ONLY HUMAN

Scripture: Genesis 1:26-31; John 1:14-18

INTRODUCTION

I have heard it said by others, and sometimes I have said it myself, more often than not when I failed to meet certain expectations or things haven’t turned out all that well. Perhaps you, at one time or another, have said it too: “I’m only human.”

It’s a common excuse when we make a promise and don’t follow through. We say, “But I’m only human.” A husband forgets a wedding anniversary, and with a dozen red roses in hand seeking forgiveness and hoping for mercy, he confesses to his wife, “Dear, I’m only human.” A teenager backs into another car in the school parking lot, leaving a large dent in the bumper, and at dinner that night, she says with tears in her eyes, “Mom, Dad, I’m only human.” Maybe your closest friend has broken a confidence, and trying to make amends, he offers an apology: “I’m sorry for what happened. I guess I’m only human.” Or it could be that you were a little “too merry” at a Christmas party, and you called the hostess the next day to say, “I’m awfully embarrassed. I got carried away, but you know, I’m only human.”

It’s an expression we use to excuse all sorts and conditions of faux pas, frailties and foolish mistakes – “I’m only human.” But if we would stop to think about what we are saying, look in the mirror and reflect on the way God sees us, we might think twice about repeating that phrase over and over again. And in this Advent season, I can tell you without question that those words could not be said about Jesus. Because becoming and being human is what Advent and Christmas are all about.

As we continue to focus in this sermon series on the first chapter of the gospel of John, the author takes us all the way back to the dawn of human history: In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God and the word was God (John 1:1). That verse reminds us of the first words in the book of Genesis: In the beginning , God created the heavens and the earth. And the Bible tells us that after everything else had been made, God created human beings in His own image…male and female He created them (Genesis 1:27), and Behold, it was all very good (verse 31).

Notice please, there are no apologies, no excuses, no reservations in that ancient story about Adam and Eve being “only human.” To the contrary, God infused His own Spirit into their souls, gave them dominion over the rest of the earth and blessed them with His favor and the divine stamp of approval.

Moreover, the Latin ascription, “imago dei” – in the image of God – affirms that human beings were and still are the crowning glory of all creation, because God made us with the capacity to be related to Him. There is, inside each of us, a spiritual DNA which marks us as God’s children.

And that is why, after we fell flat on our faces in the Garden of Eden, that our Father in heaven continued to reach out to us…until finally, When the time had fully come (Galatians 4:4), He became one of us.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth, said John, which was his version of the Advent-Christmas Story in one simple, and yet profound sentence. The Christian author Glendon Harris has described it this way: “The divinity of God was made manifest in the humanity of Jesus.

That’s how much God loves us! Knowing that His children were lost in the darkness and struggling with sin, He sent His Son Jesus to live among us, to show us the light and to lead us back into His open arms again. And if you read every single word of the New Testament, from the gospels on through the book of Revelation, you will discover that the phrase “But I’m only human” isn’t there. That is so because God has revealed to us, through the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus, that becoming and being human is sacred to Him. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.

II.

So why is it so hard for us to see ourselves and others that way? If, as the Bible says, we have been created just a little lower than the angels (Hebrews 2:7), then why are we so insecure in our own lives and critical toward those around us?

It starts at an early age, you know. A little boy, watching his mother dress his five-year-old sister in an angel costume for the Christmas Pageant at church, says with a smirk on his face, “Boy, talk about miscasting!” Now how do you think that little girl feels?

Two sisters, after arguing all day about how much Santa was going to bring them, knelt down with their father beside their beds for prayers. “Dear God” the eight-year-old began, “bless Daddy and Mommy, bless our cat Samantha and our dog Winston.” The father prompted her, saying “Didn’t you forget someone?” The older girl glared across the bed at her six-year-old sibling and said, “Oh yes, dear God, and bless my ex-sister.” Not much encouragement there.

And sometimes, we as parents, in our busyness and self-preoccupation, forget that affirmation is what our children want and need from us more than anything else. A mother and father went Christmas shopping with their ten-year-old son. At lunchtime, they slipped into a restaurant and the waitress came up to take their order. The parents spoke up first and then the boy said, “I want a hot dog.” “No hot dog” his mother said. “Bring him something nutritious – maybe a salad or a chicken sandwich.”

The waitress, who had a mind of her own, looked at the boy and asked, “What do you want on your hot dog?” “Ketchup – lots of ketchup – and how about a glass of milk?” “Coming right up” replied the waitress as she walked toward the kitchen. The boy, who was surprised, looked at his parents and said, “Gee, she thinks I’m real!” (Adapted from a story by Dr. Frederick B. Speakman in his book of sermons, “Love Is Something You Do,” Fleming and Ravell, 1966).

