Lectionary Commentaries for January 5, 2025
Second Sunday of Christmas

There is no infancy narrative, no temptation in the wilderness, not even a baptism. Instead, the mystical poetry of John’s prologue opens with the story of creation and the Word in whom is life. In the half of the prologue suggested by the lectionary for this Sunday before Epiphany, the Word-light pitches God’s tent of glory in the beloved and dangerous world and makes visible humanity’s true nature as the place where fullness of joy joins in the eternal, swirling dance of divine love.

Because the prologue is poetic and mystical, it moves us in a way that transcends thought. The glory of the Synoptic angels and star is expanded into a view from before time into forever. Then the “we” of 1:14 draws us into this cosmic love story of God and the world and every human in it.  

At the same time, the prologue offers us a portrait of this Gospel in nuce, so one way to enter its poetry and find there an infinity of sermons is to encounter it as a window into the world of this Gospel and let the Gospel unfold the prologue as the prologue opens the Gospel to us.

As our passage begins, the prologue moves from the preexistent Word of creation to the incarnate Word in the world, where this true light is not known and not accepted.  

The Word and the world

The word for “world,” kosmos, occurs 78 times in John (and only 15 times in the three Synoptics combined). The most famous verse in John tells of God’s love for the world (3:16). But the world is also a place of persecution (16:33), hatred (15:19), and ignorance (1:10; 17:25), and the ruler of this world will come for Jesus (14:30). Still, Jesus has been sent into the world to save it (3:17) and to testify in it to the truth (18:37), and he does not want his friends to be removed from it, only to be protected from the evil one in it (17:15). He wants the world to know what it does not know (17:23), and his opponents fear that the world will follow him (12:19).  

Even when the ruler of this world seems to have prevailed, the lifting-up of crucifixion will lead to that one’s demise (12:31–32) and to the eternal lifting-up of resurrection and ascension and the giving of another Advocate, the Spirit of truth, to empower, teach, and guide the friends of Jesus into their own testimony in the world (15:26–27; 16:7–15).  

The world’s final appearance in the Gospel is in its final verse, where the story of the incarnation of God’s love is revealed to be so much larger than what is written here that if it were all written down, the world itself could not contain it.

Conflict and love

While the unknowing world and the Word’s own community within it reject him, some receive him and believe in his name. The rhythm of conflict and glory, rejection by most and acceptance by a few (6:66–71), shapes the narrative of the Gospel. Already in John 2 the glory of the Cana wine is followed by the first Passover conflict in the temple. Finally, after repeated spontaneous attempts to stone Jesus (8:59; 10:31), it is his raising of Lazarus, whom he loves, from the dead that triggers the decision of the religious authorities to execute him (11:50–53). 

But before the final rejection of the passion, Jesus prepares his friends, in five chapters of comfort and teaching and prayer, for the continued glory and resistance to come, when those who have become “his own” (13:1) will continue to testify. They, and the ones who will believe in him through their word (17:20), are given power to become children of God, born from above (3:3–8) into a new perspective on the world, grounded in the love of the Father and Son, in which they also abide and which they demonstrate in their love for one another (13:34–35; 15:9–17).    

Glory and flesh

In 1:14, the children of God become a still more intimate “we” who have seen the glory of the Word-made-flesh living among them. And we also see the glory and are drawn into the abiding love of Father and Son with them, through their testimony (17:20–24; 20:29–31) and the presence of the Spirit (14:26; 16:13–14).

The verb for “lived” in 1:14 is based on the noun for “tabernacle” or “tent.” This evokes the tabernacle in which the glory of God dwells with the Israelites in the wilderness (Exodus 25:8; 40:34), and it points forward to the coming of God in Revelation 21:3, where this verb appears again. The word for “tent” or “tabernacle” appears in the Synoptic accounts of the Transfiguration, when the disciples see the glory of Jesus in conversation with Moses and Elijah. In John 1:14, the glory of the Word is fully present and vulnerable in flesh, a word that encompasses all of what it means to be human, but because this remains the life-giving Word, he is also full of grace and truth.

Testimony and truth

Here, the testimony of John the Baptist interrupts the prologue. The word for “testify” occurs 33 times in John (twice in all the Synoptics combined). A trial motif, introduced already in 1:7–8, will be taken up immediately after the prologue with the testimony of John and will conclude only in the Gospel’s final verse with a reference to the testimony of the disciple whom Jesus loved, which is the Gospel itself. 

