Glory

The Reverend Paul Roberts Abernathy, Rector

The Word became flesh and lived among us. We have seen his glory.[1]

John, the evangelist, was a close friend of Jesus: at the crucifixion, caring for Jesus’ mother,[2] after the resurrection, sharing the Jesus-story with the world. With one word, John proclaims the meaning of Jesus’ birth: Glory.

We use “glory”, a universal word, like “love”, in many ways.

The glory of nature in the majesty of a sunrise or sunset, the energy of a storm, the delicate intricacy of a snowflake or flower.

The glory of intellect in the wisdom of philosophers and theologians who plumb the mysteries of the origin and destiny of life.

The glory of art in the genius of those who, from the seminal seed of an idea, create poetry and prose, painting and sculpture, music and song.

The glory of scientific discovery and medical inquiry, which, at their best, lead to the enrichment of knowledge and enhancement of the quality of life.

The glory of political power of the people in the revolutionary wave of protests that engulfed the Arab world beginning last December and, this past September, in the international Occupy Wall Street movement decrying social and economic inequality, and, contrarily, in the ubër-partisan modern Greek tragicomedy performing at the Capitol Theatre three blocks away.

When John says, “glory”, he means none of these things. Luke expressed it this way: “Mary gave birth to a son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, for there was no room in the inn.”[3] No ornate palace, but a dark, dirty stable. No opulent throne, but a filthy feeding trough for animals. No resplendent robe, but tattered cloth. Hardly glorious.

But birth was only the beginning. Glory grew up: Jesus of Nazareth inaugurating a public ministry, the heart of which he expressed, saying, “I came not to be served, but to serve”[4] – loving the disenfranchised, deprived, and despised; those who, in worldly terms, had not, could not, and were not.

In this season of celebration, do we want this kind of glory? I’m not sure. At a pivotal point in Jesus’ ministry he asked the people, “How can you believe (in God) when you accept glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the one who alone is God?”[5]

As a diagnosis of our human condition, this observation remains painfully appropriate. As I reflect on what we humans value, we largely still regard and revere the glory of self-interest, enshrining it as the chief good in the commerce of our human relationships, thus, self-sacrificial service becomes an after-thought, if it is thought at all.

Still, after two millennia, Christmas is not in vain. John, two millennia ago, could write, “We have seen glory” not only because he had seen Jesus, but because he had seen others whose splendor it was to serve. We see them, too. Whenever others with us and we with others sacrifice in offering the gift of ourselves, there, as the Word becomes flesh and lives in us, we see glory.