Now, it may be oversimplifying to say that our sense of self-esteem as human beings is shaped mostly at home. But my hunch is that the promise we make as parents when our children are baptized, “to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord,” and the prayer we offer on behalf of those little ones, sets something sacred and self-affirming in motion: “O God, help us in our homes to honor You, and to love one another, as Jesus has taught us to.”

Wasn’t that what the poet Dorothy Nolte was trying to tell us when she wrote:

“If a child lives with criticism, she learns to condemn.

If a child lives with ridicule, he learns to be shy.

If a child lives with shame, she learns to feel guilty.

But if a child lives with security, he learns to have faith.

If a child lives with approval, she learns to like herself.

If a child lives with praise, he learns to appreciate.

If a child lives with acceptance and friendship, she learns to find love in the world.”

Listen: as parents and grandparents, as Sunday School teachers and youth leaders, as members of this congregation – we have a God-given opportunity and responsibility to lay a foundation for our children of love and acceptance, faith and affirmation which will make all the difference in their lives as they grow up. We need to tell them, just as our Presbyterian friend Mr. Rogers has told them over the television screen, that we “like them and love them just the way they are.”

What better time than now, during this Advent season, to focus on our children…and to remember what Jesus said to all of us who are grown-ups: Unless you become like little children, you cannot enter the Kingdom of God (Matthew 18:3)…which is surely true as we make our way toward Christmas.

CONCLUSION

Now before we close, I want to say a word to those of us who have some painful memories of our childhood days, of events and incidents from long ago which have made it difficult for us to grow up to become the joyful and faithful human beings whom God intends for us to be. And as I tell this concluding story, I hope and pray that you will soon find the healing power and the peace of mind which you seek.

Fred Craddock, who has preached from this pulpit, took a vacation with his wife Nettie in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee many years ago. He told about it this way:

“We were at dinner in a restaurant out from Gatlinburg called the Black Bear Inn. Early in the meal, an elderly man approached our table and said ‘Are you on vacation?’ I said ‘Yes.” ‘Where are you from?’ he asked. ‘We’re from Oklahoma’ I replied. ‘What do you do in Oklahoma?’ I said ‘I’m a minister.’ ‘What church?’ ‘The Christian Church, the Disciples of Christ’ I answered.

He paused a moment and said ‘I owe a great deal to a minister of the Christian Church,’ and pulled up a chair and sat down.

I said ‘Yes, have a seat,’ trying to make it seem like I sincerely meant it. ‘Now tell us about that minister.’

He said, ‘I grew up in these mountains but my mother was not married, and the whole community knew it. I was what was called an illegitimate child, and I was ashamed. When I went into town with her, I could see people staring at me, making guesses as to who was my father. At school, the children said ugly things to me, so I stayed to myself during recess and ate my lunch alone.

In my early teens, I began to attend a little church back in the mountains called Laurel Springs Christian Church. The minister had a chiseled face, a heavy beard and a deep voice. I went to hear him preach, but I was afraid that I wasn’t welcome since I was, as they put it, a bastard. So I would sit in the back and when the sermon was over, I would move out because I was afraid that someone might say ‘What’s a boy like you doing in a church?’

One Sunday morning, some people lined up in the aisle before I could get out and I was stuck. Before I could leave, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the minister. As I trembled in fear, he looked at me and seemed to be staring into my eyes. I knew what he was going to do. He was going to make a guess about whom my father was. A moment later, he said ‘Well boy, you’re a child of’…and he paused there. I knew it was coming, I knew he would hurt my feelings. And then he said ‘Boy, you’re a child of God. I see a striking resemblance.’ Then he swatted me on the bottom and said ‘Now, go and claim your inheritance.’ I left the sanctuary a different person. In fact, that was the beginning of my life.’”

Craddock was so moved by the story, he had to ask him “What’s your name?” He said “Ben Hooper.” And Craddock recalled at that moment that his own father had told him when he was a child how the people of Tennessee had twice elected as Governor a man named Ben Hooper.” (From “Craddock Stories” by Fred B. Craddock, Chalice Press, 2001)

I can’t say this for certain, but my guess is that as Jesus grew up, His mother Mary told Him the story about how he was born and who He was – the Son of God. And that is our story too, for we are all God’s children, created in His image as human beings, and He loves us with an infinite and everlasting love. So, my friends, , go and claim your inheritance!

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

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