“We” testify (3:11). The Samaritan woman testifies (4:39). The Father testifies (8:18). The works that Jesus does testify (5:36; 10:25). The scripture testifies (5:39). The crowd testifies (12:17). The Spirit of truth (the Paraclete, a legal term) continues to testify (15:26). “You,” including us, are to testify (15:27).

This testimony occurs in a narrative in which the truth is contested. While Jesus not only knows the truth but is so full of truth that he is the truth (14:6), he testifies in a world where the most powerful do not know what truth is and, therefore, cannot recognize it when it is staring them in the face (18:38). But even betrayed and persecuted, the Word-Son remains full of grace (curbing any inclination we might have to use truth as a cudgel). 

Jesus’ truth gives comfort and courage to the dismayed and grief-stricken (14:1–17:26; 20:11–28) and confronts those with the power to harm him—even when what might make them free instead makes them murderous. No matter what the confused world does, the response of the Word is glory, grace, love, and life.

The uncontainableness of love

The prologue concludes with a return to the union of God and the Word (1:1), expressed now as the love of Father and Son, a relationship echoed in the intimacy of Jesus and the disciple whom he loves (13:23). He makes Jesus known in his testimony (21:24), as the Son makes the Father known.

All those receiving his testimony, which is the Gospel itself, are also drawn into the lyrical, mystical love story of God. We also find ourselves there, sent into the world to love and to testify to the truth, which is not merely whispered in our ear but dwells in us in the form of the Paraclete. We also are fueled by the love in which we dwell as branches of the vine Jesus. We also deliver our holy piece of the infinite testimony, which is more grace, truth, and love than the world itself can contain.  

This uncontainableness of the Word-light-life, which we feel washing over us in the prologue and which fills us with love for the world—this is what we carry from Christmas into the light of Epiphany as our new year begins.

The origins of the phrase “afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted” are disputed, but it captures well the conflicting messages of the book of Jeremiah. Today’s lectionary passage falls squarely into the “comfort” category. It’s part of a section in Jeremiah 30–33 known as the “Book of Consolation.” Despite the recent destruction of Jerusalem, the prophet declares that hope isn’t lost, and offers tender words of divine compassion.

Poetry and hope

Jeremiah 31:7–14 doesn’t ignore its audience’s suffering. Only a “remnant of Israel” (verse 7) has survived and is now “scattered” in exile (verse 10). Understandably, the people “languish” (verse 12) and “mourn” (verse 13). Having experienced such trauma, they would not easily accept a message of consolation, especially from the God whom they blame for their suffering.

As poetry, Jeremiah 31 appeals to the audience’s imagination with soaring language and compelling images. Pictures of abundance and flourishing appear throughout the passage. God leads the returning exiles “by brooks of water” (verse 9) and makes “their life … like a watered garden” (verse 11). Abstract ideas like “the goodness of the LORD” are made concrete by enticing references to “grain, wine, and oil” (verse 12) and “fatness and bounty” (verse 14). Metaphors like “father” (verse 9) and “shepherd” (verse 10) reinforce God’s care and provision.

Given the harshness of their present circumstances, Jeremiah’s audience would find it difficult to imagine themselves in a happier state. So the poet does it for them. The text depicts them as “glad” (verse 7), “radiant” (verse 12), and “merry” (verse 13). It envisions a future for them filled with song and dance (verses 12–13).

At a time when many people are experiencing hopelessness and anxiety, the work of artists is more important than ever. Comforting the afflicted requires creative preaching and worship leadership that compellingly invite the audience to imagine themselves in different circumstances. It should incorporate music, visual art, and poetry that counter the dominant discourse of despair. Jeremiah 31 offers a master class in the kind of hopeful proclamation we desperately need in this cultural moment.

Welcome and accessibility

Along with its powerful imagery, Jeremiah 31:7–14 is strikingly universal in scope. It spans “the farthest parts of the earth” (verse 8) and “the coastlands far away” (verse 10). It also deconstructs ableism, sexism, and ageism by including “the blind and the lame” (verse 8), pregnant and young women (verse 13), and “old men” (verse 13) in its purview.

