Word in the Darkness

And we'll put it together with a seemingly unrelated verse from the Second Lesson today, Paul's admonition to the Thessalonians: Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances.

The Gospel writer paints a vivid word-picture for us today.

There is light, and there is darkness.

As usual in John, there is a double meaning to each of those terms.

The darkness is both internal and external, physical and spiritual; and so is the light.

Nicodemus came to Jesus in the darkness of night and the darkness of confusion. (3:1-21)

Jesus' speech to him is pure gospel: For God so loved the world....

And Jesus talks about himself as the light of the world.(8:12), the light we truly need.

It is not so hard for us to grasp a double meaning to this.

We're in the darkest time of the year.

If we lived much farther north, we might live in complete darkness to accompany the frigid temperatures and biting wind.

And that physical darkness can seep into our very being.

Depression can be a very real problem in that much physical darkness.

And there can be spiritual depression also.

“Where are you, Lord? Why don't we hear you, or sense your presence?

Why don't you let us in on what you want right now?

Why is there suffering? Why am I suffering?

If you are really God, do something,... now!”

When God is silent as we demand word and action, we will do drastic things to force him to act.

One way of interpreting the betrayal by Judas (18:1-9) is to imagine that Judas was simply trying to force Jesus into acting to save himself and demonstrate his power over the Romans and other authorities.

Surely, when Jesus is surrounded by all those who hate him, he will call down fire from heaven to consume them, and the revolution will be underway.

But Jesus will not be bullied into an action for which the world is not yet ready.

And then there are those circumstances in which the darkness is so profound that it seems ready to utterly overwhelm a person.

A woman was grieving the suicide of her sister, and she said:

“Two years ago I stopped talking with my sister because I thought it would help her get better.

It didn't; she's dead.

I was told that drug addiction was a matter of the will.

I no longer believe in willpower.

If there is any hope at all, it can't come from us.”

She was right.

We cannot manufacture our own hope, because anything that we make has a limp, a shortcoming, a limitation...and that shortcoming will be exactly the thing that keeps us chained in the darkness.

It is the word from outside of ourselves that makes the difference.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us(1:14), as we will soon be celebrating.

This Word comes to us when we are baptized; it is the word that changes things, that transforms all of life, that gives hope where there was none before, (Romans 6:4) that is light in our darkness.

Any spelunkers among us?

I've never been attracted to that particular kind of adventure, likely because I had my fill of it in a literary way.

One of the first books I ever owned was Tom Sawyer, a gift from my grandparents.

In it was the chapter about Tom and Becky Thatcher becoming separated from their companions and lost in the cave, and only by the most unlikely good fortune discovering that there was an otherwise unknown way out of the cave.

I don't want to deal with that much terror and that much darkness.

But some have been forced to do that.

Victor Frankl was a therapist who lived through the horrors of the Nazi death camps.

He observed what was happening with himself and others during that terrible time.

Some died rather quickly, even though they didn't have a particular illness.

One man, who had been doing reasonably well in the conditions of the camp, spoke often of being reunited with his wife.

But when he received word of the death of his wife in another camp, he died within a few days.

Frankl concluded that the man had died not because of an ailment or lack of food, but because he lacked hope that there was anything to be had beyond the darkness of that miserable camp.

We can live longer without bread than we can without hope.

Israel was in the darkness of political oppression, occupied by Rome.

But these are the people upon who this light is dawning, the Gospel writer John tells them.

Even before that dawn, there was a voice in the darkness, John the Baptizer.

What he said and did pointed to the dawn that is more sure than today's sunrise.

There has been light; there is light; there will be light, and his name is Jesus, whose very name means “God saves.”

That is the hope which we need in order to live.

It is the hope that comes to use each time we gather at this table:

King of kings, yet born of Mary

As of old on earth he stood,

Lord of lords in human vesture

In the body and the blood.

He will give to all the faithful,

His own self for heavenly food. LBW#198.2

That is why Paul is so right when he advises us to Rejoice always.

No matter how dark we feel at any given time, there is the objective fact that the light of Christ has shone, is shining, and will yet shine.

And pray continually in confidence that the Lord does hear and will respond in his good time.

The third part of Paul's admonition follows apace: Give thanks in all circumstances.

Yes, he really does mean that.

How many times has it happened that even as we gather around a deathbed, our prayers begin with remembering the years and times and gifts that God has granted, and saying thank you for them.

We may not have grasped them well, we may not have used them to the best advantage, but they have been given to us nonetheless.

Thank you, Lord.

The Gospel of John ends his episode with the Baptizer with the comment:

²⁸This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing.

They are on the east side, the wilderness side, the side on which their ancestors spent the 40 years of testing and getting ready for the entry into the land of promise.

John is telling them that they are engaged in a third Exodus event!

There was the first exodus from Egypt.

And there was a second one when the people came back from exile in Babylon.

It is happening a third time now, for with this baptism they (and we) must cross the Jordan River once again in order to enter the promised land.

Good News! We get a fresh start, a renewing of God's promises.

Good News! The darkness outside and the darkness inside ourselves shall not last forever.

Our reaction: rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and give thanks in all circumstances.

This is our Advent life. Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.