“A Great Light- Shine, Jesus!

Isaiah 9:1-4; Matthew 4:12-23

I was warned early on, when our family first moved to Fort Bragg on the coast of Northern California, that the power would go off a lot during storms. Our kids used to yearn for big storms so the power would go off, in part because it meant school was cancelled. We lost power once in winter, for seven days! We had to use candles and flashlights for a week without heat. I wondered how long we’d be out of power as the days dragged on. I have experienced power outages elsewhere, including in Ashland, and when the lights go out, I feel uneasy and vulnerable. I wonder how long it will be before things feel right again. When the lights come back on, I feel as if a long-lost friend has come back.

It feels, to me, like the power has gone out in our world, that the lights are off, with all that is going on, especially in our nation right now. I feel uneasy, and everything seems dark. Light and faith have tried to respond. Over1000 clergy- pastors, priests, rabbis, and imams- came out to the main airport in Minnesota on Friday, calling for justice and peace. Over 100 of them were arrested for proclaiming God’s light in the darkness. This was before yet another shooting of an American citizen yesterday, by Federal officers. This incident is still unfolding, and all facts are not yet known, despite what some officials are already saying. As I got ready to go to work yesterday morning, I found myself shaken, watching the television. What unfolded before me was the erosion of human rights in the America I love. One Minneapolis Public Safety Official said she has been in war zones in Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Ukraine, and what she saw on the streets of Minneapolis was what she saw in those other nations.

I sure could use some light.

Today’s sermon has to do with light, not just any light, but a special light. This light represents God. The metaphor of light was used frequently in the Hebrew Scriptures, beginning with the statement in Genesis that God is the author of light from the first moments of creation. The Psalmist in our call to worship declared that God is our light and the stronghold of our lives. In Psalm 119, we hear that God’s word is “a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Ps 119:105) In our passage from the Hebrew scriptures this morning, Isaiah declared that a chosen Servant, a new King, was coming, one who was a great light that shone in the darkness.

In Matthew, Jesus is the great light, acting powerfully in calling disciples, healing the sick, and fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecies. John designates Jesus as “Light of the world,” and later in Matthew, Jesus uses this metaphor of light to describe his followers, declaring, “You are the light of the world.”  (Matthew 5:14). There is a continuity of light reflected throughout scripture. The Light of God begins with creation, and continues through prophecy, through the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, and is kindled anew in Christ’s disciples.

Isaiah of the 8th century B.C. was writing for his day, a dark day indeed, when the threat from mighty Assyria seemed poised to engulf the land. The destruction of the nation was deserved, according to the prophet, because the people, both in the northern section known as Israel- also called Zebulun and Naphtali- and in the southern kingdom of Judah, had forsaken the covenant of Moses. The “darkness” the people dwelt in was both their sin and the threat of Assyrian destruction. Isaiah wanted to reassure the people that their Creator would restore at least a remnant of them to their former glory.

Whenever I sing the aria, “The People That Walked in Darkness” from Handel’s Messiah, I think of two things: One, it is a difficult aria to sing! And two- there is a message of hope in these words. “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light.”  A bit of light rises inside me whenever I sing or listen to the Messiah. Listen to the opening line of this solo, however. Handel uses a minor key and alternate low bass notes to make us feel as if we are in darkness.

(Dan sings a little portion)

In Matthew’s gospel, the people of God are far away from light and sit in darkness, the political darkness of Roman captivity, and still, the darkness of sin. The rich continue to take advantage of the poor; society still is divided between the acceptable and the rejected; and virtually all are captive to their hatred of the Roman occupiers. The old Advent carol, with its mournful accompaniment in a minor key, expresses well the mood of the time: “O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel, That mourns in lowly exile here, Until the Son of God appear.”

Then, in the midst of that darkness, Jesus bursts upon the scene, following his baptism and his testing in the wilderness. For Matthew, this marks the ascendancy of the light promised long ago by Isaiah. For Matthew, Jesus is the fulfillment of the light, the one who embodies God's light.

Soon, Jesus settles in Capernaum by the sea. This was not by chance, Matthew states, but to fulfill an ancient prophecy concerning Galilee of the Gentiles. Once more, Isaiah’s words ring true that light has come to the people “who sat in darkness.” The words as translated in the gospel differ slightly from those in Isaiah, but only because the gospel writer used the Greek version of the prophecy rather than the Hebrew. “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and the shadow of death light has dawned.”

Jesus then says, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has now come near.”  The word repent means to have a change of direction. It means gaining a new set of values, turning around, and having hearts ready for a life under the reign of God.

