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January 1, 2012, The Circumcision of Christ (The Holy Name) All Souls’ Church, Stewart Clem The circumcision of Christ" And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child, his name was called JESUS, which was so named of the angel before he was conceived in the womb” (St. Luke 2:21). Today we celebrate the feast of The Circumcision of Christ. It’s not what you’ll find written on most calendars in the square that’s dedicated to January 1st. But it’s the day that the Church has set aside for us to meditate on this seemingly obscure event in the life of Christ. The event of Christ’s circumcision gives us an opportunity to reflect more deeply on the mystery of the Incarnation. The “Incarnation” is the strange claim that God – the Word, the divine Logos, the God of Israel – became flesh. It’s easy, with all the sentimentality that surrounds the Christmas season, to forget just how scandalous this idea really is. In the words of St. Paul, the idea that God could become a human being is “a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks” (1 Cor. 1:23), and it doesn’t seem any easier for modern-day Episcopalians, either. I was reminded of this when I recently came across a Christmas devotional, written by an Episcopalian, that said that those of us who struggle to believe the Christmas story should not be asking, “Is it true?” but rather “What does it mean?” I’m sure this author meant well, but the problem is that the Incarnation isn’t an idea. It’s a human face. It’s the face of a baby who was born 2,000 years ago to Jewish parents in the city of Bethlehem. A baby who was named and circumcised exactly eight days after he was born, because his parents were faithful Jews who observed the Law. We all know how easy it is to ignore things when they remain abstract. Most of us at least pretend to be concerned about things like “war” and “the economic crisis,” because we know we’re supposed to be. But often these realities don’t become realities for us until they hit close to home. Maybe not until a family member is deployed to Afghanistan, or when your boss tells you, “We’re very sorry, but we’ve taken a hit this year, and we’re going to have to let you go.” The Incarnation is like that – it’s easy to turn it into a nice idea, but if we’re paying any attention at all, it hits close to home no matter who we are. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” God himself has “tabernacled” or “set up tent” in our midst. It’s an invasion, and we can’t simply ignore it. Dorothy Sayers compares this to a playwright stepping onto the stage during the performance of a play, not to assume the role of one of the characters, but as himself. It wasn’t in the script. The actors have no idea what to do, and they can’t just keep going on as if nothing had happened. And we can’t just keep going on as if nothing has happened. Christ’s Incarnation changes everything.
So how does this event in Christ’s life – his naming and circumcision – call us to deeper reflection on the meaning of the Incarnation? St. Luke is the only Gospel writer who even mentions this event, and all that we have in his account is this single verse: “And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child, his name was called JESUS, which was so named of the angel before he was conceived in the womb” (2:21). In order to capture the full significance of this event, we have to do two things: we have to look backward and we have to look forward.
One reason we have to look backward is because the rite of circumcision doesn’t have any real, spiritual significance for Christians today. But we have to remember that the only reason it doesn’t have significance for us is because of what Christ has done! St. Luke wants us to know that Jesus himself is the fulfillment of all God’s promises to Israel. So, we look back to the very beginning of Scripture, in the Book of Genesis, when God calls Abraham and tells him that he and all the male members of his household must be circumcised, in order to signify the covenant between God and his people, and to set them apart. But this command comes with a promise. God promises Abraham, “In thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice” (Gen. 22:18). So, for some mysterious reason, God decided that the hope of all the world would be one of Abraham’s children. But it wasn’t Isaac. It wasn’t Jacob. To find out who it is, we have to turn to what is universally considered the most boring part of the Bible: the genealogies. The “begats.” But listen to the words that St. Matthew chose to open his Gospel: “A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham.”
Jesus didn’t simply fall from heaven and land in a picturesque manger scene on the first Christmas. He was a son of Abraham. He was born to faithful Jewish parents who would raise him according to the Law, like they would have with any other child. He would grow up hearing God’s commandments, because Mary and Joseph remembered God’s instructions to “teach [the commandments] diligently unto your children, and talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise up” (Deut. 6:7). For Mary and Joseph, their first step in raising Jesus according to God’s commandments was to have him circumcised after eight days.
All of this looking backward may leave us wondering, “So what?” After all, we’re not Jewish, so what does this have to do with us? That’s why we also have to look forward. The fact that Jesus was circumcised on the eighth day is a significant detail. The Church has often referred to Christ’s resurrection as the “eighth day.” Jesus rose from the dead on a Sunday, the first day of the week, but because he conquered death and ushered in the Kingdom of God, we declare that it wasn’t any ordinary Sunday. The week didn’t just start over that day – it was the Eighth Day of creation. So, when we think of the infant Christ’s circumcision on the eighth day of his life, we remember that this child brought with him the very Kingdom of God.
When we think of our own lives, we should remember that we are living in the Eighth Day. The fact that Christ came in the flesh means that our own humanity is forever changed. It seems fitting that we would reflect on these things on New Year’s Day. The rest of the world is busy celebrating the fact that another 365 days have passed; the earth has made yet another trip around the sun. But we have much more reason to celebrate: the cycle of sin and death has been broken once and for all. For all of us who suffer from sickness and loneliness and loss and heartache, Christ has broken the cycle of repetition and given us new life.
But when we think about what it means to live this new life, we can’t forget the importance of God’s Law. In other words, when we look forward, we can’t simply forget everything we found when we looked backward. Christ came to fulfill the Law, but that doesn’t mean that God’s Law no longer has any bearing on us. I think that many of us, either consciously or unconsciously, hold the assumption that Judaism is a religion of following rules, but Christianity is a religion of some sort of vague “peace and freedom.” But I would propose to you the idea that the Old Testament commandments actually do not go far enough or deep enough into the particularity of our lives. Christ demands more of us, because he offers us more of himself. God’s commandments aren’t simply meant to “bring us in line” – they’re meant to transform us. Christ’s Incarnation makes this clearer than ever. It makes God’s calling on every aspect of our humanity clearer than ever before.
This is true even of one of the most fundamental things that we do when we gather together for worship. When we receive Holy Communion, we are actually responding to a command. In the words that we’ll hear in just a few moments, Christ commands us, “Take, eat, this is my Body which is given for you.” But we know that this commandment is not a burden that’s imposed upon us. It is Christ giving us his own life. It transforms us and unites us with him. This is why he came to us in the flesh. As St. Athanasius once put it, “The Son of God became man so that we might become sons of God.” On this eighth day after Christmas, as we remember Christ’s circumcision in the flesh, we are reminded that we are living in the Eighth Day of God’s new creation. God’s very being has penetrated the depths of our humanity. In Jesus, God is with us:
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