Lights Over Baghdad
Children's sermon
Illustration
Preaching
Sermon
Worship
Object:
Dear Fellow Preachers,
As the Immediate Word team prepares this week's installment, a blinding sandstorm has stalled coalition forces on their way to Baghdad. The contrasts could not be more timely -- we have moved from dazzling displays of firepower, the so-called "shock and awe" bombing campaign, to the near darkness of the blowing storm.
Team member Carlos Wilton finds in the lectionary text from John 3 important images that help us reflect on the images of light and dark in a time of war.
Included with this installment are spirited comments from other team members, excellent illustrations, creative worship materials, and a moving children's sermon.
Lights Over Baghdad
By Carlos E. Wilton
John 3:14-21
"But those who do what is true come to the light..."-- John 3:21a
The Message On A Postcard
In most of our living rooms there is a window. Through it, we can look all the way to Baghdad.
Like most other windows, this one is made of glass -- but it's not the sort of window that's set into a wall. It's the window of our television screens.
In the soft glow of the television, in recent days, we have seen displayed all the horrors of modern war: thoughtfully served up by those reporters "embedded" in the military units of our nation and its coalition partners.
Look! There in the sky, over the minaret tower! A streak of gold: what is it? And over there: a row of bright lights, like fiery pearls on a string. Then there's the rapidly expanding golden flower of God-knows-how-big a bomb, vaporizing some building we can't even see. You might almost say those martial fireworks are beautiful -- were their effects not so horrible.
Many of us have been sitting in front of those glowing electronic windows of ours longer than usual in recent days (and nights). Their ceaseless flow of wartime imagery excites us: for we are watching history in the making, we tell ourselves. Yet those images also have a certain mesmerizing effect. We watch, and after a while we can hardly recall why. We see, but we don't see. We see events that undoubtedly bring pain and death to those in harm's way, but we scarcely feel that pain.
Over the city of Baghdad on these March evenings, there are lights: deadly lights, terrible lights. And all of them, they look so beautiful ...
Some Words On The Word -- John 3:14-21
This, of course, is a portion of the familiar story of Jesus' dialogue with the Pharisee Nicodemus. It's not the whole story, by any means; it's a somewhat artificially carved segment, meant to match up with the Old Testament lectionary passage about Moses' lifting up the serpent on the pole. I'd suggest broadening the reading to include the whole story, if you're going to rely heavily on the John text.
There are three places Nicodemus appears in John's Gospel: the first is here in John 3, where he visits Jesus by night (evidently so as not to be seen). The second is John 7:50ff, when Nicodemus protests the plan of his fellow Pharisees to have Jesus arrested as a false prophet. His opponents deride him, then, with the question of whether or not he, too, is from Galilee -- implying a degree of sympathy with Jesus' cause that goes beyond mere academic interest (7:52). The third episode is when Nicodemus shows up to claim the body of the crucified Jesus, bringing with him an extravagant quantity of burial spices that is vastly greater than what is actually needed (19:38-42).
John portrays Nicodemus in a generally sympathetic light. In the first two episodes of the Nicodemus story, we're never sure of where the Pharisee's sympathies really lie. By the time he shows up as Jesus' undertaker, however, it's clear that this distinguished Pharisee has broken from the pack and is taking substantial risks in order to honor a teacher he has come to respect.
The first part of the third chapter of John has Nicodemus coming to Jesus with some rather pointed questions. After Jesus uses the phrase "born from above," Nicodemus asks his famous question, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?"
In asking that question, the Pharisee is not clueless. After all, this is a man of tremendous learning, a theologian and scholar of the scriptures. Rather, he's engaging -- somewhat playfully, it seems -- in a Socratic-method style of questioning that's meant to expose any error in the man who is the object of his questioning. Nicodemus begins by trying to trap Jesus; and his intent may not be wholly friendly.
John never tells us here how Nicodemus' interaction with Jesus comes out. As is so typical with this gospel-writer, Nicodemus' questions are a springboard for more extended discourse, and John never gets around to tying up the loose ends of the narrative. We can only infer, from the two further, very sketchy episodes in the Nicodemus story, that he has been won over by Jesus, becoming more or less a follower.
All this is background to our lectionary selection, 3:14-21, which abruptly begins with Jesus' allusion to Numbers 21:4-9, moves on from there to the famous "For God so loved the world..." saying of John 3:16, and then to Jesus' assurance to believers frightened of God's wrath that the divine purpose is salvation, and that all who come to the light may be confident of receiving that inestimable gift. That light is Jesus himself: "God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him" (3:17).
A Map of the Message
In these exceedingly difficult, early days of the second Gulf War, the image of coming to the light has much to recommend it to the preacher. Memories of the aerial bombardment of Baghdad -- at least as we've witnessed it from afar on our television screens -- are by now seared into the memories of many of our listeners. Those golden lights hanging in the skies over Baghdad, while beautiful, are in fact something very different. They are heralds of death.
A question that can readily be posed from the pulpit this week is: "To which light do we come?" Do we come to the seductive lights of the world's power (as symbolized by those lights over Baghdad), which entice us as moths to a flame -- or do we come to a greater light? Do we come to the lights of the world -- or to the Light of the World, Jesus Christ?
Those in our world who plan wars, and wage wars, frequently try to portray them as a glorious enterprise. They celebrate -- and rightly so -- the honor and courage of those foot soldiers who do the hardest work of war (and sometimes, just as honorably and courageously, give their lives). They celebrate high-sounding ideals, like justice and freedom -- and promise that war will bring these things to the nation defeated. They pin medals on the chests of the survivors.
Yet in truth, war is never glorious. Those who claim otherwise are not telling the whole truth. There is no glory in the bombing of inhabited cities -- however "smart" the bombs we drop on them may be. Always war represents failure: failure of diplomacy, failure of understanding, failure of love.
As I say these things about war, I have no intention of undermining the courage and sacrifice of the men and women of our nation's armed services who are even now on the battlefield. They deserve our support, and our prayers. Nor do I wish to undermine the courage and sacrifice of those ordinary Iraqi soldiers who oppose them: believing, as many of them surely do, that by taking a gun in their hands they're defending their homeland.
Sometimes there is courage and virtue in war: but when there is, it is most often the work of individual soldiers. As for war itself, it can only be a human tragedy. No matter how necessary a war may seem to be, always it is a grim choice between two alternatives, both of them bad. The lesser of two evils is still evil.
No matter how fascinating (and even lovely) the lights over Baghdad may be, they are the harbingers of death and destruction.
Our listeners this Sunday will probably have a variety of opinions about the war. Although polls now report upwards of 70% of Americans as being in favor of the military intervention in Iraq, those figures were not so overwhelming only a short time ago, when only a slight majority favored invasion. The spike in the numbers is surely attributable to the desire of many Americans to stand behind our nation's troops, who have now placed themselves in harm's way. A significant number of those former skeptics who have recently switched may still have quiet misgivings.
Wartime preaching is difficult. Emotions run high. We preachers have somehow got to steer a course between the Scylla of failing to address the deep patriotic feelings of many of our people and the Charybdis of inappropriately wrapping ourselves in the flag.
General Omar Bradley knew all about war. He was General Eisenhower's second-in-command during World War II. After that particular conflict was over, as our nation was entering the forty-year arms race that came to be called the Cold War, Bradley had this to say about the enterprise that had been his life's work:
[We are] stumbling blindly through a spiritual darkness, while playing with the precarious secrets of life and death. The world has achieved brilliance without wisdom, power without conscience. Ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants. We know more about war than we know about peace, more about killing than we know about living. (Armistice Day speech, Nov. 11, 1948)
President Eisenhower himself (General Bradley's boss) issued the orders that sent thousands of young soldiers to the beaches of Normandy: there to look death in the eye. Eisenhower had an accurate understanding of the magnitude of the decisions he had to make, as supreme commander of Allied forces. Later, after the war, he spoke these famous words:
Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. The world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children ... This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron. [Speech, April 16, 1953]
Another President who bore the heavy weight of responsibility in sending soldiers to the battlefield was Abraham Lincoln. A play by John Drinkwater contains a scene from Lincoln's life that may or may not be true; but even if it's not, it's true to the character of this greatest of all wartime presidents.
At a social event, Lincoln encounters a woman who's an avid supporter of the Union cause. He mentions to her that he's just received news of a great victory: the Confederate army has lost 2700 men, and the Union only 800. "How splendid!" she replies with enthusiasm.
Lincoln is taken aback: "How can you be so thrilled at the loss of 3500 lives?" he asks.
"Oh, you must not think like that, Mr. President," the woman replies. "There were only 800 that mattered."
Lincoln is silent for a moment, and his eyes fill with tears. "Madam," he says slowly, "the world is larger than your heart." (From John Drinkwater's Abraham Lincoln)
The patriotic hearts of many in our nation thrill to the televised sight of the lights over Baghdad; but it's sobering to remember Lincoln's insight that the world is, indeed, larger than our hearts.