Some of us respond to Jesus' call to repent in an instant, making that change of direction as though our hearts had been waiting for just such a loving light to come upon us. Peter, Andrew, James, and John are examples of this, but they are not unique in the gospels.

Some of us respond to Jesus after a profound experience of healing where the call of Jesus touches our deepest wound. Whether the wound is visible or not, in our healing, we recognize this touch of amazing grace. It is then our gratitude prompts us to turn around and follow the one who has the word of life. That is part of my mother, Rosamond's, faith story: after seeing Jesus while battling pneumonia and recovering, she rededicated her life to him.

Some of us have had our faces turned toward Christ’s light from an early age and, at times, need a gentle nudge to keep our focus on the light rather than the darkness. That is my faith story, as I felt close to God from early on in my life and let him into my heart at the age of eleven.

For some, repentance comes in childhood, and following Christ has been a lifelong experience. I remember one of my congregants talking about repentance and turning to Jesus, saying, “I’ve always felt turned towards him, ever since I can remember!”

Repentance is more than just a turning. It is a way of prioritizing one’s life. James and John left their father, Zebedee, whose name translates to “Thunder,” sitting in the boat, nets in hand. I assume Zebedee had that name for a reason and probably didn’t let them go quietly! The abruptness of their departure, their break with fishing and family ties, and their acceptance to fish for people all speak to a reprioritizing as disciples of Christ.

Repentance means we turn ourselves to the light that began in creation and continued to shine in Christ Jesus, especially in dark times we find ourselves in.

Once the light of Jesus shines upon our faces and in our hearts, our lives are forever changed. We become bearers of that light and share it with others. Healing comes. The Good News comes. Our mission to serve others comes. Our voice to speak out prophetically, to call out oppression and injustice comes.

As a result of this repentance, people and places that have been caught in the grips of darkness are given a way out- a way of light and hope through our words and actions.

This morning is a time to consider your relationship with Christ, to look at the strength of your faith, and see what turning may still need to be done, for Jesus’s light is so needed, especially today in our nation, where it seems like the power has gone off and we cannot see in front of us.

Life feels overwhelming to me right now, and you may feel that way too. I read Nadia Bolz-Webber’s weekly email yesterday and thought she had some words of light for me during this current moment. I hope they bear Christ’s light to you as well.

One person named Kathyrn wrote to Rev Bolz-Weber, saying,

“Dear Nadia, I am struggling with the world’s weight. I know it’s not mine alone to carry, but every bit of awful news is like an assault on my heart. How can I serve the world when the world’s condition is so heavy?”

Rev. Weber responded, “The world feels heavy right now, and like it’s burying us.

It may be a lie that tender people are especially prone to believing: that if I really loved the world, I’d be able to carry it.

But none of us can carry it all, my friend. And yet each of us can carry a bit. Something. A mountain, or a morsel; a whole community, or just a wee corner of the world that fits in our hands.

None of us is equipped for all of it—but each of us is equipped for some of it.

So maybe serving a heavy world doesn’t mean absorbing its full weight. Maybe it means setting down what isn’t ours, and lifting the one small, specific thing that is—tending a body. Telling the truth. Making enough soup to feed yourself—and pouring a little extra into a jar to drop off for a neighbor. Showing up to a demonstration even if you’ve never been to one. Loving fiercely where your feet actually are. Taking a video of anything you see that’s unjust, even if your hands are shaking. Resisting despair and all its empty promises. That won’t save everything. But it will save something. And that is how we keep going.”

Darkness seems to be all around us. Light is so needed. Yet Jesus is the fulfillment of God's light for our day, as well as for two thousand years ago. God’s light still shines in Jesus, and when we follow him and do as Jesus calls us to do, his body on earth today shines forth as his light, illuminating the darkness. Keep going. Carry what you can. Shine where you can.

Jesus, the One who proclaimed the reign of God, whom we know as the Prince of Peace, calls us to work for peace in the world. Jesus, lover of the poor, calls us to care for those who are impoverished, and to bring economic justice to a world in which the rich get richer, and the poor sit in darkness. Jesus, healer of the sick, calls us to bring healing to those who are in anguish. Jesus, lover of all people, calls us to love our neighbors, to stand with those whose rights are being taken away, to uphold the outcast, the immigrant, the neglected, the forgotten.

These teachings are as challenging and as startling for us today as they were when first uttered. They separate those who will contribute to the light from those who add to the darkness. They mark sharers of a message of hope from bearers of a message of greed; They mark builders from destroyers; peacemakers from war mongers.

19th-century British Cardinal John Henry Newman (1801-90) wrote the following poem about Christ’s light in 1834:

“Lead kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on;

The night is dark, and I am far from home,

Lead Thou me on.

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene; one step enough for me.