Inclusivity informs the depiction of a highway for returning exiles in verses 8–9. The text names two groups of people for whom the journey back to Jerusalem would be especially difficult: persons with disabilities (“the blind and the lame”) and pregnant women. (Blindness is sometimes portrayed as a mobility impairment in the Hebrew Bible; compare Deuteronomy 28:29; Isaiah 59:10; Zephaniah 1:17.^[1]) The highway is designed to accommodate their needs: “a straight path where they will not stumble” (Jeremiah 31:9).

This detail reveals God’s desire that no exile be left in Babylon simply because they cannot make the journey. Instead of expecting them to overcome environmental challenges, the environment is modified for maximum accessibility. Rebecca Raphael calls this verse “a proof-text for universal design.”^[2] It illustrates a key principle of universal design: Accommodations for persons with disabilities also benefit able-bodied persons, in this case pregnant women.

The remarkable accessibility of Jeremiah’s highway contrasts with an otherwise similar image in Isaiah. Isaiah 35:8 likewise envisions a highway for returning exiles, but it excludes a specific class of people, the “unclean.” Although it also refers to persons with disabilities, it requires that they be miraculously healed in order to make the journey (Isaiah 35:5–6).^[3]

Not only is Jeremiah’s inclusive vision striking for its time, but it also proves challenging in our day. Churches were among the most vocal opponents of the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990, citing the expense of modifying their buildings to meet accessibility requirements. Jeremiah 31:9 shows how far that attitude falls short of God’s intention for human flourishing. Many congregations today proudly declare how welcoming they are, but often that simply means their members are friendly. True welcome requires pervasive rethinking of everything we do, including building accessibility.

Exile as metaphor and reality

Exile is a central theme in the Hebrew Bible. The destruction of Jerusalem and forced removal of its citizens to Babylon dramatically changed how the biblical writers viewed themselves and God. Jeremiah 31 is one of many texts that try to explain why the exile happened or offer hope for a future beyond it.

In recent decades, some Christian thinkers have used exile as a metaphor for the church’s loss of social prominence in a post-Christian world. The concept resonates with many Christians’ sense of alienation in a society that doesn’t seem to share our values. This way of thinking appears already in the New Testament (1 Peter 2:11–12). We shouldn’t forget, however, that exile is a real, lived experience in biblical texts, not just a metaphor.

More than ever, people across the globe are being displaced by war, political and economic collapse, and climate disasters. The refugee crisis has become a hot-button issue in the United States and many European countries. Admittedly, it’s a complex problem without simple solutions. But we cannot in good conscience claim the hope of Jeremiah 31:7–14 for ourselves, while also marginalizing and mistreating contemporary exiles. Insofar as it’s in our power, we are called to make Jeremiah’s hopeful vision a reality for people today who share the circumstances of the text’s original audience.

Notes

1. Rebecca Raphael, Biblical Corpora: Representations of Disability in Hebrew Bible Literature, LHBOTS 445 (New York: T&T Clark, 2008), 14.
2. Raphael, Biblical Corpora, 129.
3. J. Blake Couey, “Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and the Twelve,” in The Bible and Disability: A Commentary, eds. Sarah J. Melcher, Mikeal C. Parsons, and Amos Yong (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2017), 245.

Psalms 146–150 comprise the fivefold doxology that concludes the Hebrew Psalter. The five psalms begin and end with “Hallelujah” (“praise YHWH”). The identical beginning and ending of the prayed poems reflect a common structure in Hebrew poetry, the inclusio or envelope structure marking the boundaries of the psalm. Many hearers/readers of the Psalms take “Hallelujah” to be a word expressing praise, but the form of the term is actually a plural active imperative verb calling the congregation to praise YHWH, in this psalm characterized as the one who reigns over the creation and the community of faith. 

Psalms 146–147 attend to the praise of individual worshipers and the community. The three concluding psalms sing of the praise of all creation. Psalm 150 concludes the Psalter with a great symphony of praise combining the praise of the congregation with the praise of the creation.  

A vibrant hymn of praise

Psalm 147 is a hymn of praise consisting of three powerful examples of the classic structure of Hebrew hymns of praise: imperative calls to praise followed by the reasons the community will sing praise to YHWH. The concluding “Hallelujah” renews the psalm’s call to praise for the congregation to carry with them in life’s pilgrimage of faith. 

Psalm 147 presents three clear examples of the standard form of praise in Hebrew poetry: the imperative call to praise followed by reasons for the praise (verses 1–6; 7–11; 12–20). These three parts of the psalm could each have been included separately in the book of Psalms but in this concluding fivefold doxology have been combined into one powerful hymn of praise. 

