The four Gospel-writers are traditionally associated
with the four creatures seen in a vision
by the prophet Ezekiel:
a man, associated with Matthew,
a lion, associated with Mark,
an ox, associated with Luke,
and an eagle, associated with John.
In folklore, eagles were reputed to have
not only exceptionally keen vision
for seeking out prey,
but also the ability to stare
directly into the sun.
St. Augustine observes that John,
in comparison with the other evangelists,
“flies like an eagle above the clouds of human weakness,
and looks at the light of unchangeable truth
with the sharpest and firmest eyes of the heart” (Cons. ev. 1.6.9).
John gazes upon the stories of Jesus’ human life
and sees the dazzling mystery of God shining through.
with the four creatures seen in a vision
by the prophet Ezekiel:
a man, associated with Matthew,
a lion, associated with Mark,
an ox, associated with Luke,
and an eagle, associated with John.
In folklore, eagles were reputed to have
not only exceptionally keen vision
for seeking out prey,
but also the ability to stare
directly into the sun.
St. Augustine observes that John,
in comparison with the other evangelists,
“flies like an eagle above the clouds of human weakness,
and looks at the light of unchangeable truth
with the sharpest and firmest eyes of the heart” (Cons. ev. 1.6.9).
John gazes upon the stories of Jesus’ human life
and sees the dazzling mystery of God shining through.
This is perhaps nowhere more striking
than in the prologue to John’s Gospel,
which is our Gospel reading this morning.
Luke’s familiar nativity story,
which we read on Christmas Eve,
offers us Mary, Joseph, and the newborn Jesus,
the crowded inn and the manger,
the shepherds and the angels,
the “good news of great joy
that will be for all the people” (Lk 2:10).
And all of this strikes us as quite beautiful
and even miraculous.
But John looks upon these events with his eagle eye
and sees even greater beauty, an even greater miracle.
He stares into the blinding sun of infinite love
and sees that the story of the birth of Jesus
is a story rooted in eternity,
a story that stretches back
before any creature ever was,
before Mary or Joseph,
before the shepherds or even the angels.
St. Augustine writes that John is one
“who has passed beyond the cloud
in which the whole earth is wrapped,
and who has reached the liquid heaven
from which, with clearest and steadiest mental eye,
he is able to look upon God the Word,
who was in the beginning with God,
and by whom all things were made” (Cons. ev. 1.4.7).
In the beginning, before anything came to be,
was the Word by which everything came to be,
the Word that spoke into the void,
saying, “Let there be light,”
and the world miraculously came to be.
This Word is God the Son
who is, as the letter to the Hebrews puts it,
“the refulgence of [God’s] glory,
the very imprint of his being…
who sustains all things
by his mighty word.”
But the eagle eye of John,
that stares undazzled into the light of God,
sees also the darkness of the void
that resists the light,
the nothingness of evil
that refuses God’s gift of being.
Still, “the light shines in the darkness,
the darkness has not overcome it.”
God speaks his creating Word
into the world again and again,
through various prophets and sages
who announce peace and bear good news,
who tell God’s people
that God reigns over the darkness.
And now, in these last days,
God speaks into the darkness again—
not in the varied and partial ways
of the prophetic past,
but in the Word who is made flesh
to dwell among us
in the fullness of grace and truth.
that stares undazzled into the light of God,
sees also the darkness of the void
that resists the light,
the nothingness of evil
that refuses God’s gift of being.
Still, “the light shines in the darkness,
the darkness has not overcome it.”
God speaks his creating Word
into the world again and again,
through various prophets and sages
who announce peace and bear good news,
who tell God’s people
that God reigns over the darkness.
And now, in these last days,
God speaks into the darkness again—
not in the varied and partial ways
of the prophetic past,
but in the Word who is made flesh
to dwell among us
in the fullness of grace and truth.
The eagle eye of John sees God speaking
in the speechless infant born of Mary.
John sees the power of the Word
that called light from darkness
and existence from the void
in the powerless child of Bethlehem,
the child who will give to us who believe
“power to become children of God,”
so that each of us might become
by the miracle of grace
what the Word is by nature:
the “heir of all things”
and God’s own offspring.
John sees that the eternal Word,
born “from the womb of the Father…
born from the father’s own being”
in the speechless infant born of Mary.
John sees the power of the Word
that called light from darkness
and existence from the void
in the powerless child of Bethlehem,
the child who will give to us who believe
“power to become children of God,”
so that each of us might become
by the miracle of grace
what the Word is by nature:
the “heir of all things”
and God’s own offspring.
John sees that the eternal Word,
born “from the womb of the Father…
born from the father’s own being”
(Council of Toledo AD 675),
has become what we are
so that we might become children
“born not by natural generation
nor by human choice…but of God,”
drawn forth from the womb
of the waters of baptism,
freed from sin to live a new life,
given the eyes of eagles
so that we too might see
infinite light.
has become what we are
so that we might become children
“born not by natural generation
nor by human choice…but of God,”
drawn forth from the womb
of the waters of baptism,
freed from sin to live a new life,
given the eyes of eagles
so that we too might see
infinite light.
To stare with the eagle’s eye
into God’s eternal Word
is beautiful and miraculous,
but it is also somewhat terrifying,
for we also see the night
that still haunts the world,
hating the light and seeking to overcome it.
The calm poetic beauty with which John recounts
the coming of the Word in human flesh
is the prelude to that same flesh being killed
by the forces of darkness that would reject it;
and we who have been brought to life in him
may well face similar rejection.
For each week we take into ourselves
his flesh and blood, his soul and divinity,
so that we might have his life in us.
But in doing so we take in as well
the call to be light in the darkness,
like fragments of mirror
that reflect infinite light.
And it is only our faith that shows us
that we shall not be overcome
by uncomprehending darkness.
into God’s eternal Word
is beautiful and miraculous,
but it is also somewhat terrifying,
for we also see the night
that still haunts the world,
hating the light and seeking to overcome it.
The calm poetic beauty with which John recounts
the coming of the Word in human flesh
is the prelude to that same flesh being killed
by the forces of darkness that would reject it;
and we who have been brought to life in him
may well face similar rejection.
For each week we take into ourselves
his flesh and blood, his soul and divinity,
so that we might have his life in us.
But in doing so we take in as well
the call to be light in the darkness,
like fragments of mirror
that reflect infinite light.
And it is only our faith that shows us
that we shall not be overcome
by uncomprehending darkness.
Yet on this Christmas we rejoice,
for we do see with the eyes of eagles.
Like John and the prophets of old,
we shout for joy, for in the Word made flesh
we see directly, before our eyes,
the Lord restoring Zion,
the world created anew,
eternity invading time,
light dispelling darkness,
life conquering death.
We pray even while it is still night,
for that day when “all the ends of the earth
will behold the salvation of our God.”
And we pray that God, in his mercy,
might have mercy on us all.
for we do see with the eyes of eagles.
Like John and the prophets of old,
we shout for joy, for in the Word made flesh
we see directly, before our eyes,
the Lord restoring Zion,
the world created anew,
eternity invading time,
light dispelling darkness,
life conquering death.
We pray even while it is still night,
for that day when “all the ends of the earth
will behold the salvation of our God.”
And we pray that God, in his mercy,
might have mercy on us all.
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