Team Comments
Carter Shelley comments: I once wrote a sermon on this text titled "The Twilight Zone." While the title came from the television show in which weird, scary, and inexplicable things happened to people, I used the term to describe the state of semi-grace that many Christians occupy. They identify themselves as Christian, but are not active members of a church. They claim to affirm the basic tenets of Christianity, yet are not moved or touched at the core of their being to live out that faith in meaningful and significant ways as part of a worshiping community of faith. Thus, they, as well as some of us who are members of a church and regular participants, may inhabit a religious twilight zone. In this twilight zone lukewarm Christians allow our faith to be a part of our lives, but not the force that directs our lives.
The author of the Gospel of John would have been horrified at such complacent Christianity. In John 3:14-21 no room is provided for indecision, hesitation, or twilight zones. Either one is exposed to the light and tries to seek it, or denies the light and hides in the dark. For John and other first century Christians, there was great imperative to be Christian. Being a Christian didn't make a difference in their life; it made all the difference.
Not having the advantages and knowledge that 21 centuries of study and discovery have given us today, much that we consider commonplace and self-explanatory was terrifying and threatening to first century people. A change in the moon's appearance, a widespread sickness, a curious event, would all be explained in terms of darkness, of the unknown. Because people did not know epilepsy was a common and treatable illness, it was understood in the language of demon possession.
Life was difficult, frightening, and often evil. By the time John wrote the fourth Gospel, much had happened in the Roman Empire to suggest that a terrible wickedness and darkness ruled the earth. The wickedness and degeneracy of many of the Roman emperors, such as Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, and Domitian, were reflected in the cruelty of the gladiator sports and the relish for suffering the common people displayed in their readiness to attend public executions and slaughters in the Coliseum.
Living in a world where witnessing crucifixions and people being fed to lions or being burnt at the stake was considered recreation, the first century Christians had a strong sense of either/or. Either one chose the darkness and evil of their contemporary world, or one sought the salvific light of compassion, hope, and love offered by God through God's Son Jesus.
During the current war between our country and Iraq, we have access to similar horrors through the flick of a television remote. Thus far the images we have seen appear more like firework displays than the destruction of Baghdad with an accompanying loss of lives. Few of us would call it entertainment. Yet we can be caught by both the miracle of television and military technology our 21st century world provides.
The affirmation of this biblical text reminds us that even during times of war and great suffering, the world is not controlled by presidents, dictators, or by fate; it is governed by the will of a personal and loving God. John's message was sent to persecuted Christians in the early church offering them a beacon of hope.
Isn't it interesting how testy and angry this war has made people? To be pro-peace rather than pro-war gets interpreted as being unpatriotic. Our soldiers are seen as heroes who deserve our prayers and our support, because they are sacrificing their lives for the ultimate cause: freedom for our country. Putting aside the fact that we are the most powerful nation in the world and the fact that Iraq poses a mild threat to our ultimate security, isn't it interesting that men and women are sent into battle with good wishes and enthusiastic flag-waving? They are sacrificing their lives for our country.
But as Christians, our first loyalty is not to the United States of America. As Christians, our first loyalty is to the one who sacrificed himself for us. As Christians, we are called to live our lives and, if need be, to sacrifice our lives for Jesus Christ. Yet how many political rallies, how many contested debates, how much news coverage do we offer on behalf of our Lord and Savior? Is it because we prefer darkness to the light that we can enthusiastically support or oppose war with Iraq?
Is this war really about freedom for the Iraqi people? Or is it about power? Human power. Which country is more powerful? Which country's will will prevail on the international scene in the coming decades?
But Christianity is not about power. Christianity is about powerlessness. God relinquishes power in sending God's Son into our world. "God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."
Carlos describes the seemingly hypnotic effects that the bursts of light over Baghdad have had on us as we watch in fascinated horror the bombings taking place. Those lights are not the true light. Those lights that momentarily lightened the night skies over Iraq are harbingers of darkness. "And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil."
Political power is the power of darkness. In her book The Rock That is Higher author Madeleine L'Engle writes:
I don't think God needs our protection! God is All in All, and all that Love's radiance asks is our love in return, not our protection. Indeed, in him there is no darkness at all, but there is darkness in us whenever we turn our backs on love. If I am secure in God's perfect love, I will have no fear, for love casts out fear.1
Earlier in this same book, L'Engle describes her exchange with a Bible College faculty that had invited her to teach a workshop for them. In it she offers a helpful reading of John's affirmation:
I was given their statement of faith to sign. I read it, found it unscriptural, and pushed it aside. There was no way I could sign it.
They called me. "Where's the statement of faith?"
I spoke to the dean of this Bible college. "It's unscriptural. I'm sorry. I can't sign it."
I read him point three, which was one of the two points out of conscience that I could not sign. "Because of the fall we are in such a state of sin and depravity that we are justly under God's wrath and condemnation." Point four said that the only way God could forgive us for all this sin and depravity was for Jesus to come and get crucified. "What this is saying," I told the dean, "is that Jesus had to come save us from God the Father. I don't believe that Jesus had to come save us from God the Father. Scripture says, 'God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son.' The birth of Jesus showed God's love, not God's anger. This is what the Bible says, and this is what I believe.2
Notes
1 L'Engle, Madeleine. The Rock that is Higher: Story as Truth. Wheaton Illinois: Howard Shaw 1993, p.119
2 p. 72
Stan Purdum comments: Carlos, you've done well with a subject on which it is hard to render many definitive statements. In the midst of conflict, it is exceedingly difficult to remember the humanity of those we label "enemy," which perhaps is a reminder of how limited all of us created beings are and how far we are from our Creator.
It occurs to me that an additional scriptural link from your Abraham Lincoln story is 1 John 3:20: -- "for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything."
George Murphy comments: First: Can we say that the lights over Baghdad are simply opposed to the Light of the World? We can't simply speak of "war" in the abstract as good or evil without attention to context. Certainly we could say, e.g., that the U.S. war with Mexico was wrong. On the other hand, I think it would be a sign of moral confusion, at best, to say that military opposition to Nazism was wrong. And if one believes that God is really active in the world and operates through secondary causes, it's even a little risky to picture "God" as a strict pacifist. Luther's distinction between God's "alien work" and God's "proper work" is relevant here. The former -- work of condemnation -- and destruction must be done for the sake of the latter -- works of mercy, and love.
The Lincoln (or Drinkwater) story is important, but let's not forget what Lincoln did. He certainly felt the burden of the thousands of wounded and killed in the Civil War. But he did prosecute that war, which was in a sense the first modern technological conflict, in some ways quite ruthlessly, and was denounced as a butcher by those who thought that the disruption of the Union and the continuance of slavery would have been a price worth paying for peace.
None of which is intended as a "proof" that the present war with Iraq was justified. Christian decision making about war and peace can be hard. Peace always has to be the goal, but sometimes a price does have to be paid for it.
Second: What is the light to which we are to come? In the Fourth Gospel the light
of the world is Christ (e.g., John 8:12). And because Christians have been illumined by this light, they in turn are to be "the light of the world" (Matthew 5:14 - cf. Joachim
Jeremias, The Sermon on the Mount [Fortress, 1963], p.26) in fulfillment of Isaiah 49:6.
Third: Is Nicodemus really engaging Jesus in Socratic dialogue? Or do we have here the typical Johannine pattern of statements that can be understood on two levels, the obvious and wrong one, and the correct one? "You must be born anew." "Duh -- how can I get back inside my mother to be born anew?" (and that exchange in vv.3-4 should, I think, make us a bit careful about the claim that anothen should be translated as "from Above" rather than "again.")
I guess my only other comment, in view of the strong Johannine emphasis on Jesus as "the light of the world," is we can be more specific than simply "the light of God." And since he is the light of the "world" we should avoid purely individualistic concepts of being enlightened.
Carlos Wilton responds to George Murphy: George wrote: "Can we say that the lights over Baghdad are simply opposed to the Light of the World?"
I think we can. War is evil, although it is sometimes -- on rare occasions -- less of an evil than the alternative. (Pacifists would of course disagree.) As I said in my earlier remarks, we ought not to lose sight of the fact that the lesser of two evils is still evil.
Despite portions of the Hebrew Scriptures, I am reluctant to portray God, in light of the new covenant in Jesus Christ, as the captain of armies. I'm more comfortable understanding God as permitting war to happen, as part of the fallenness of creation -- much as God permits other forms of evil to triumph for a time, until the day of the final consummation, when every tear will be wiped from every eye. When soldiers take the battlefield, I believe God weeps for the fallen of both sides.
If I am right in what I say above, and there are certain rare, lesser-of-two-evils situations when Christians must go to war, then how ought they to do so? With sad resignation, but also with steely determination to do what must be done. Let us not glorify a grim choice between two unpalatable alternatives, but let us get the job done, as swiftly and as humanely as possible. And when we are finished, let us do as Job did, and repent in dust and ashes for the fallenness of our human condition.
Mark Irons responds: This current war is filled with irony, and irony fits well with the third chapter of John. It is ironic that a war that seeks to liberate the Iraqi people is seen by many Arabs to be a horrible intrusion by an outsider into the sphere of the Arab Muslim world. It is ironic that we would hold the Iraqis to the letter of international law in the treatment of prisoners of war after our nation has thumbed our nose at the United Nations processes and have our own photographed prisoners in Guantanamo Bay. It is ironic that we are repelled by the religious rhetoric tied to war and terrorism by some in the Arab world while people in our own nation claim our own holy agenda in this conflict.