The reasons for praise constitute the praise of God in the psalm. We could summarize the praise in terms of singing and making music to the glory of God as creator, who reigns over the community of faith. Psalm 147 is a further step toward the great symphony of praise to YHWH that will conclude the Hebrew Psalter.  

A look at the text

The lectionary text is Psalm 147:12–20, but a brief look at the first two sections of the psalm would be helpful for context. The first section (verses 1–6) emphasizes the graciousness of YHWH toward Jerusalem. The reference is likely to the remnant returning after exile (“the outcasts of Israel”), characterized as “brokenhearted” and “downtrodden.” The gracious and powerful Creator lifts up the fallen. The second section (verses 7–11) celebrates divine faithfulness toward the covenant community in contrast to military power. God’s persistent fidelity offers hope even in the face of military speed and power (verses 10–11).

The third section of the psalm (verses 12–20) begins with a double call to praise and continues with a series of reasons for the praise, introduced by the characteristic Hebrew particle “for.” The first reasons for praising the divine are how YHWH attends to the specifics of the ancient covenant community (“gates,” “children,” “borders”). Verses 13–14 emphasize protection for living and for future generations, as well as generous provisions in the land of the community. Verses 15–18 emphasize that YHWH is creator of the world and creator of the covenant people of ancient Israel. The images portray God’s work in nature and seasons, and yet God is also the one who attends to the covenant community and guides its paths. 

The provision of wheat in verse 14 signals the move to creation, and the next three verses celebrate the power of YHWH as creator. Commentators are often reminded of the divine self-praise in Job 38–41. The final verses of the psalm move to divine word and command given to Jacob/Israel. 

The psalm includes both creation and covenant in ways that work together well. God provides for the covenant community in both history and daily life. God’s covenant relationship with the ancient community Jacob/Israel in history and God’s creation and provision for creation are both involved in the divine-human relationship in the praise of God in the Psalms. God reigns over both realms harmoniously.  

A summary conclusion

Verse 20 is a kind of summary conclusion for the whole psalm. In the praise of God in the Psalms, there is always reason for praising God. The concluding verse makes clear that God provides the covenant community with instruction for living. God is both the creator who blesses and the God who hears and comes to deliver. The psalm in the poetry of praise tells the story of how God has heard the need of the community and come to deliver, and has provided the blessing of creation for life. Verses 19–20 emphasize the covenant instruction (“statutes” and “ordinances”) for the community Jacob/Israel. These last verses offer an abundance of reason to join in the praise of God. 

The descriptive praise of God in Psalm 147 is comprehensive and vibrant. The community praises God for making life possible in deliverance, blessing, and teaching. Such vibrant praise of God pictures the history of divine life-giving care for the community, surely an important theme for the revelation of God in the season of Christmas focusing on the incarnation as the high point of that revelation. This blessing of the world has a long history of preparation as told in this psalm of praise; this psalm celebrates that history. It is a remarkable example of the vibrant praise of God in the Psalter and a fitting reading for the season of Christmas. 

A final reflection

I was reflecting on the significance of Psalm 147 and what it can do to us and for us, while driving this afternoon. We live in a culture of considerable chaos and division. This psalm calls us to join in the profound and joyous praise of God the creator and relationship-maker. Singing such praise brings to mind the long-standing memory and tradition of God as creator and redeemer and guide. Such participation in worship can renew in us hope, faithfulness, and care, and can enrich our downtrodden lives. The praise of God in the Psalms uplifts.  

Ephesians 1:3–14 offers a panoramic vision of what God’s love has brought into reality. In Greek, the passage is only one sentence, comprising just over 200 words. The New Revised Standard Version breaks it into six sentences. Try reading the passage in one breath and you’d be gasping by the end—that is part of Paul’s point: Jesus Christ makes plain that God’s plan is to bring everything together into the unity for which it was created. 

Believers in Jesus have been let in on the plan. Life in Christ is more than individualistic assurance that we will be taken care of on the day of judgment; it is the realization that we have been drawn into the drama of the universe’s restoration. Glimpsing the astonishing, comprehensive plan for wholeness that our lives are caught up in will make us breathless indeed!

