Dec 31, 2023
I speak to you in the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Someday, I want to see a Christmas pageant that uses this version of the Christmas story. I mean – seriously – don’t you? No wise men bearing gifts or angels or shepherds. For that matter, no Mary or Joseph. Just a bunch of kids running around with flashlights and big signs with the word “Word” printed on them. And cranky old John the Baptist testifying to the light. I’m sure it would make for epic abstract theater.
And that’s the thing about John’s wonderful, poetic vision in today’s Gospel. It’s very different from Matthew and Luke, whose Christmas stories are about Jesus the child. Or Mark – who doesn’t have a Christmas story at all. John uses overlapping words and imagery that capture our imaginations and our hearts. He gives us a Cosmic Jesus. As I preach this morning, I’m going to want us to be thinking about two things: light and life, and how they’re connected. And before we go farther, I’m going to ask the ushers to turn out the lights in the sanctuary. And if you’re joining us online, I encourage you to dim the lights in whatever space you’re in, as well.
This wonderful story ties the Christ Child to the very beginning of time itself. Who can hear this Gospel story about the life and ministry of Jesus start with the words “In the beginning” and not think of the Bible’s very first passage that starts Genesis, where God moves over the face of the water and begins the creation? Our passage today tells us that Jesus, the light of the world “shineth in darkness”. John ties this Cosmic Jesus to God’s very first act of creating order out of chaos – “Let there be light”. God speaks, and the universe is filled with light.
And if we peek ahead into John’s Gospel, we see that darkness and light will be important themes. Jesus will proclaim himself “the light of the world”. Those who follow Jesus and his teaching will avoid “walking in darkness”, but instead will encounter “the light of life”. As John’s Gospel will demonstrate, walking in the light is important, because those who understand who Jesus is do so in the light.
Think about the Samaritan woman at the well, who comes to believe that Jesus is the savior of the world. The story is purposefully clear – they meet in the middle of the day. Or Mary Magdalene recognizing the Risen Jesus in the light of early dawn. They see Jesus for who he is, and their lives are lit by the light he brings.
On the other hand, those who don’t understand who Jesus is – those who do not believe – operate in the dark. There’s Nicodemus, who first comes to Jesus at night to ask about Jesus’ teachings. And Judas, who departs the Last Supper and betrays Jesus in the dark. They can’t see Jesus for who he is – the light of the world who brings eternal life – and so they walk in the dark.
Our story today tells us: “In him was life; and the life was the light of all men.” This link between light and life isn’t a coincidence. Light and life aren’t just things that God has created. They are qualities of the Living God. God is life. God is light. Recognizing one means recognizing the other.
Statistically speaking, most of you have drifted away from what I’ve been saying at least once. And that’s fine. Maybe you’ve noticed that this space looks different when the lights are off. Maybe, in this darkened space, your attention has drifted up to front of the church, or along the sides with those beautiful stained-glass windows. Maybe you’ve noticed their rich, vibrant color in the sunlight. Or wondered to yourself what they might be depicting. It’s hard to really see them when the lights are on, isn’t it? Maybe you’ve noticed the candles on the altar with their warm, flickering light. They almost seem to be alive, don’t they? It’s no wonder that Scripture so often depicts God as fire – Moses and the burning bush, for example; or the tongues of fire descending on the disciples at Pentecost.
We live in a time where light is cheap and plentiful. And that’s not necessarily bad. After all, lights help us understand our world. But ironically, lights can hide things, too. It’s hard to see the burning candle or the warm sunlight when our lives are filled with harsh light of our own creation. It’s hard to discover the Divine Light – the Light that illuminates each other, the world, and ourselves – when we fill our lives with unnatural light. Not just the light from light bulbs, but all the other kinds of light that distract us. The light of consumerism that distracts from the real meaning of Advent and Christmas. The light of “busy-ness” in our lives that distracts us from prayer. Whatever it is that we use to keep ourselves from thinking those unpleasant thoughts.
Maybe it’s only when we turn out those other lights and acknowledge the darkness in our lives that we can really see the true light. The light that shows us these stained glass windows and their stories of our ancestors’ faith journeys. Or the candle light that reminds us of the light that has come into the world through the mystery of the Incarnation.
Today’s Gospel is more than just beautiful poetry and grand imagery. It tells us the Good News: that the Cosmic Jesus who participated in creating light and life in the universe has through his birth brought the Divine Light into the world. Brought it into the world so that we can know the truth – that God calls us into a loving, trusting relationship that gives abundant life. But in a world filled with other lights, it’s hard to recognize that true light – the one that is alive with God’s presence.
As we move through this season of Christmas, we are reminded that the light of Christ is enough. We can tune out all the other lights. We need nothing besides the true light shining in a darkness that will – despite our fears – never comprehend it. Never understand it. And never overcome it. Amen.