John
1:6-8, 19-28
(The lights in the church go off. The
lights in the church come back on).
So
let me ask you a dumb question: Do you need me to tell you that the lights just
came back on? No, because you can see they’re on. This past summer on the youth
mission trip, because I am an early riser, I had the not-so-pleasant job of
waking up the boys in their rooms. That involved me going and turning on bright
overhead lights while wishing them a good morning. Two things about that. They
did not say good morning back, and they did not need me to tell them that the
lights were now on: that was painfully obvious to them. When a light is
shining, we know it — that’s what makes it light.
So
then what are we to make of this extraordinary statement about John the
Baptist: He came as witness to the light,
so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he
came to testify to the light ? Why does anyone need to testify to the
light? In his earthly life, Jesus was extraordinary: he healed people,
performed miracles, taught with great authority, and drew all kinds of people
to himself. He was radiant. Everyone saw that, even his enemies. The question
about him wasn’t, “Is light shining?” Clearly it was. The big question was,
“Where is that light coming from?” And in the Gospel, the answer is clear: that
light comes from God. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, John the Baptist is a
precursor, a warm-up act there to prepare the crowds. But in John’s Gospel, he
is a witness. He is the one who points to Jesus and says, “Look! There is the
Son of God! That light you are seeing? That is God!”
And
while from the comfort and safety of our pews 2,000 years later, we might say,
“Well, duh, of course that was God!”, I don’t think we should be so quick to
judge. Jesus may have done some amazing things, but they weren’t the amazing
things people hoped for in a Messiah. He didn’t behave the way a lot of people
thought the “Son of God” should behave. They saw the light all right, but some
of them dismissed it, preferring darkness, and some even attributed it to
diabolical sources. So John’s witness, and the witness of others, mattered.
It
still does. There’s a whole lot of light pollution in our dark skies, a lot of
artificial light that claims divine origins. Religious zealots slaughter people
in churches, mosques, and marketplaces, yelling out “God is great!” as the
bombs go off. Is that from God? Preachers in this country, Christian preachers,
say vile and hateful things. One abhorrent Facebook post that was in the news
recently, written by a pastor, got lots of attention. I’ll share it with you,
though the language is offensive: “Allah sucks. Mohammed sucks. Islam sucks.
Any of you Hadjis have an issue with this, PM me and I’ll gladly give you my
address. You can come visit me, where I promise I will KILL YOU in my front
yard.” This written by a Christian minister! Is that from God? The word “God”
gets lots of air time, and everyone from ISIS terrorists to “Prosperity Gospel”
preachers invoke it, but the glare of publicity does not make it the light of
God. Paul writes in Second Corinthians that even
Satan comes disguised as an angel of light (2 Cor. 11:14). Christ continues
to shine, but we still need witnesses to the light, so that people will see the
true light and recognize it as God’s light.
And
in case it’s not totally clear, those witnesses include us. We do have a great
advantage over those folks in the first century, however. They really didn’t
know what to expect: they thought God’s light might shine through a Messianic
king who would restore the kingdom of Israel, a mighty warrior and military leader
who would set the Jews free from Roman oppression. But we now know better. It
is in the self-giving, self-emptying love of Jesus who draws people into
communion with each other that we see the light of God. Paul tells us in First
Thessalonians not to quench the Spirit but to
test everything. And the measure that we test everything by, the gold
standard, is the love of Christ. Anything that does not reflect that kind of
love does not come from God.
So
when people encourage others to hate and kill, whether they be Christians,
Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, atheists, or whatever, the light of God is
not shining. But when, as recently happened here with some of our own
parishioners, a group of Christian women gather with Muslim women from the
masjid to share food and stories, then the light shining there is God’s light.
When religious leaders try to exclude or marginalize people based on their
gender, sexual orientation, politics, marital status, or past history, there is
no divine aura around that. But when all are welcomed at the table to share in
the forgiving and transforming love of God, then we see the radiance of Christ.
His light is all around us, in every act of kindness, every moment of
compassion, every effort to heal, every attempt to build bridges and forge
relationships. We are Advent people: we are called to see Christ coming in all
these ways, we are supposed to see his light all around us and, like John the
Baptist, say, “Look! See? That is God!”
But
being witnesses means more than just pointing to the light: it means reflecting
the light, letting it shine through us. And here we touch a wonderful mystery:
we don’t have to make that happen. That light is already within us. As Paul
tells us in Romans, God’s love has been
poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us (Rom.
5:5). That love wants to shine out in our lives. So I began with a dumb
question, but let me end with a great question: How is that light trying to
shine through you? We tend to be such doers, but answering that question first
means stopping and paying attention, looking at the light of Jesus, and
pondering that light, and opening our hearts and minds to how God wants that
light to shine in our particular lives with our particular circumstances. It's
not something we impose or make up: it is something that emerges from us. Maybe
it will mean getting involved in a self-giving ministry. Maybe it will mean
changing your attitude towards someone you know. Maybe it will mean re-focusing
on what’s really important. It could be anything and everything. What we know
for sure is that there is a divine light shining within us, and Jesus tells us
not to cover it up or hide it. He is the true light, but we are witnesses, so
filled with his Spirit that he can say to us, You are the light of the world (Matt. 5:14). Let your light shine.
Let people see the light of Christ in us.
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