Christmas 2 Year A
Sunday, 4 January 2026
Professor Paul Foster
Today, more than ever, we need to hold fast to the Word made flesh, we need to be reminded of the loving purposes of God, and we need to behold that true light that came into the world for all humanity. As people of faith, we gather to read and mark the loving purposes of God from the first day until the promised Redemption brought through the holy child.

John 1:1-18 – Christmas 2
I would like to share with you some of the things that get discussed in the vestry before a service. Prior to the Christmas Day service it was decided that I would read the gospel. The reading was nearly identical to our gospel today, just a few verses shorter. One of my colleagues, Esther remarked, “we have all had a turn at reading John chapter one, John and I at the carols, and now you today.” She then said, “I wonder how it started that John’s prologue was read at Christmas. It is really quite a strange reading for Christmas isn’t it.” Those questions and observations set my mind running. Today, I would like to try to answer some of those questions. In advance, may I say, if you do not like this sermon, then please feel free to take it up with Esther afterwards – it has nothing to do with me, well maybe just a little!
The format of the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols in something close to the format we now have did not have its origin at King’s College, Cambridge. Rather, its first documented occurrence was in 1880 at Truro Cathedral, with the service led by the then Bishop of Truro, Edward White Benson, who later in 1883 was installed as Archbishop of Canterbury. The service concluded with the reading of John 1:1-14. However, it was not Benson who devised and wrote the service, that task was undertaken by the cathedral’s succentor (or the assistant to the precentor) – a very lowly member of the clergy. I wonder if you have heard of him? I can give you a clue, there is a very useful church building named after him. The succentor was a young clergyman by name of Somerset Walpole, later Bishop of Edinburgh from 1910-1929. So, the connection between the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols and this place is strong. However, I was certain the origin of reading John’s prologue at Christmas must be earlier. It transpires that the use of John’s prologue for Christmas Day was confirmed or ratified by the Council of Trent in 1570. However, still I was not satisfied. The Council of Trent had only ratified or codified a common practice, not introduced. My next thought (as I am sure is yours) was to look at the Synaxarion, the ancient lectionary of daily readings of the Orthodox Church. The very oldest of these manuscripts date from the sixth or seventh centuries. The beginning of John’s gospel was indeed a text of fundamental importance. However, it was not read at Christmas, rather it was read on what was then the first liturgical Sunday of the church year, Easter Sunday. I had drawn a blank there, but it was still significant that this reading was given such prominence. Instead, I decided to look into the liturgical history of Latin, or Western Christianity.
It appears that the formal celebration of Christmas commenced after the conversion of Constantine, with the date of 25 December being set in A.D. 336 by Pope Julius I, who became pope the following year. Maybe that was a fitting reward for “inventing” Christmas. However, earlier Christians had celebrated the birth of Jesus without a fixed date prior to this. By 354, a chronograph or gazetteer of dates describes 25 December as natus Christus in Bethleem Iudeae, “the birth of Christ in Bethlehem of Judaea.” Which gospel texts were read on that day remains unknown. However, it appears that sometime in the period from the sixth to eighth century the prologue of John became commonly read at Christmas. So, Esther, that is the best answer I can give to your first question of when John’s prologue started to be read at Christmas.
The second question is more perplexing. Why would one connect this text with Christmas. In some ways the Orthodox tradition of connecting it either with Easter Day or with the baptism of Jesus (due to its mention of John) is perhaps more understandable, although Jesus is not specifically recorded as undergoing baptism in the Gospel of John. But why read this text at Christmas? It does not mention shepherds or wise men, there is no reference to Mary, Joseph, or even Bethlehem. In many ways this text is a decidedly unChristmasy reading. Perhaps the only place where a possible Christmas-like element peeks through is the first half of verse 14, “and the word became flesh”, but immediately in the following verse we move to the adult life of Jesus with the Baptist testifying about Jesus.
If we look at the opening of the reading, it is apparent that its temporal horizon is not Christmas, but rather its scope is much grander. The opening words “in the beginning”, echo the first word in the Hebrew scripture, בְּרֵאשִׁ֖ית. Thus, the commencement of John’s Gospel resonates with the beginning of the creation story, but even this is insufficient for John’s understanding of the temporal dimension of the story being introduced. The gospel pushes us back prior even to the creation of the world, or any created things, and it takes us deep into the inner and eternal existence of God. A time, if time is even the right word, or to a stage when God and God’s word are in mutual coexistence. John can only describe this divine horizon in poetic language. We learn that the Word was with God, the Word was God, and from the very beginning that the evangelist’s mind can fathom this very Word coexisted with God. Then John moves forward to describe the role of the Word in the creation of all things. Here the resonances with the Genesis story, though brief, are probably strongest. It is stated that all things in the cosmos owe their existence to this creative eternal Word. In Greek philosophical thought the term Logos, “word”, denoted rationality, that is an articulate, guiding reason. However, in ancient Jewish thought, the “word” had a creative function. While intertwined with a certain understanding of God’s wisdom, the Psalmist could declare “by the word of the Lord the heavens were made” (Ps 33:6). Or in the apocryphal Book of Wisdom, God is described as the one “who has made all things by your word” (Wis 9:1). In comparison with the earthly realities of shepherds in Luke’s Gospel, or wise men and the flight from a malevolent ruler in Matthew’s nativity account, John’s Gospel lifts readers above the messy and mundane matters of the birth of Jesus. It reflects upon the eternal purposes of God, operative in and through the creativity of the eternal Word. For John, that creativity is not static, but enduringly sustaining, bringing life and light to all humanity. While acknowledging the presence of darkness or evil in the creative order, for the evangelist the light is undiminished and undefeated, dispelling all darkness in the brightness of it regenerative illumination.