And the passage at hand is ultimately about light while the war is being fought, in large part, under the cover of night. Military commanders claim that this gives our troops a tactical advantage because of our superior technology. Interestingly, this provides a more spectacular picture for those "embedded" journalists as the fired munitions show up, as Carlos Wilton points out, as dazzling "martial fireworks." Away from the light of day, the war proceeds. This text proclaims, "... those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God."
This conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus leads to some mixed metaphors as the Gospel of John shares it. Throughout this passage, John pairs contradictory terms: exultation and crucifixion, condemnation and salvation, light and darkness. Jesus refers to Moses' lifting up of the serpent in the wilderness (NRSV) or desert (NIV). For Moses, this was a recognition of the ancient association between snakes and healing, another irony. Those who had been bitten by a snake would look upon the bronze serpent on the pole and would live. Jesus uses the dual meaning of the word huposoo to speak both of his ascension and his crucifixion. He would be lifted up and exalted, but only by way of being elevated upon a cross first.
So, are we merely to wallow in the muck of irony, or can we do something with John's language? Irony is a more realistic picture of life than the black and white portrayals that so many of us like. We are a people of irony. We live in the richest, most prosperous, nation of the world, and yet millions are caught in the web of poverty with poor or nonexistent health care. We claim to be a Christian nation, and yet, as individuals, we are Christian only to the point where it doesn't interfere with our desired lifestyle. We want the title of righteous Christian but don't want the dirt that comes with humble servitude. We wave the flags of freedom, democracy, and opportunity, but for years have supported regimes that espouse none of those things for the sake of economic or political expediency.
John would have us fully recognize, if not celebrate, the irony. After all, the gnostics who John purposely countered in his Gospel, choose to try to minimize the irony of Christ's identity. John uses irony, I believe, to recognize it as a part of life and as a part of the gospel. The richness of his imagery and his persistent contrasting of contradictory ideas is not for the purpose of tricking the reader, but to hold it up before us as a signpost for the greater reality. Don't ignore the irony! Don't ignore the great gift of life and light that is in our midst. Only through the irony can we fully receive the fullness of God's life and salvation. Only through the irony can we hope to address the crazy contradictions of the world in which we live.
Illustrations
There's an old Jewish story of a wise rabbi, who once asked his followers how they could tell when the night had ended and the day had begun. "Could it be," asked one of the students, "when you can see an animal in the distance and can tell whether it's a sheep or a dog?"
"No," answered the rabbi.
"Is it," asked another, "when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it's a fig tree or a peach tree?"
"No, that answer too is wrong."
"Then when is it?" asked the students.
"It is when you can look on the face of any man or woman and see that it is your sister or brother. Because if you cannot see this, it is still night."
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This past Ash Wednesday, the poet Ann Weems published a new poem:
I No Longer Pray for Peace
On the edge of war, one foot already in,
I no longer pray for peace:
I pray for miracles.
I pray that stone hearts will turn to tenderheartedness,
and evil intentions will turn to mercifulness,
and all the soldiers already deployed
will be snatched out of harm's way,
and the whole world will be astounded onto its knees.
I pray that all the "God talk" will take bones,
and stand up and shed its cloak of faithlessness,
and walk again in its powerful truth.
I pray that the whole world might sit down together and share
its bread and its wine.
Some say there is no hope,
but then I've always applauded the holy fools
who never seem to give up on the scandalousness of our faith:
that we are loved by God ...
that we can truly love one another.
I no longer pray for peace:
I pray for miracles.
http://www.churchworldservice.org/news/Iraq/weems-poem.html
Copyright (c) 2003 by Ann Weems. All rights reserved. Email: aweems7@swbell.net
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Those who are interested in being a bit provocative on the anti-war side may find it useful to consult, or even re-tell, the short story of Mark Twain (unpublished until after his death), called "The War Prayer." It even takes place in church:
http://www.arts.adelaide.edu.au/personal/DHart/ETexts/War/MarkTwain/WarP...
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Naturally the common people don't want war, but after all it is the leaders who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country.
-- Hermann Goering, April 1946
Both the Mark Twain story and the Goering quotation raise the subject of hostility directed against the "doves" by the "hawks." A sermon could perhaps acknowledge that the thoughts and prayers of many are with our soldiers risking their lives on the battlefield, but at the same time warn against the sort of war fever that pits neighbor against neighbor.
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The first casualty of any war is truth. Inevitably each side cloaks itself in myths of righteousness. The Iraqis must believe Saddam's propaganda, and we believe our president when he calls us to "go forward to defend freedom and all that is good and just in the world," even as we had to believe his father when he called us "to free Kuwait." Of course, most of us now believe that the Gulf War was more about oil than it was about freedom. Is this war really so different? Does America really represent all that is good and just in the world?
In order to fight, a nation must also demonize its enemy. For this task, unfortunately, we again have the help of some of our clergy. On television, I recently heard one prominent evangelist say that Islam itself is evil; and another say that Mohammed was a pedophile. There are others who are suggesting that Muslims are hate-filled people who affirm terrorism and pray for the decimation of the United States. Such lies serve a terrible purpose. Only by demonizing our enemies can we kill them with impunity.
The humanity of our "enemies" doesn't seem to register with many Christians these days. I heard one evangelical leader say that Desert Storm was carried out with a minimum number of casualties. Of course, he was referring only to U.S. casualties, because in the context of war those on the other side don't matter. Only our dead matter. Actually, there were 35,000 civilians killed during Desert Storm. I'm grateful for the many other Christian leaders proclaiming that God is no respecter of persons and has as much love for Iraqis as he does for Americans. When Iraqis or Americans die, God weeps....
When I consider the realities of war, I wonder whether the good which may be achieved can ever outweigh the evil that is sure to come. Perhaps it would be best for preachers to admit, as did the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, that the choice is not between the moral and the immoral, but between the immoral and the less moral. And, please let us not talk about a just war anymore.
-- Tony Campolo, On Preaching the Truth About War, From the Prism Epistle, 1/15/03
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/PrismEpistle/message/88
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"Those little white lights are heat images of people on foot. They're about to be attacked. That fellow running out in the open -- were he and the people killed members of al Qaeda, or just coming to worship? We'll never know. But surely their mothers do.
And there will be mothers like them in Iraq. Saddam won't mind -- dead or alive, and we won't mind, either. The spoils of victory include amnesia."
-- Bill Moyers http://www.pbs.org/now/commentary/moyers14.html
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"Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned."
--Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre, chapter 4 (1847).
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"To choose one's victims, to prepare one's plan minutely, to slake an implacable vengeance, and then to go to bed ... there is nothing sweeter in the world."
--Josef Stalin, quoted in Robert Conquest, Lenin's Guffaw, New Republic (Washington, D.C., Sept. 15, 1986).
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"It really boils down to this: that all life is interrelated, tied into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. We are made to live together because of the interrelated structure of reality. Did you ever stop to think that you can't leave for your job in the morning without being dependent on most of the world? You get up in the morning and go to the bathroom and you reach for a bar of soap, and that's given to you at the hands of a Frenchman. And then you go into the kitchen to drink your coffee for the morning, and that's poured into your cup by a South American. And maybe you want tea: that's poured into your cup by a Chinese. Or maybe you're desirous of having cocoa for breakfast, and that's poured into your cup by a West African. And then you reach over for your toast, and that's given to you at the hands of an English-speaking farmer, not to mention the baker. And before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you've depended on more than half the world. This is the way our universe is structured; this is its interrelated quality. We aren't going to have peace on Earth until we recognize this basic fact of the interrelated structure of all reality."
-- Martin Luther King, Jr., A Christmas Sermon on Peace, 1967
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"If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility."
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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"It made me think of Mother Teresa and the Catholic writer Henri Nouwen, who was a priest. He went to her once and poured out his problems -- he wasn't appreciated, he was misunderstood, higher-ups weren't helping him in his good work. "You wouldn't be having these problems if you prayed more," she said. And that's all she said. At first Nouwen felt resentful -- he had expected encouragement, sympathy, solidarity. Instead he got a blunt statement that he knew, in a moment, was true. He really wouldn't be having these problems if he prayed more. So he went home and prayed. And the problems became manageable, and life did not end.
Which got me thinking this: It is easier to fight than to pray. In fact it's much easier to fight than to pray. It's one of the reasons we do more of the former than the latter.
And fighting is hard. But it's not the hardest thing of all the things we could do. The hardest thing is this: I have been reading about Karol Wojtyla during World War II, long before he became Pope John Paul II. Mr. Wojtyla was in his late teens when the war started, and after the Nazis invaded Poland he worked manual labor, on the freezing overnight shift at a factory, outdoors, breaking and carrying rocks. He was ill fed, grew thin, suffered. He had only one pair of shoes, and they were wooden. What energy he had after work he gave to art, to help keep Polish drama alive, for he felt that art would help his nation live. He was unusually generous with others, shared what he had, was known for a particular kindness. He helped friends in the Resistance, but he did not join them. Why? Because, as he told a friend, the only resistance that would work was asking God's help. "The only thing that will be effective is prayer." So he quietly and constantly prayed, for the liberation of Poland and the end of Nazism and the safety of his jailed and abused Jewish and Christian friends.
