beings. Given this, it’s likely that John was familiar with the Stoic use of logos as pneuma, which translates the Hebrew term ruah—a word meaning "spirit" or "breath." So far, we’ve touched on four key terms: Word, logos, pneuma, and ruah—each from English, Greek, and Hebrew.

Returning to our original question: What is the Word? This seemingly simple yet profound question reminds me of a Zen koan. For those unfamiliar, a koan is a paradoxical riddle or anecdote used in Zen Buddhism to demonstrate the limits of logical reasoning and to provoke spiritual awakening. One famous example is: “Show me your original face before you were born.”

In a similar way, the question "What is the Word?" could be rephrased as "What is the sound before any word was spoken?" This Christian koan, now enriched by our reflection on logos, invites us to explore the mystery of the Word in a deeper, more contemplative way. The Word we’re pondering may not be a literal word, but that which is alive, real, animating.

So, how would we respond to this koan, "What is the sound before any word was spoken?" And one more question: "How do we hear that sound?"

Moses, I think, heard it (Exodus 3:13-15). He listened to it at the scene of the burning bush. We are given a narrative form revised and redacted from the Book of Exodus. Also, the version we are aware of comes through translation, another form of interpretation. At the burning bush, which was not consumed in his contemplation, Moses heard that sound. In deep silence and stillness, he listened. The only sound in that concentrated moment of quietude was his breath. Breathing in and out. The divine dance of in and out flowing through all the pores of his body. That effable sound of the breath, he writes as YHWH.

This would be the sound before any word is spoken. That would be the Word: logos, pneuma, ruah. This Word is the breath God breathed into the nostrils of Adam after forming him from the dust of the ground (Genesis 2:7). This same breath is the very last breath of Jesus on the cross: "Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last" (Mark 15:37; Matthew 27:50). And this breath is the same breath that the risen Christ breathed on the disciples, saying, "Receive the Holy Spirit" (John 20:22).

First Breath Last Breath by Antler

When a baby boy is born
     and the midwife
                 holds him up
     as he takes
                 his first breath,
Place him over
     the Mother’s face
                  so when the baby exhales
     his first breath on Earth
                  the Mother breathes it.

And when the Mother dies,
     her middle-aged son
                  the baby grew up to be --
     by her side,
                  his head next to her head --
Follows her breathing with his breath
      as it becomes shorter,
                  and as the dying Mother
      exhales her last breath
                  her son inhales it.

The first breath is the birth itself. On this day, we remember and celebrate the Word, the breath that birthed Jesus. This birth, this first breath, is still with us and in us, the Word becoming very flesh in our body in a literal and biological sense, symbolized by Baby Jesus. The breath Baby Jesus took is the same breath we are breathing in and out, in and out. The Word continues to become flesh in the body of Christ, in you, me, and us. This Word thus is a verb, an activity. 

Mary Oliver, in writing metrical poetry, says it is about breath: “Breath as an intake and a flow. Breath as a pattern. Breath as an indicator, perhaps the most vital one, of mood. Breath as our own personal tie with all the rhythms of the natural world, of which we are a part, from which we can never break apart while we live. Breath as our first language...It is as good as a language. We sigh, We pant. We reveal ourselves.” (Rules for the Dance, p. 3)

Every time we greet one another with "Merry Christmas," can we honor the breath we’re taking in and out? It’s the same breath Baby Jesus took for the first time as soon as he was born. It’s the same breath Jesus breathed for the last time on the cross. It’s also the same breath he breathed upon his friends. The Breath of God is within us, the true grace of the Incarnation—the Word becoming flesh in you, me, and all of us, through you, me, and all of us.