CELEBRATING:
SERMONS
"Who Are You?"
Dec 15th, 2002
Prayer:
May only truth be spoken so that your truth may be heard,
O God, our Rock and our Redeemer. AMEN
At the end of a long day, I often take the indoor route
home next door. I walk down the corridor from my office,
down the steps into the chapel foyer, and then open
these doors into the sanctuary to walk down the side
or centre aisle towards the west exit.
On a bad day, the doors at the back
will be closed and there will be no light whatsoever
in this place. So I stifle my childhood anxiety of walking
in the dark, but keep my adult alertness to the possibility
that something may be misplaced in the aisle to trip
me up.
I walk cautiously, hoping for the best. So far so good.
On others days, I feel blessed that
someone has left open the door at the end of the aisle.
The street lights gently illuminate the foyer. Just
enough to make me feel confident that those unbroken
rays of light will lead me safely out of this darkened
sanctuary to the coach entrance steps and to my home
across the way.
Even a small light can get us through
the dark. A tiny candle flame becomes a beacon when
we are groping our way through the night.
[light the candle on the pulpit]
The darkness is, of course, not
always to be taken as negative. Who doesn't enjoy the
mystery and the intimacy of a darkened space or the
wonder of the night when we are safely and comfortably
settled. It is the journeying in the dark that unsettles
us, making us feel endangered and vulnerable.
There is, of course, a metaphor
here for any who can hear.
In dark nights of the soul, all of us strain our eyes
to catch glimmers of light. When we are caught in what
seems like a lightless cave, we begin to doubt we will
ever see light again.
We find it easy to give in to our fears - to give up
hope - to succumb to despair.
What did we learn in childhood about
reacting to the dark:
Did we learn to stop and howl and wait for someone to
bring a light; or,
to turn around and flee the dark; or,
to hope that someone would come to point to the light
we can't see because our eyes are squeezed shut in fear;
or
did we learn to keep going and trust that the light
we re-appear?
This is the season of much darkness
and little light.
It is important for anyone and certainly for people
of faith - to be conscious of how they respond to the
nights we must journey through.
Is this dark so overwhelming that we no longer trust
the light to re-appear? Is the night endless and hopeless?
Or are we still able believe in the dawn?
Do we have faith that the night will pass, because the
light is from God?
John the Baptist appeared around
the same time as Jesus.
It was a period of great turmoil. A time when there
was much religious ferment - but far more heat than
light. The people had little direction or hope. It felt
like they were traversing an endless night.
It was a time when one big empire dominated the world
political scene. In the geo-politics of the day the
land of Israel was but an insignificant little fractured
fiefdom.
The people writhed under foreign oppression and yearned
for a new day. They were longing, yearning, waiting,
watching. Watching for a light to give direction to
their journeying.
Prophetic types would come and claim
to be the light.
The rough and wild John the Baptist seemed like a possible
candidate for Messiah - Messiah, the anointed one who
could bring God's light into this barren darkness.
Who are you, John? Are you the light, the Messiah -
the One to restore David's righteous kingdom? Are you
the prophet Elijah, who is to set things straight before
God's Messiah comes? Or are you another of the great
prophets to transform our world and rid us of oppressive,
self-righteous empires?
John the Baptist's disciples would
have liked to claim all those titles and virtues for
their master. But John himself is quick to say, "NO!"
I am none of those - not the Messiah, not the prophet,
not the Light! I am just… a witness - someone pointing
to the Light.
Far from being the Light, I am not
even worthy to untie the sandals of the One to come.
In Rabbinic understanding a disciple might do for the
master anything that a servant did, except untie the
master's sandals. So John is saying: the One coming
is by far more significant than I am. I only point to
the Light!
When we walk through the night,
we need to hear John-like voices witnessing to the Light.
"Have you noticed the light over here." "Can
you glimpse the beacon over there?"
"over there, see the candle pushing back the dark!"
- my mind goes to the people who on Dec. 6 lit candles
for the Montreal fourteen.