Prayer is the hardest thing. And no one congratulates you for doing it because no one knows you're doing it, and if things turn out well they likely won't thank God in any case.
But I have a feeling that the hardest thing is what we all better be doing now, and that it's not only the best answer but the only one."
--From an article entitled, "Fighting is Easier Then Praying," by former White House speechwriter Peggy Noonan; The Wall Street Journal.
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Clancy McCartney, a seventh-grader from St. Gabriel's School in San Francisco, California, was assigned to write an essay that paralleled E.B. White's renowned essay on "Democracy." Clancy's mother, SojoMail subscriber Sarah Stockton, describes him as "a typical 12-year-old in many ways; he plays basketball and Nintendo, likes to read, serves as an altar boy, and tries hard to do well in seventh grade." This is what he wrote:
Surely Everyone Knows
by Clancy McCartney
Surely everyone knows what war is. It is the devil holding up the hand of the victor. It is the dark rain cloud that covers the whole world. It is the death of men who thought their sacrifice to be necessary. It is the graveyard that runs for miles and miles; it is the sound of a whistle slowly getting softer. War is a flag standing proudly over countless bodies. It is the bugs flying straight into a light bulb, the fire that slowly spreads, the screams of those who fought not for their god but for their country. War is the snake poised to strike at the girl collecting flowers. War is the person who fights for the dirt he spilt blood on. It is the crowd cheering for their country in a death match. It's the people rushing to join the cause that will help destroy the lives of thousands. War is a misunderstanding of what it means to be loving.
-- Sojomail (electronic newsletter of the Sojourners community), May 1, 2002
http://www.sojo.net/index.cfm?action=sojomail.display&issue=050102
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Do not be too quick to assume that your enemy is an enemy of God just because he is your enemy. Perhaps he is your enemy precisely because he can find nothing in you that gives glory to God. Perhaps he fears you because he can find nothing in you of God's love and God's kindness and God's patience and mercy and understanding of the weaknesses of men.
Do not be too quick to condemn the man who no longer believes in God, for it is perhaps your own coldness and avarice, your mediocrity and materialism, your sensuality and selfishness that have killed his faith.
-- Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, (Norton, 1974)
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"Light: What is it? It is not something to search for; it is something to search by. NO man by searching can find out God; but, if he takes God without searching, he will find everything else. My evidence for God is what he shows me. I must have a torch to begin with. The room is dark, and I have lost something -- the key to my own nature. I cannot find it till I have struck a light. There must be light in my hand before I come in -- light on the threshold, light at the very door. My progress must not be from the dark into the clear, but from the clear into the dark. God is his own interpreter. In God's light shall we see light."
-- George Matheson, O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go: Meditations, Prayers and Poems (London: Collins, 1990), 75.
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Missionary Virginia Law Shell tells this story: "In the Congo older men served as night sentries for our missionary homes. They swept our yards, heated our bath water, guarded our houses, and were most useful in carrying notes at night between homes. Going about your business any evening, you would often hear a cough at the door. One night I heard a familiar cough. When I went to the door, I could just make out the figure of Papa Jean, the sentry from the single ladies' house, holding out a note. It was a dark tropical night. No moon or stars were shining. There were no street lights on this isolated mission station. A small six-inch kerosene lantern with a smoky chimney in Papa Jean's hand gave the only smattering of light. 'Such a pitiful little light in such a dark night,' I thought. 'That lamp doesn't give much light, does it, Papa?' I said to him.
"How often I remember that little African sentry. I can learn to trust God for my future, for I have learned that His light does always shine as far as I can step."
-- Good News, Jul/Aug 1990
Worship Resources
By George Reed
OPENING HYMNS AND SONGS
Christ, Whose Glory Fills the Skies
Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise
From the Rising of the Sun
Arise, Shine
CALL TO WORSHIP
Leader: The Light of Christ has come among us!
PEOPLE: WE COME INTO GOD'S LIGHT WITH JOY!
Leader: Open your hearts and receive God's love.
PEOPLE: OUR HEARTS ARE OPEN TO THE LORD.
Leader: The love and light of God heals and renews us.
PEOPLE: THANKS BE TO GOD!
COLLECT/OPENING PRAYER
O God who is the true Light: Grant us the wisdom and courage to forsake the darkness and live in your light; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
We come into your presence and your light this day, O Lord. Renew your Spirit within us that all we do may reflect your goodness and light. Amen.
RESPONSE HYMNS AND SONGS
I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light
We Are the Light of the World
Shine, Jesus, Shine
Open Our Eyes, Lord
Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus
When I Look into Your Holiness
PRAYERS OF CONFESSION/PARDON
In Unison
We come into your light, O God, and confess that we often live in darkness. We are afraid to place our deeds in your light because we know we have not lived faithfully as children of your realm. We have made decisions based on how we look in others' eyes, instead of how you see us. We have lived for ourselves instead of serving others. We have followed lesser lights than the light you have revealed to us in Jesus Christ. Forgive us, Lord, and by the power of your Holy Spirit, send us out into your world as your children who share the light of your presence. (Silent confession.)
Leader:
Hear the Good News! Christ came to save us and not to destroy us. God loves us and forgives us. Receive the grace of God and live in the power of the Holy Spirit.
GENERAL PRAYERS and LITANIES
God, in the very beginning you created light. You have given it to us so that we might see the beauty of creation and praise your Name. You have given us the light of your Spirit so that we might see your gracious actions in our lives and throughout all the world. We worship and adore you for your gift of light.
(The following paragraph is most suitable if a prayer of confession has not been used elsewhere.)
We confess that we have not always used your light well. We have failed to see your goodness in creation and we have failed to follow the light of your Christ. We have hidden in the darkness because we have known that our deeds are self-centered and evil. We have failed to be the reflection of your light in our world. Forgive us, O Lord, and banish the darkness within us that we might be your shining lights in a world of darkness.
We give you thanks for all the ways in which you have blessed us and all creation. We thank you for the beauty of your world and the abundance that you supply for all your children. (Other specific thanksgiving may be offered.) Most of all we thank you for Jesus who has been raised up before us for our healing.
We lift up to you the brokenness of your world.
We pray for those involved in conflict and war ...
For those who are victims of violence ...
For those who are sick or dying ...
For those who have been denied the abundance of your good earth ...
For those who have lost their way in life ...
For ourselves as your people and Christ's Body.
(Other specific intercessions may be offered.)
Hear our prayer and grant us your Spirit, for we pray in the Name of Jesus who taught us to pray, saying,
Our Father ...
CLOSING HYMNS AND SONGS
This Little Light of Mine
Lift High the Cross
His Name Will Shine
The following hymn was written last week by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette especially for this wartime, and is offered here with her permission.
God Whose Love Is Stronger
By Carolyn Winfrey Gillette
Tune: BEACH SPRING 87.87 D "Lord, Whose Love Through Humble Service" (United Methodist Hymnal #581)
God, whose love is always stronger
Than our weakness, pride, and fear,
In your world, we pray and wonder
How to be more faithful here.
Hate too often grows inside us;
Fear rules what the nations do.
So we pray, when wars divide us:
Give us love, Lord. Make us new!
Love is patient, kind and caring,
Never arrogant or rude,
Never boastful, all things bearing;
Love rejoices in the truth.
When we're caught up in believing
War will make the terror cease,
Show us Jesus' way of living;
May our strength be in your peace.
May our faith in you be nourished;
May your churches hear your call.
May our lives be filled with courage
As we speak your love for all.
Now emboldened by your Spirit
Who has given us new birth,
Give us love, that we may share it
Till your love renews the earth!
Copyright 2003 by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette. All rights reserved. 305 South Broadway, Pitman, NJ 08071. (Reprinted with author's permission)
Children's Sermon
By Wes Runk
John 3:14-21
Text: For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God (vs. 20-21).
Object: Candles to be handed out to each child and one for each family attending worship this Sunday.
Good morning, boys and girls. Today we are going to talk about Jesus as the light of the world. Our world needs a little light this week because we are involved in a big war. How many of you know what a war is about? (let them answer) A war between two or more countries causes a lot of hurt. We always pray that there will be another way to solve our problems than with a war. It is the last thing anyone wants to happen, but sometimes it does happen and when it does it causes a lot of pain. Our world gets dark when there is war. Many things become a secret and people are afraid to go places and do things because of a war. When the world gets dark and dreary because men and women are fighting other men and women, our world is filled with crying and hurt. People die in wars and things that took years to build are destroyed in fire.
But when things get very dark, it takes only a little bit of light to make a difference. Our world used to be filled with sin and darkness. And then Jesus came and taught a new kind of religion based on love. Love really changes things. When people love their families and friends, there is joy. When people love strangers and their enemies, then there is not only joy but also forgiveness and peace.