Then, in our reading, the horizon shifts from the eternal to the temporal. The evangelist trades the vastness of cosmic eternity for the limited specificity of a moment in human history. That moment is when John the Baptist declares his witness. However, this is no ordinary moment, it is an occasion when worlds collide, when eternity intersect irrevocably with human history. Here a single human, declares the presence of the true light, a light that raises every person out of a benighted state and lead to an enlightened perception of eternal realities. The evangelist declares the presence of this transcendent light, which enables humans to be guided and illumined by the divine Word. At this point, the prologue turns from the overwhelmingly positive portrayal of the coming of the Word, to the reality that humanity’s response to the divine light is divided, and not altogether positive. Here the text begins to identify the Word more clearly with Christ. Although in the world, and responsible for the creation of the world, John tells readers that the world did not recognize him. Here the term “world” is used in two differing senses. First, it refers to the created realm of existence, and second it denotes humans who have alienated themselves from the enlightenment brought forth by the incarnate Word. The gospel writer pulls no punches. He notes that Christ was largely rejected by those who should have recognized him. However, that is not the end of the story. Becoming part of the divine family, being a child of God, is no longer constituted on the basis of lineage, prestige, or heritage, rather it is the gift of God.
At this point the gospel returns to the testimony of the Baptist. The content of that confession is breath-taking. The Baptist speaks a truth which is as simple, as it is deeply profound. The Word, that eternal Word, that partakes in the inner life of God “became flesh and dwelt among us.” At that moment, the infinite partakes of the finite, the eternal became temporal, and the divine lives as a human. These are truths that only the poetic language of the prologue can capture. This confession moves John to speak of the consequence of this incarnational act for all those who are born anew as children of God. It is a moment of revelation and participation. Those who see and believe in the Christ receive an abundance of grace, yet this is a new kind of grace and truth that comes only through Christ.
Our reading from Ephesians has a similar temporal horizon to that of the Johannine prologue. Readers are told that they have been chosen in Christ before the foundation of the world. They are informed that they have been adopted as God’s children by that grace bestowed through the beloved one.
There is much in the news at the moment that might make us feel that things are changing, and not necessarily for the better. The stabilities of previous decades seem to be constantly challenged, if not eroded. A spirit of openness towards others and a belief in a common humanity is being overridden with an inward-looking focus, coupled with a distrust of neighbours be they near or far. And the quiet tones of the peace-makers are drowned by the loud clamour of war-mongers. Our gospel reading takes as back into a point of time, a particular moment when the word became flesh, when the eternal came into the world with the light that enlightens humanity. While that act of incarnation consisted of eternal word becoming constrained in human flesh, it was also the moment that enabled all who receive that light to enlarge their human vision by grasping a glimpse of the divine purpose. The reading from Ephesians makes it clear that this incarnational act was not some last minute, final-ditch effort on God’s part to redeem humanity. Rather, that was God’s purpose from before the foundation of the world, that all might be holy and blameless before God in love. That same perspective is present in John’s prologue. At one level, the prologue says very little about Christmas. Yet, to the eyes of faith it is a reading that tells the whole expansive story of Christmas and the plan of God to embrace human finitude, in order that we might become children of the God who enfolds us in limitless and infinite divine love.
I suspect this was the reason why Somerset Walpole selected the prologue to be the final reading in the service of carols and nine lessons. If we were to miss the point in the first eight readings, then still the divine plan could be heard in its broadest scope in the final lesson. Yet, I think I can offer you more than a mere suspicion that this was Walpole’s intention. In the bidding prayer to the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols, he wrote the following: “Therefore let us read and mark in Holy Scripture the tale of the loving purposes of God from the first days of our disobedience unto the glorious Redemption brought us by this Holy Child.” Today, more than ever, we need to hold fast to the Word made flesh, we need to be reminded of the loving purposes of God, and we need to behold that true light that came into the world for all humanity. As people of faith, we gather to read and mark the loving purposes of God from the first day until the promised Redemption brought through the holy child. It is to that Child of Bethlehem, source of all being and eternal word, from whom we have received grace upon grace, along with all who have gone before us who dwell upon another shore and in a greater light, that we offer our praise to the Word made flesh this day and throughout all eternity. Amen.
Brief account of the life of Somerset Walpole
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somerset_Walpole
History of Nine Lessons and Carols
https://www.churchtimes.co.uk/articles/2020/18-december/features/features/nine-lessons-and-carols-it-all-began-in-truro