I think of the valiant Canadian women gone to Baghdad
to act as human shields to protect the Iraqi people
from US & UK bombing. With their bodily witness,
they point to the divine light of peace and compassion.
Sometimes we create the night by
keeping our eyes closed.
We urgently need people who can gently tell us to open
our eyes.
Who among us doesn't need to see the statistics about
the growing gap between the rich and the poor - a gap
we prefer not to recognize. In BC, 1.1% of the population
already earning over $150,000 got 20% of the government's
tax cuts. Did we use this as an opportunity to witness
to the divine trait of sharing - a chance to point to
the light of God's generosity? You tell me!
The night is deepening for the poor because too many
of us are keeping our eyes closed.
Occasionally in the dark, we are
given one of those miraculous moments when all is suddenly
illuminated in stark relief. You've had it happen perhaps
when driving in the night or at a cottage with no artificial
light - suddenly there is a lightning flash and everything
is clear for just that amazing instant and we know where
we are.
It happens too in the dark night
of the soul when suddenly we see all of reality in God's
light. An illuminating insight of the Spirit - the advice
of a trusted friend - a moment of startling enlightenment.
Eureka!
So what is the Light, or better,
who is the Light?
If we were asking the children they would as a reflex
probably respond: Jesus!
And this time they would be correct! Jesus the Messiah.
And what we mean when we say that Jesus Christ is the
Light is that the Christ gives us the faith and courage
to continue walking, to continue traversing the night,
to continue risking our life for God's new way of being.
Christ as Light is not so much a
doctrine to believe, or a particular religion to adopt
- but Christ our Light has to do with the way he lived
and the love that he embodied - that is the Light.
The lightning moment of revelation is to see a world
outlined by Christ-like self-giving love and where the
fiercely compassionate justice of God is made into a
constant rule so that none need be afraid.
We know by faith that the Light
of God will not be extinguished and in fact the Christ
light will push back the fearsome night. The night is
not a competing god battling the living God. Our metaphoric
night is simply the absence of Light - humans more committed
to self, power and greed - at a distance from God.
What brings us together Sunday by
Sunday is the inextinguishable light of God.
This is what makes us gather before manger and cross.
The light of God gives us confidence and courage to
witness and risk ourselves.
The question asked of John the Baptist
was: so, who are you?
And frankly John admits he is no Messiah. But faithfully
he points to the one who stands among them - Jesus the
Christ - the one we are excited to welcome as the Holy
Child at Bethlehem.
Every year, that Holy Child asks
us: who are you? Are you really committed to the Light
I bring? Are you willing to make yourself like a child
- humble - so that God's way of Light can be enlarged?
Will you really help to push back the night - the night
of violence, of war, of greed and pride, of poverty,
of oppression, of disease, of emptiness, of loneliness
- or will you be busy extinguishing the light?
To find our way and to thrive, we
all need to see the Divine Light. When the darkness
threatens to overtake us, we all need to be witnesses
to the light for each other.
We all need to proclaim our faith in the Christ Light
with our hymns, our prayers, and our acts of faithful
caring that welcome the Light.
I pray that God will make us an
authentic community of witnesses to the Light - drawing
on all our resources to point to and welcome the Christ
Light for the world.
May it be so - thanks be to God!
AMEN
Let us pray:
As the rain hides the stars,
As the autumn mist hides the hills,
As the clouds veil the blue of the sky,
So the dark happenings of my lot
Hide the shining of your face from me.
Yet, if I may hold your hand in the darkness,
It is enough.
Since I know that, though I may stumble in my going,
You do not fall.
Gaelic Prayer, in "Spirit
of Gentleness" Edited by Lyn Whittall, Judy Hagar
ISBN o-96942489-1-7
Quiet Moments Publishing, Vancouver. 1997
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Shaughnessy Heights United Church
congregation is a Christian faith community — people
at various stages in the faith journey.
1550
West 33rd Avenue,
Vancouver, BC V6M 1A7
Canada SEE
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Tel:
604-261-6377
Email: admin@shuc.ca
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