Jesus called himself "the light of the world." I want you to close your eyes really tight and tell me what you see. (let them answer) You see darkness. Does anyone want to live in darkness? (let them answer) I didn't think you wanted to live in darkness, but when we are in sin we are in darkness. It is awful. We need to find answers to our problems and when we need answers, we turn to God. We pray that our lives will change and that God will bring us new hope. God doesn't like darkness either. That is why God gave us a sun and a moon and stars. That is also why God sent Jesus into our world to give us hope and light.
I brought something with me today that I want to share with you. (hold up a candle) What do we call this? (let them answer) I want each one of you to have a candle. (distribute the candles) When you take this candle home with you today, I want you to put it in a special place. I would suggest that you put it on your table where you eat. And every time you sit down to eat, I hope that you and your family will pray for Jesus to show us a way to peace. We pray for the safety of all our soldiers. We pray for leaders to receive wisdom. We pray for Jesus to be a light in our lives and a hope for our world.
There are many other candles that we are going to ask every family to take with them today when they leave church so that they will be praying just like you. We shall send our prayers to God and ask him to give us light, real light, so that all of the people in the world will share our hope that soon joy and hope will come to our world and that all men and women will know that there is one God for all the people in the world.
Today, I ask you and every member of our church to light a candle and say a prayer for Jesus to show us how to live in peace. Amen.
The Immediate Word, March 30, 2003, issue.
Copyright 2003 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
As the Immediate Word team prepares this week's installment, a blinding sandstorm has stalled coalition forces on their way to Baghdad. The contrasts could not be more timely -- we have moved from dazzling displays of firepower, the so-called "shock and awe" bombing campaign, to the near darkness of the blowing storm.
Team member Carlos Wilton finds in the lectionary text from John 3 important images that help us reflect on the images of light and dark in a time of war.
Included with this installment are spirited comments from other team members, excellent illustrations, creative worship materials, and a moving children's sermon.
Lights Over Baghdad
By Carlos E. Wilton
John 3:14-21
"But those who do what is true come to the light..."-- John 3:21a
The Message On A Postcard
In most of our living rooms there is a window. Through it, we can look all the way to Baghdad.
Like most other windows, this one is made of glass -- but it's not the sort of window that's set into a wall. It's the window of our television screens.
In the soft glow of the television, in recent days, we have seen displayed all the horrors of modern war: thoughtfully served up by those reporters "embedded" in the military units of our nation and its coalition partners.
Look! There in the sky, over the minaret tower! A streak of gold: what is it? And over there: a row of bright lights, like fiery pearls on a string. Then there's the rapidly expanding golden flower of God-knows-how-big a bomb, vaporizing some building we can't even see. You might almost say those martial fireworks are beautiful -- were their effects not so horrible.
Many of us have been sitting in front of those glowing electronic windows of ours longer than usual in recent days (and nights). Their ceaseless flow of wartime imagery excites us: for we are watching history in the making, we tell ourselves. Yet those images also have a certain mesmerizing effect. We watch, and after a while we can hardly recall why. We see, but we don't see. We see events that undoubtedly bring pain and death to those in harm's way, but we scarcely feel that pain.
Over the city of Baghdad on these March evenings, there are lights: deadly lights, terrible lights. And all of them, they look so beautiful ...
Some Words On The Word -- John 3:14-21
This, of course, is a portion of the familiar story of Jesus' dialogue with the Pharisee Nicodemus. It's not the whole story, by any means; it's a somewhat artificially carved segment, meant to match up with the Old Testament lectionary passage about Moses' lifting up the serpent on the pole. I'd suggest broadening the reading to include the whole story, if you're going to rely heavily on the John text.
There are three places Nicodemus appears in John's Gospel: the first is here in John 3, where he visits Jesus by night (evidently so as not to be seen). The second is John 7:50ff, when Nicodemus protests the plan of his fellow Pharisees to have Jesus arrested as a false prophet. His opponents deride him, then, with the question of whether or not he, too, is from Galilee -- implying a degree of sympathy with Jesus' cause that goes beyond mere academic interest (7:52). The third episode is when Nicodemus shows up to claim the body of the crucified Jesus, bringing with him an extravagant quantity of burial spices that is vastly greater than what is actually needed (19:38-42).
John portrays Nicodemus in a generally sympathetic light. In the first two episodes of the Nicodemus story, we're never sure of where the Pharisee's sympathies really lie. By the time he shows up as Jesus' undertaker, however, it's clear that this distinguished Pharisee has broken from the pack and is taking substantial risks in order to honor a teacher he has come to respect.
The first part of the third chapter of John has Nicodemus coming to Jesus with some rather pointed questions. After Jesus uses the phrase "born from above," Nicodemus asks his famous question, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?"
In asking that question, the Pharisee is not clueless. After all, this is a man of tremendous learning, a theologian and scholar of the scriptures. Rather, he's engaging -- somewhat playfully, it seems -- in a Socratic-method style of questioning that's meant to expose any error in the man who is the object of his questioning. Nicodemus begins by trying to trap Jesus; and his intent may not be wholly friendly.
John never tells us here how Nicodemus' interaction with Jesus comes out. As is so typical with this gospel-writer, Nicodemus' questions are a springboard for more extended discourse, and John never gets around to tying up the loose ends of the narrative. We can only infer, from the two further, very sketchy episodes in the Nicodemus story, that he has been won over by Jesus, becoming more or less a follower.
All this is background to our lectionary selection, 3:14-21, which abruptly begins with Jesus' allusion to Numbers 21:4-9, moves on from there to the famous "For God so loved the world..." saying of John 3:16, and then to Jesus' assurance to believers frightened of God's wrath that the divine purpose is salvation, and that all who come to the light may be confident of receiving that inestimable gift. That light is Jesus himself: "God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him" (3:17).
A Map of the Message
In these exceedingly difficult, early days of the second Gulf War, the image of coming to the light has much to recommend it to the preacher. Memories of the aerial bombardment of Baghdad -- at least as we've witnessed it from afar on our television screens -- are by now seared into the memories of many of our listeners. Those golden lights hanging in the skies over Baghdad, while beautiful, are in fact something very different. They are heralds of death.
A question that can readily be posed from the pulpit this week is: "To which light do we come?" Do we come to the seductive lights of the world's power (as symbolized by those lights over Baghdad), which entice us as moths to a flame -- or do we come to a greater light? Do we come to the lights of the world -- or to the Light of the World, Jesus Christ?
Those in our world who plan wars, and wage wars, frequently try to portray them as a glorious enterprise. They celebrate -- and rightly so -- the honor and courage of those foot soldiers who do the hardest work of war (and sometimes, just as honorably and courageously, give their lives). They celebrate high-sounding ideals, like justice and freedom -- and promise that war will bring these things to the nation defeated. They pin medals on the chests of the survivors.
Yet in truth, war is never glorious. Those who claim otherwise are not telling the whole truth. There is no glory in the bombing of inhabited cities -- however "smart" the bombs we drop on them may be. Always war represents failure: failure of diplomacy, failure of understanding, failure of love.
As I say these things about war, I have no intention of undermining the courage and sacrifice of the men and women of our nation's armed services who are even now on the battlefield. They deserve our support, and our prayers. Nor do I wish to undermine the courage and sacrifice of those ordinary Iraqi soldiers who oppose them: believing, as many of them surely do, that by taking a gun in their hands they're defending their homeland.
Sometimes there is courage and virtue in war: but when there is, it is most often the work of individual soldiers. As for war itself, it can only be a human tragedy. No matter how necessary a war may seem to be, always it is a grim choice between two alternatives, both of them bad. The lesser of two evils is still evil.
No matter how fascinating (and even lovely) the lights over Baghdad may be, they are the harbingers of death and destruction.
Our listeners this Sunday will probably have a variety of opinions about the war. Although polls now report upwards of 70% of Americans as being in favor of the military intervention in Iraq, those figures were not so overwhelming only a short time ago, when only a slight majority favored invasion. The spike in the numbers is surely attributable to the desire of many Americans to stand behind our nation's troops, who have now placed themselves in harm's way. A significant number of those former skeptics who have recently switched may still have quiet misgivings.
Wartime preaching is difficult. Emotions run high. We preachers have somehow got to steer a course between the Scylla of failing to address the deep patriotic feelings of many of our people and the Charybdis of inappropriately wrapping ourselves in the flag.
General Omar Bradley knew all about war. He was General Eisenhower's second-in-command during World War II. After that particular conflict was over, as our nation was entering the forty-year arms race that came to be called the Cold War, Bradley had this to say about the enterprise that had been his life's work:
[We are] stumbling blindly through a spiritual darkness, while playing with the precarious secrets of life and death. The world has achieved brilliance without wisdom, power without conscience. Ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants. We know more about war than we know about peace, more about killing than we know about living. (Armistice Day speech, Nov. 11, 1948)
President Eisenhower himself (General Bradley's boss) issued the orders that sent thousands of young soldiers to the beaches of Normandy: there to look death in the eye. Eisenhower had an accurate understanding of the magnitude of the decisions he had to make, as supreme commander of Allied forces. Later, after the war, he spoke these famous words:
Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. The world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children ... This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron. [Speech, April 16, 1953]
Another President who bore the heavy weight of responsibility in sending soldiers to the battlefield was Abraham Lincoln. A play by John Drinkwater contains a scene from Lincoln's life that may or may not be true; but even if it's not, it's true to the character of this greatest of all wartime presidents.