Because of its massive theological vision, this text can be a challenge to preach. Many preachers will feel drawn to one image or phrase that they feel they can get a handle on and communicate effectively. No matter what form the sermon takes, preachers attending to this text should not shy away from the vision of God Paul offers—one that leaves people responding in the only way possible when we catch a glimpse of the glory we have been drawn into by grace: “Blessed be God!” (verse 3).

Several details of the passage can illuminate the preacher’s study, reflection, and preparation:

The subject of the long sentence is, unsurprisingly, God (verse 3). There is only one finite verb in the entire passage: “chose” (verse 4). This reflects the passage’s broader emphasis on God’s initiative in creation, redemption, and fulfillment. The passage unfolds by recording the way God has blessed us and drawn us into redemption by adopting us in Christ. By faith in Jesus, believers are now participants in the very life of God. 

Twelve times Paul refers to things that have taken place “in Christ” (or “in him,” or “in the Beloved” [New Revised Standard Version: “the One he loves”]). Paul’s language is consistently inclusive: the blessings of God belong to “us”; “we” have been chosen [literally “called”] to live for the praise of God’s glory (verses 11–12). Only as he concludes does Paul encourage the church directly: “In him you also heard the word of truth” and were “chosen” (verses 13–14). To come to faith is to be caught up into a drama, and Paul wants his readers—us—to get a glimpse of the larger story, and to be confident that we are in it together. 

It is common for the openings of Paul’s letters to preview the themes he will expound further on. While casting an expansive vision, these opening verses of Ephesians anticipate topics developed later in the letter: the initiative of the Father to redeem people and draw them into his family (2:1–10; 3:14–21); the priority of God’s grace (2:5–10; 3:7–10; 4:7–16); the family of God as marked by a unity that foreshadows the ultimate redemption of all things (2:11–22; 4:1–16) and that even now reflects in some ways the story of that redemption (5:22–6:9). 

Paul is a Jew writing to Gentiles (2:11; 3:1), but racial privilege is no source of division in the family established by the Father, Son, and Spirit (2:11–22). Paul’s inclusive language (we, us) is grounded in the unity of the body of Jesus Christ.

Several themes of Ephesians 1:3–14 are particularly important:

1. The plan of God the Father has been disclosed through our relationship with the Messiah (see also 1:16–23; 3:1–13). This plan reveals that believers are caught up in a drama involving every atom of creation, everything seen and unseen, everything spiritual and earthly. For many people, predestination makes God a micromanager. In Ephesians, predestination has nothing to do with a competition between human and divine will. God’s purposes and plan are the ground of our lives. The purpose of our stories becomes clear only when we see them in the light of revelation. 
2. The incarnation and resurrection of Jesus have opened Paul’s eyes to the manner in which God is surely reclaiming his lordship over everything (1:19–23). The ethnically unified church is a sign to the world and to all the spiritual forces that oppose God that the redemption and harmony of all of creation are unfolding even now (3:7–10). When Paul surveys the glory of God’s plan, he admits that the only story that can make sense of his life is the story of God the Father redeeming all of creation under the lordship of Jesus.
3. Brought into the plan of God, believers are adopted. Paul says this explicitly in verse 5, and it norms all of the family language in the letter as dependent upon the model of the Father-Son relationship that is central to God’s own life and the basis for the metaphor of adoption (verse 5; see also 4:13). Paul’s repeated expression that believers are “in Christ” captures how the Christian life is not hermetically sealed off from God or from Jesus. We are not alone; rather, we are now caught up into the life of God. 
4. The Christian life is first and foremost a response of praise. Paul sets out praise as the fitting response to adoption (verses 5–6), election (verse 12), and the inheritance of the Spirit as the seal of God’s promise (verse 14). Interestingly, these references to praise reflect, respectively, the work of the Son, the Father, and the Holy Spirit. Together, they emphasize the grace of God toward believers, and toward all of creation.

Paul’s vision of God as energetically, redemptively, and relationally engaged in the world runs counter to the disenchanted worldview that dominates the West today—what the philosopher Charles Taylor has described as a world enclosed in “the immanent frame.” Preachers can take heart that Paul’s original audience would have been stunned by the cosmic scope of his theological vision. Today’s preachers continue to herald this astonishing announcement. 

References

Lynn Cohick, Ephesians, New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2020).

For further reflection on ministry and discipleship in a disenchanted world, see: Andrew Root, Faith Formation in a Secular Age (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2017).