December 29, 2024 ~ First Sunday after Pentecost
Worship Series: Come Home for Christmas
Rev. Beckie Sweet
What are the things we love most about the Christmas season? For me, one of those things is LIGHT! I love looking at the lights of Christmas trees, store windows, decorated houses and lawns. This year, we not only have the joy of seeing Christmas lights, but also those of the menorah as our Jewish neighbors celebrate Hanukkah. All of those lights break through the darkness in similar ways to leaving the porch light on during our long evenings to say to our visitors, “WELCOME!” As a child, one of my favorite games to play during the Christmas season was “I Spy.” As we sat around the living room, one person would start by saying, “I spy something gold!” The first person to guess what it was would have the chance to “spy” next. This game could go on for hours if someone was spying something red or green!!
During this busy time of the year, the message is poignant. The light gives us a gentle disruption from the darkness of excessive busy-ness, fear of the unknown, doubt in the promise, the messiness of change. Light in the dark gives us peace, comfort, solace. It provides a powerful image for those who are lost, doubting, alone, or in need. Perhaps that is why the tagline of the Motel 6 was so popular a few years ago when it said, “We’ll leave the light on for you!”
Lights on doorways offer a word of welcome, a sign of hospitality, to friends or strangers who need a safe place to go. The lights are a sign of protection against those who might seek to do harm. With light, the shadows are banished, so whatever you do will be seen in the light.
Maybe that is why at the beginning of God’s story, the first thing created was the LIGHT! God wanted us to know welcome and protection as foundational to all that was to be. And for John, “In the beginning” was fundamental to his birth story of Jesus. For that is what the text we read this morning really is. Now, we’re used to the story of Mary and Joseph, of angels and shepherds and Wise Ones from the East (they’ll arrive next week!). But this, too, the prologue in the gospel of John, is a narrative of birth ~ a new beginning for all creation that is yet to be part of the first beginning.
At the very start of it all was the Word. God’s Living Word, which spoke everything into being. And this One, was for John, the Living Christ. This Word, this Living Word, was Life, and the Life was Light for all people. John wanted people to know that Jesus, the one born on earth, was human, as you and I are part of God’s everlasting creation. With God, before time, in time and after time. John wanted those who saw God in Jesus to know that they were children of God as Jesus was. Not by any of their own doing, but by God’s desire. All of us could be, all of us are, a part of the Life that is also Light. In Jesus’ birth, we discover that God considers us a part of God’s hospitality in the world. A part of God’s protection for the world.
But then John makes this rather understated claim about this light. He says simply, “The Light shines in the darkness.” Really, John? This light is God’s Light. It just shines? It’s just noticeable? It just shows up in the midst of darkness? That’s it? Why doesn’t this light just get rid of the darkness altogether? How about it just takes the bleak mid-winter, with every sadness, with every despair, with raw deal, with every horrendous tragedy, every evil plan, every God-awful life-sucking disease, and tosses the whole mess into the cosmic trash bin? Couldn’t the light win big by obliterating all of the shadows, John? It would sure make us a lot happier if it did!
Scott Johnson wrote about this text: The light came. The darkness looked up and saw it and thought, hmmm! I don’t get it. I don’t understand what this light, what this candle for the whole world is all about. Well, I guess I’ll just go back to being the darkness: being that which drags humanity down; that which nibbles at the edge of people’s fractured souls; that which sneaks up on people to devastate them when they least expect it.
The Word of God came, says John, and when darkness saw it, it shrugged its shoulders and went back to work. Well, that’s a bit depressing! I mean, this is God’s Light. Shouldn’t God obliterate the darkness? I mean, it’s been over 2000 years since John told Jesus’ birth story and deep shadows certainly still exist. So, if we believe that John’s story is true, then maybe we need to look at God’s purpose in this story differently. Maybe obliteration isn’t how the God of Creation deals with anything.
A seminary student had to prepare a lesson on Isaiah 9. It’s the text Jen read for us on Christmas Eve, and it is often paired with today’s text from John’s first chapter. Isaiah stated it this way: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Those who lived in a land of deep darkness, on them light has shined.” As part of her research, the student decided to find the darkest place on campus, and after hunting around she found a seldom used racket ball court in the basement of one of the buildings. It was accessed only by going down two flights of steps and through a few heavy doors. The court was underground. Now this enterprising student discovered that when you got inside this court and closed the door and turned off the lights, it was really, really dark in there. There was not a single stray photon floating around that could make an impression on a human retina. It was, she said, totally dark….scary dark.
When it came time for her to lead the class, she brought them down the stairs, through the doors, and sat them down around the perimeter of the court. Then she said, “You are a people who live in a land of deep darkness.” And she flipped off the lights. There were gasps among the students. And then it got quiet…really quiet. And she waited. In the hush and in the dark, they sat, and sat and waited. And after five minutes, a surprisingly long five minutes, silent and absolutely dark minutes, she said, “On those who lived in a land of deep darkness, light has shined.”
And with those words, she struck a match and lit a small candle. Now by no means did that candle fill the vast room with light. But all the same, it changed everything. It changed them radically. For with the flickering of that light of the small candle, people could see themselves, and they could just barely see each other. They had enough light to see surprised faces, puzzled faces, and even a couple of faces streaked with tears.
For those in deep darkness, a little light made all the difference. There was just enough light. “The light shines in the darkness,” writes John. God doesn’t work by just wiping out that which doesn’t understand God, nor that which works against God. Rather, God chooses to put energy into being with us in the dark. God chooses so that we recognize that we are not alone. The promise of this reality is that we know that light is stronger than darkness. And only a small, seemingly insignificant amount of light makes it possible to see. I read somewhere that CS Lewis stated that I believe in Christianity even as I believe that the sun has risen not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.
The light shines in the darkness, and by it there is enough light to see God’s presence and the path toward God’s kin-dom. Enough light to have our vision reoriented to focus on things within that cast the light’s rays. That is the story of the incarnation and the birth of Jesus. God refuses to dwell in the heavens above and from a safe distance watch the drama of human life play out. But instead, God chooses to go right down to the darkest places to be with us. And in that holy luminous action, we find enough light to HOPE!
Archbishop Desmond Tutu, once said that “Hope is being able to see that there is light, despite all the darkness.” When we have hope, we act. And in hope we pick up whatever light we can find, no matter how small and insignificant. And when we do, we discover that there are others along the way like us, who are picking up the light that they have available to them. And as we journey together, each of us sharing the light that we can find, we begin to disburse the dread of the shadows. We begin to testify to the light, witnessing that we need not be afraid no matter the circumstances in which we live. Because God is determined to be with us. And then we begin to live confident that love, too, is stronger than hate, and life is stronger than death. And like light, love and life, even in seemingly insignificant amounts can push back the darkness and make God’s kin-dom real.
We don’t know what 2025 is going to bring us! As we move through this Christmas season, and lean toward Epiphany which we will celebrate next Sunday, John invites us to celebrate that God’s gift of light will continue to illuminate all the uncertainty that each year holds. And it will light the path of righteousness. And it will continue to show us the way home, the way to God’s kin-dom on earth as it is in heaven. If we continue to let our lights shine, if we continue to walk in the direction the light shows us, we will find welcome and hospitality on our way and we will provide welcome and hospitality for others on their way as well. We’ll find the protection and the strength that we need to face whatever darkness is yet to come.
And as we continue to give testimony to the light, we will push back the shadows, house by house, street by street, city by city, nation by nation. We have enough light to begin, here and now. May all know love by the light that we share. Amen.