At a social event, Lincoln encounters a woman who's an avid supporter of the Union cause. He mentions to her that he's just received news of a great victory: the Confederate army has lost 2700 men, and the Union only 800. "How splendid!" she replies with enthusiasm.
Lincoln is taken aback: "How can you be so thrilled at the loss of 3500 lives?" he asks.
"Oh, you must not think like that, Mr. President," the woman replies. "There were only 800 that mattered."
Lincoln is silent for a moment, and his eyes fill with tears. "Madam," he says slowly, "the world is larger than your heart." (From John Drinkwater's Abraham Lincoln)
The patriotic hearts of many in our nation thrill to the televised sight of the lights over Baghdad; but it's sobering to remember Lincoln's insight that the world is, indeed, larger than our hearts.
Team Comments
Carter Shelley comments: I once wrote a sermon on this text titled "The Twilight Zone." While the title came from the television show in which weird, scary, and inexplicable things happened to people, I used the term to describe the state of semi-grace that many Christians occupy. They identify themselves as Christian, but are not active members of a church. They claim to affirm the basic tenets of Christianity, yet are not moved or touched at the core of their being to live out that faith in meaningful and significant ways as part of a worshiping community of faith. Thus, they, as well as some of us who are members of a church and regular participants, may inhabit a religious twilight zone. In this twilight zone lukewarm Christians allow our faith to be a part of our lives, but not the force that directs our lives.
The author of the Gospel of John would have been horrified at such complacent Christianity. In John 3:14-21 no room is provided for indecision, hesitation, or twilight zones. Either one is exposed to the light and tries to seek it, or denies the light and hides in the dark. For John and other first century Christians, there was great imperative to be Christian. Being a Christian didn't make a difference in their life; it made all the difference.
Not having the advantages and knowledge that 21 centuries of study and discovery have given us today, much that we consider commonplace and self-explanatory was terrifying and threatening to first century people. A change in the moon's appearance, a widespread sickness, a curious event, would all be explained in terms of darkness, of the unknown. Because people did not know epilepsy was a common and treatable illness, it was understood in the language of demon possession.
Life was difficult, frightening, and often evil. By the time John wrote the fourth Gospel, much had happened in the Roman Empire to suggest that a terrible wickedness and darkness ruled the earth. The wickedness and degeneracy of many of the Roman emperors, such as Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, and Domitian, were reflected in the cruelty of the gladiator sports and the relish for suffering the common people displayed in their readiness to attend public executions and slaughters in the Coliseum.
Living in a world where witnessing crucifixions and people being fed to lions or being burnt at the stake was considered recreation, the first century Christians had a strong sense of either/or. Either one chose the darkness and evil of their contemporary world, or one sought the salvific light of compassion, hope, and love offered by God through God's Son Jesus.
During the current war between our country and Iraq, we have access to similar horrors through the flick of a television remote. Thus far the images we have seen appear more like firework displays than the destruction of Baghdad with an accompanying loss of lives. Few of us would call it entertainment. Yet we can be caught by both the miracle of television and military technology our 21st century world provides.
The affirmation of this biblical text reminds us that even during times of war and great suffering, the world is not controlled by presidents, dictators, or by fate; it is governed by the will of a personal and loving God. John's message was sent to persecuted Christians in the early church offering them a beacon of hope.
Isn't it interesting how testy and angry this war has made people? To be pro-peace rather than pro-war gets interpreted as being unpatriotic. Our soldiers are seen as heroes who deserve our prayers and our support, because they are sacrificing their lives for the ultimate cause: freedom for our country. Putting aside the fact that we are the most powerful nation in the world and the fact that Iraq poses a mild threat to our ultimate security, isn't it interesting that men and women are sent into battle with good wishes and enthusiastic flag-waving? They are sacrificing their lives for our country.
But as Christians, our first loyalty is not to the United States of America. As Christians, our first loyalty is to the one who sacrificed himself for us. As Christians, we are called to live our lives and, if need be, to sacrifice our lives for Jesus Christ. Yet how many political rallies, how many contested debates, how much news coverage do we offer on behalf of our Lord and Savior? Is it because we prefer darkness to the light that we can enthusiastically support or oppose war with Iraq?
Is this war really about freedom for the Iraqi people? Or is it about power? Human power. Which country is more powerful? Which country's will will prevail on the international scene in the coming decades?
But Christianity is not about power. Christianity is about powerlessness. God relinquishes power in sending God's Son into our world. "God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."
Carlos describes the seemingly hypnotic effects that the bursts of light over Baghdad have had on us as we watch in fascinated horror the bombings taking place. Those lights are not the true light. Those lights that momentarily lightened the night skies over Iraq are harbingers of darkness. "And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil."
Political power is the power of darkness. In her book The Rock That is Higher author Madeleine L'Engle writes:
I don't think God needs our protection! God is All in All, and all that Love's radiance asks is our love in return, not our protection. Indeed, in him there is no darkness at all, but there is darkness in us whenever we turn our backs on love. If I am secure in God's perfect love, I will have no fear, for love casts out fear.1
Earlier in this same book, L'Engle describes her exchange with a Bible College faculty that had invited her to teach a workshop for them. In it she offers a helpful reading of John's affirmation:
I was given their statement of faith to sign. I read it, found it unscriptural, and pushed it aside. There was no way I could sign it.
They called me. "Where's the statement of faith?"
I spoke to the dean of this Bible college. "It's unscriptural. I'm sorry. I can't sign it."
I read him point three, which was one of the two points out of conscience that I could not sign. "Because of the fall we are in such a state of sin and depravity that we are justly under God's wrath and condemnation." Point four said that the only way God could forgive us for all this sin and depravity was for Jesus to come and get crucified. "What this is saying," I told the dean, "is that Jesus had to come save us from God the Father. I don't believe that Jesus had to come save us from God the Father. Scripture says, 'God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son.' The birth of Jesus showed God's love, not God's anger. This is what the Bible says, and this is what I believe.2
Notes
1 L'Engle, Madeleine. The Rock that is Higher: Story as Truth. Wheaton Illinois: Howard Shaw 1993, p.119
2 p. 72
Stan Purdum comments: Carlos, you've done well with a subject on which it is hard to render many definitive statements. In the midst of conflict, it is exceedingly difficult to remember the humanity of those we label "enemy," which perhaps is a reminder of how limited all of us created beings are and how far we are from our Creator.
It occurs to me that an additional scriptural link from your Abraham Lincoln story is 1 John 3:20: -- "for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything."
George Murphy comments: First: Can we say that the lights over Baghdad are simply opposed to the Light of the World? We can't simply speak of "war" in the abstract as good or evil without attention to context. Certainly we could say, e.g., that the U.S. war with Mexico was wrong. On the other hand, I think it would be a sign of moral confusion, at best, to say that military opposition to Nazism was wrong. And if one believes that God is really active in the world and operates through secondary causes, it's even a little risky to picture "God" as a strict pacifist. Luther's distinction between God's "alien work" and God's "proper work" is relevant here. The former -- work of condemnation -- and destruction must be done for the sake of the latter -- works of mercy, and love.
The Lincoln (or Drinkwater) story is important, but let's not forget what Lincoln did. He certainly felt the burden of the thousands of wounded and killed in the Civil War. But he did prosecute that war, which was in a sense the first modern technological conflict, in some ways quite ruthlessly, and was denounced as a butcher by those who thought that the disruption of the Union and the continuance of slavery would have been a price worth paying for peace.
None of which is intended as a "proof" that the present war with Iraq was justified. Christian decision making about war and peace can be hard. Peace always has to be the goal, but sometimes a price does have to be paid for it.
Second: What is the light to which we are to come? In the Fourth Gospel the light
of the world is Christ (e.g., John 8:12). And because Christians have been illumined by this light, they in turn are to be "the light of the world" (Matthew 5:14 - cf. Joachim
Jeremias, The Sermon on the Mount [Fortress, 1963], p.26) in fulfillment of Isaiah 49:6.
Third: Is Nicodemus really engaging Jesus in Socratic dialogue? Or do we have here the typical Johannine pattern of statements that can be understood on two levels, the obvious and wrong one, and the correct one? "You must be born anew." "Duh -- how can I get back inside my mother to be born anew?" (and that exchange in vv.3-4 should, I think, make us a bit careful about the claim that anothen should be translated as "from Above" rather than "again.")
I guess my only other comment, in view of the strong Johannine emphasis on Jesus as "the light of the world," is we can be more specific than simply "the light of God." And since he is the light of the "world" we should avoid purely individualistic concepts of being enlightened.
Carlos Wilton responds to George Murphy: George wrote: "Can we say that the lights over Baghdad are simply opposed to the Light of the World?"
