“The Light Shines in the Darkness”
Isaiah 9:2-7
Luke 1:57-59
Luke 2:1-7
John 1:1-5, 10-14,16
Colossians 1:15-20, from The Message
All through this season of Advent at First Church Amherst, we have adopted an attitude that is both grimly realistic and defiantly hopeful and expectant.
On the one hand, we have acknowledged the darkness that surrounds us. These are, indeed, times that try our souls.
At the same time, however, we have celebrated the divine in-breaking of love and justice that leads us through the frightening darkness and into a place of light and love.
Hard, confusing times compel us to consider what is solid and dependable, what is true and right, what is trustworthy and life-giving. The hateful dehumanization of the marginalized and the methodical corruption and destruction of systems of care demand that we find new and creative ways to love our neighbors. And a relentless barrage of disheartening news challenges us to live joyfully, to dance in the darkness until the dawn breaks forth.
And so it is that by focusing on the good news of the gospel instead of the lies of the powerful, we have refused to let these hard and frightening times drive us to despair.
By focusing on God’s persistent pursuit of justice and peace, healing and wholeness for all, we have committed ourselves to living more courageously, knowing that God’s love is always with us.
In focusing on Zechariah’s answered prayers despite his doubts, Mary’s utter openness despite the risk, Joseph’s willingness without understanding, and Elizabeth’s unfettered joy over an unexpected gift, we have asked ourselves what seemingly impossible things might come to pass if we would say “yes” to Love.
By focusing on what wonders were worked by a human being born in trying circumstances to a poor, unmarried couple who then had to flee for their family’s lives, we have imagined the new and better world that becomes possible when we trust God and love our neighbors.
And by singing Mary’s revolutionary song, we have remembered that the life of faith is not about getting into heaven after we die but rather about bringing to Earth the justice, joy, and peace of heaven—the realm of God—to all people and all creation here and now.
The good news of Christmas is that God is with us in ways far more numerous, far more ordinary, and far more disruptive, and far more life-giving than we realize. The good news of our faith is that that love is more powerful than greed, death, cruelty, and hatred. The good news of peace for all people is that through individuals and communities of people committed to following the ways of love, the mighty will be cast down and the world will be turned right-side-up.
Let me say that again: The good news of Christmas is that God came to us in the form of Jesus to begin the process of transforming the world.
All of which brings us to the particularly good news of this fourth Sunday of Advent, which is that the Light of love shines even in the darkness—and that not even the deepest darkness or the most tragic, unjust death can overcome it.
And with this final Sunday of Advent falling on the winter solstice, we are reminded quite literally that the light always returns.
The light of Christ doesn’t dispel the darkness of the world so much as pierce it, illuminating the way through, showing us which way to go, attracting other searchers, and helping us all see the way forward.
This, beloveds, is not only the turning point of Advent; it is also the turning point of our faith: That moment when we go from simply waiting and watching for the light to come into the world to letting that light heal, transform, and empower us so that we might also become, ourselves, the light of the world.
The turning point is when we move from doing nothing more than just trying desperately to hang on and make it through to trusting that we are held in love, relaxing our death grip on life, opening our minds to imagine the new thing God is doing, seeing the Light of God in one another, opening our hearts to let the light of Christ in, and shining and sharing that light brightly enough for all the world to see.
Even in this moment, on the longest night of the year during one of the darkest periods in recent human history, we can become the light that shines in the darkness.
Even in this moment, the light has come. There will be more light tomorrow than today, and more light still the day after that and the day after that.
Beloveds, this light we have been longing for, the light that is coming and returning, is far more than something we can see. It is also something we can be.
Light is amazing in its capacity to generate and transform. Light gives life and warmth. Light protects and nurtures. Light creates joy and restores hope. Light generates new life, new possibility, new vision, and new growth.
And if you know anything about laser therapy, you know that light can even reduce pain and speed up healing.
Both the sunlight that is returning and the Light of Christ that is always with us and forever coming again change everything.
And in the same way that light is something more than what we see, good news is more than something we hear.
The good news of the Christmas story, the good news of our faith, is a foundation strong enough to build our lives upon. The good news of God’s ever-present love for us and with us, the good news that need not be afraid, the good news that God’s justice will prevail—all of that can, if we let it, change our lives and, through us and others, change the world.
Let us, ourselves, become good news for a hurting world.
Beloveds, as we prepare to celebrate the light of Christ coming into the world, may we let our light shine in the world’s darkness. As we build on the good news news of our faith, may we also let the good news that we are becoming bring hope and healing, joy, justice, and peace to this broken and beautiful world that God so loves.
May Christ’s light shine in us and through us, now and always, for all the world to see.