I think we can. War is evil, although it is sometimes -- on rare occasions -- less of an evil than the alternative. (Pacifists would of course disagree.) As I said in my earlier remarks, we ought not to lose sight of the fact that the lesser of two evils is still evil.
Despite portions of the Hebrew Scriptures, I am reluctant to portray God, in light of the new covenant in Jesus Christ, as the captain of armies. I'm more comfortable understanding God as permitting war to happen, as part of the fallenness of creation -- much as God permits other forms of evil to triumph for a time, until the day of the final consummation, when every tear will be wiped from every eye. When soldiers take the battlefield, I believe God weeps for the fallen of both sides.
If I am right in what I say above, and there are certain rare, lesser-of-two-evils situations when Christians must go to war, then how ought they to do so? With sad resignation, but also with steely determination to do what must be done. Let us not glorify a grim choice between two unpalatable alternatives, but let us get the job done, as swiftly and as humanely as possible. And when we are finished, let us do as Job did, and repent in dust and ashes for the fallenness of our human condition.
Mark Irons responds: This current war is filled with irony, and irony fits well with the third chapter of John. It is ironic that a war that seeks to liberate the Iraqi people is seen by many Arabs to be a horrible intrusion by an outsider into the sphere of the Arab Muslim world. It is ironic that we would hold the Iraqis to the letter of international law in the treatment of prisoners of war after our nation has thumbed our nose at the United Nations processes and have our own photographed prisoners in Guantanamo Bay. It is ironic that we are repelled by the religious rhetoric tied to war and terrorism by some in the Arab world while people in our own nation claim our own holy agenda in this conflict.
And the passage at hand is ultimately about light while the war is being fought, in large part, under the cover of night. Military commanders claim that this gives our troops a tactical advantage because of our superior technology. Interestingly, this provides a more spectacular picture for those "embedded" journalists as the fired munitions show up, as Carlos Wilton points out, as dazzling "martial fireworks." Away from the light of day, the war proceeds. This text proclaims, "... those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God."
This conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus leads to some mixed metaphors as the Gospel of John shares it. Throughout this passage, John pairs contradictory terms: exultation and crucifixion, condemnation and salvation, light and darkness. Jesus refers to Moses' lifting up of the serpent in the wilderness (NRSV) or desert (NIV). For Moses, this was a recognition of the ancient association between snakes and healing, another irony. Those who had been bitten by a snake would look upon the bronze serpent on the pole and would live. Jesus uses the dual meaning of the word huposoo to speak both of his ascension and his crucifixion. He would be lifted up and exalted, but only by way of being elevated upon a cross first.
So, are we merely to wallow in the muck of irony, or can we do something with John's language? Irony is a more realistic picture of life than the black and white portrayals that so many of us like. We are a people of irony. We live in the richest, most prosperous, nation of the world, and yet millions are caught in the web of poverty with poor or nonexistent health care. We claim to be a Christian nation, and yet, as individuals, we are Christian only to the point where it doesn't interfere with our desired lifestyle. We want the title of righteous Christian but don't want the dirt that comes with humble servitude. We wave the flags of freedom, democracy, and opportunity, but for years have supported regimes that espouse none of those things for the sake of economic or political expediency.
John would have us fully recognize, if not celebrate, the irony. After all, the gnostics who John purposely countered in his Gospel, choose to try to minimize the irony of Christ's identity. John uses irony, I believe, to recognize it as a part of life and as a part of the gospel. The richness of his imagery and his persistent contrasting of contradictory ideas is not for the purpose of tricking the reader, but to hold it up before us as a signpost for the greater reality. Don't ignore the irony! Don't ignore the great gift of life and light that is in our midst. Only through the irony can we fully receive the fullness of God's life and salvation. Only through the irony can we hope to address the crazy contradictions of the world in which we live.
Illustrations
There's an old Jewish story of a wise rabbi, who once asked his followers how they could tell when the night had ended and the day had begun. "Could it be," asked one of the students, "when you can see an animal in the distance and can tell whether it's a sheep or a dog?"
"No," answered the rabbi.
"Is it," asked another, "when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it's a fig tree or a peach tree?"
"No, that answer too is wrong."
"Then when is it?" asked the students.
"It is when you can look on the face of any man or woman and see that it is your sister or brother. Because if you cannot see this, it is still night."
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This past Ash Wednesday, the poet Ann Weems published a new poem:
I No Longer Pray for Peace
On the edge of war, one foot already in,
I no longer pray for peace:
I pray for miracles.
I pray that stone hearts will turn to tenderheartedness,
and evil intentions will turn to mercifulness,
and all the soldiers already deployed
will be snatched out of harm's way,
and the whole world will be astounded onto its knees.
I pray that all the "God talk" will take bones,
and stand up and shed its cloak of faithlessness,
and walk again in its powerful truth.
I pray that the whole world might sit down together and share
its bread and its wine.
Some say there is no hope,
but then I've always applauded the holy fools
who never seem to give up on the scandalousness of our faith:
that we are loved by God ...
that we can truly love one another.
I no longer pray for peace:
I pray for miracles.
http://www.churchworldservice.org/news/Iraq/weems-poem.html
Copyright (c) 2003 by Ann Weems. All rights reserved. Email: aweems7@swbell.net
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Those who are interested in being a bit provocative on the anti-war side may find it useful to consult, or even re-tell, the short story of Mark Twain (unpublished until after his death), called "The War Prayer." It even takes place in church:
http://www.arts.adelaide.edu.au/personal/DHart/ETexts/War/MarkTwain/WarP...
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Naturally the common people don't want war, but after all it is the leaders who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country.
-- Hermann Goering, April 1946
Both the Mark Twain story and the Goering quotation raise the subject of hostility directed against the "doves" by the "hawks." A sermon could perhaps acknowledge that the thoughts and prayers of many are with our soldiers risking their lives on the battlefield, but at the same time warn against the sort of war fever that pits neighbor against neighbor.
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The first casualty of any war is truth. Inevitably each side cloaks itself in myths of righteousness. The Iraqis must believe Saddam's propaganda, and we believe our president when he calls us to "go forward to defend freedom and all that is good and just in the world," even as we had to believe his father when he called us "to free Kuwait." Of course, most of us now believe that the Gulf War was more about oil than it was about freedom. Is this war really so different? Does America really represent all that is good and just in the world?
In order to fight, a nation must also demonize its enemy. For this task, unfortunately, we again have the help of some of our clergy. On television, I recently heard one prominent evangelist say that Islam itself is evil; and another say that Mohammed was a pedophile. There are others who are suggesting that Muslims are hate-filled people who affirm terrorism and pray for the decimation of the United States. Such lies serve a terrible purpose. Only by demonizing our enemies can we kill them with impunity.
The humanity of our "enemies" doesn't seem to register with many Christians these days. I heard one evangelical leader say that Desert Storm was carried out with a minimum number of casualties. Of course, he was referring only to U.S. casualties, because in the context of war those on the other side don't matter. Only our dead matter. Actually, there were 35,000 civilians killed during Desert Storm. I'm grateful for the many other Christian leaders proclaiming that God is no respecter of persons and has as much love for Iraqis as he does for Americans. When Iraqis or Americans die, God weeps....
When I consider the realities of war, I wonder whether the good which may be achieved can ever outweigh the evil that is sure to come. Perhaps it would be best for preachers to admit, as did the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, that the choice is not between the moral and the immoral, but between the immoral and the less moral. And, please let us not talk about a just war anymore.
-- Tony Campolo, On Preaching the Truth About War, From the Prism Epistle, 1/15/03
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/PrismEpistle/message/88
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"Those little white lights are heat images of people on foot. They're about to be attacked. That fellow running out in the open -- were he and the people killed members of al Qaeda, or just coming to worship? We'll never know. But surely their mothers do.
And there will be mothers like them in Iraq. Saddam won't mind -- dead or alive, and we won't mind, either. The spoils of victory include amnesia."
-- Bill Moyers http://www.pbs.org/now/commentary/moyers14.html
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"Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned."
--Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre, chapter 4 (1847).
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"To choose one's victims, to prepare one's plan minutely, to slake an implacable vengeance, and then to go to bed ... there is nothing sweeter in the world."
--Josef Stalin, quoted in Robert Conquest, Lenin's Guffaw, New Republic (Washington, D.C., Sept. 15, 1986).
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"It really boils down to this: that all life is interrelated, tied into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. We are made to live together because of the interrelated structure of reality. Did you ever stop to think that you can't leave for your job in the morning without being dependent on most of the world? You get up in the morning and go to the bathroom and you reach for a bar of soap, and that's given to you at the hands of a Frenchman. And then you go into the kitchen to drink your coffee for the morning, and that's poured into your cup by a South American. And maybe you want tea: that's poured into your cup by a Chinese. Or maybe you're desirous of having cocoa for breakfast, and that's poured into your cup by a West African. And then you reach over for your toast, and that's given to you at the hands of an English-speaking farmer, not to mention the baker. And before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you've depended on more than half the world. This is the way our universe is structured; this is its interrelated quality. We aren't going to have peace on Earth until we recognize this basic fact of the interrelated structure of all reality."
-- Martin Luther King, Jr., A Christmas Sermon on Peace, 1967
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"If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility."
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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"It made me think of Mother Teresa and the Catholic writer Henri Nouwen, who was a priest. He went to her once and poured out his problems -- he wasn't appreciated, he was misunderstood, higher-ups weren't helping him in his good work. "You wouldn't be having these problems if you prayed more," she said. And that's all she said. At first Nouwen felt resentful -- he had expected encouragement, sympathy, solidarity. Instead he got a blunt statement that he knew, in a moment, was true. He really wouldn't be having these problems if he prayed more. So he went home and prayed. And the problems became manageable, and life did not end.
Which got me thinking this: It is easier to fight than to pray. In fact it's much easier to fight than to pray. It's one of the reasons we do more of the former than the latter.
And fighting is hard. But it's not the hardest thing of all the things we could do. The hardest thing is this: I have been reading about Karol Wojtyla during World War II, long before he became Pope John Paul II. Mr. Wojtyla was in his late teens when the war started, and after the Nazis invaded Poland he worked manual labor, on the freezing overnight shift at a factory, outdoors, breaking and carrying rocks. He was ill fed, grew thin, suffered. He had only one pair of shoes, and they were wooden. What energy he had after work he gave to art, to help keep Polish drama alive, for he felt that art would help his nation live. He was unusually generous with others, shared what he had, was known for a particular kindness. He helped friends in the Resistance, but he did not join them. Why? Because, as he told a friend, the only resistance that would work was asking God's help. "The only thing that will be effective is prayer." So he quietly and constantly prayed, for the liberation of Poland and the end of Nazism and the safety of his jailed and abused Jewish and Christian friends.
Prayer is the hardest thing. And no one congratulates you for doing it because no one knows you're doing it, and if things turn out well they likely won't thank God in any case.
But I have a feeling that the hardest thing is what we all better be doing now, and that it's not only the best answer but the only one."
--From an article entitled, "Fighting is Easier Then Praying," by former White House speechwriter Peggy Noonan; The Wall Street Journal.
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Clancy McCartney, a seventh-grader from St. Gabriel's School in San Francisco, California, was assigned to write an essay that paralleled E.B. White's renowned essay on "Democracy." Clancy's mother, SojoMail subscriber Sarah Stockton, describes him as "a typical 12-year-old in many ways; he plays basketball and Nintendo, likes to read, serves as an altar boy, and tries hard to do well in seventh grade." This is what he wrote:
Surely Everyone Knows
by Clancy McCartney
Surely everyone knows what war is. It is the devil holding up the hand of the victor. It is the dark rain cloud that covers the whole world. It is the death of men who thought their sacrifice to be necessary. It is the graveyard that runs for miles and miles; it is the sound of a whistle slowly getting softer. War is a flag standing proudly over countless bodies. It is the bugs flying straight into a light bulb, the fire that slowly spreads, the screams of those who fought not for their god but for their country. War is the snake poised to strike at the girl collecting flowers. War is the person who fights for the dirt he spilt blood on. It is the crowd cheering for their country in a death match. It's the people rushing to join the cause that will help destroy the lives of thousands. War is a misunderstanding of what it means to be loving.
-- Sojomail (electronic newsletter of the Sojourners community), May 1, 2002
http://www.sojo.net/index.cfm?action=sojomail.display&issue=050102
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Do not be too quick to assume that your enemy is an enemy of God just because he is your enemy. Perhaps he is your enemy precisely because he can find nothing in you that gives glory to God. Perhaps he fears you because he can find nothing in you of God's love and God's kindness and God's patience and mercy and understanding of the weaknesses of men.
Do not be too quick to condemn the man who no longer believes in God, for it is perhaps your own coldness and avarice, your mediocrity and materialism, your sensuality and selfishness that have killed his faith.
-- Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, (Norton, 1974)
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"Light: What is it? It is not something to search for; it is something to search by. NO man by searching can find out God; but, if he takes God without searching, he will find everything else. My evidence for God is what he shows me. I must have a torch to begin with. The room is dark, and I have lost something -- the key to my own nature. I cannot find it till I have struck a light. There must be light in my hand before I come in -- light on the threshold, light at the very door. My progress must not be from the dark into the clear, but from the clear into the dark. God is his own interpreter. In God's light shall we see light."
-- George Matheson, O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go: Meditations, Prayers and Poems (London: Collins, 1990), 75.
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Missionary Virginia Law Shell tells this story: "In the Congo older men served as night sentries for our missionary homes. They swept our yards, heated our bath water, guarded our houses, and were most useful in carrying notes at night between homes. Going about your business any evening, you would often hear a cough at the door. One night I heard a familiar cough. When I went to the door, I could just make out the figure of Papa Jean, the sentry from the single ladies' house, holding out a note. It was a dark tropical night. No moon or stars were shining. There were no street lights on this isolated mission station. A small six-inch kerosene lantern with a smoky chimney in Papa Jean's hand gave the only smattering of light. 'Such a pitiful little light in such a dark night,' I thought. 'That lamp doesn't give much light, does it, Papa?' I said to him.
"How often I remember that little African sentry. I can learn to trust God for my future, for I have learned that His light does always shine as far as I can step."
-- Good News, Jul/Aug 1990
Worship Resources
By George Reed
OPENING HYMNS AND SONGS
Christ, Whose Glory Fills the Skies
Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise
From the Rising of the Sun
Arise, Shine
CALL TO WORSHIP
Leader: The Light of Christ has come among us!
PEOPLE: WE COME INTO GOD'S LIGHT WITH JOY!
Leader: Open your hearts and receive God's love.
PEOPLE: OUR HEARTS ARE OPEN TO THE LORD.
Leader: The love and light of God heals and renews us.
PEOPLE: THANKS BE TO GOD!
COLLECT/OPENING PRAYER
O God who is the true Light: Grant us the wisdom and courage to forsake the darkness and live in your light; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
We come into your presence and your light this day, O Lord. Renew your Spirit within us that all we do may reflect your goodness and light. Amen.
RESPONSE HYMNS AND SONGS
I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light
We Are the Light of the World
Shine, Jesus, Shine
Open Our Eyes, Lord
Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus
When I Look into Your Holiness
PRAYERS OF CONFESSION/PARDON
In Unison
We come into your light, O God, and confess that we often live in darkness. We are afraid to place our deeds in your light because we know we have not lived faithfully as children of your realm. We have made decisions based on how we look in others' eyes, instead of how you see us. We have lived for ourselves instead of serving others. We have followed lesser lights than the light you have revealed to us in Jesus Christ. Forgive us, Lord, and by the power of your Holy Spirit, send us out into your world as your children who share the light of your presence. (Silent confession.)
Leader:
Hear the Good News! Christ came to save us and not to destroy us. God loves us and forgives us. Receive the grace of God and live in the power of the Holy Spirit.
GENERAL PRAYERS and LITANIES
God, in the very beginning you created light. You have given it to us so that we might see the beauty of creation and praise your Name. You have given us the light of your Spirit so that we might see your gracious actions in our lives and throughout all the world. We worship and adore you for your gift of light.
(The following paragraph is most suitable if a prayer of confession has not been used elsewhere.)
We confess that we have not always used your light well. We have failed to see your goodness in creation and we have failed to follow the light of your Christ. We have hidden in the darkness because we have known that our deeds are self-centered and evil. We have failed to be the reflection of your light in our world. Forgive us, O Lord, and banish the darkness within us that we might be your shining lights in a world of darkness.
We give you thanks for all the ways in which you have blessed us and all creation. We thank you for the beauty of your world and the abundance that you supply for all your children. (Other specific thanksgiving may be offered.) Most of all we thank you for Jesus who has been raised up before us for our healing.
We lift up to you the brokenness of your world.
We pray for those involved in conflict and war ...
For those who are victims of violence ...
For those who are sick or dying ...
For those who have been denied the abundance of your good earth ...
For those who have lost their way in life ...
For ourselves as your people and Christ's Body.
(Other specific intercessions may be offered.)
Hear our prayer and grant us your Spirit, for we pray in the Name of Jesus who taught us to pray, saying,
Our Father ...
CLOSING HYMNS AND SONGS
This Little Light of Mine
Lift High the Cross
His Name Will Shine
The following hymn was written last week by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette especially for this wartime, and is offered here with her permission.
God Whose Love Is Stronger
By Carolyn Winfrey Gillette
Tune: BEACH SPRING 87.87 D "Lord, Whose Love Through Humble Service" (United Methodist Hymnal #581)
God, whose love is always stronger
Than our weakness, pride, and fear,
In your world, we pray and wonder
How to be more faithful here.
Hate too often grows inside us;
Fear rules what the nations do.
So we pray, when wars divide us:
Give us love, Lord. Make us new!
Love is patient, kind and caring,
Never arrogant or rude,
Never boastful, all things bearing;
Love rejoices in the truth.
When we're caught up in believing
War will make the terror cease,
Show us Jesus' way of living;
May our strength be in your peace.
May our faith in you be nourished;
May your churches hear your call.
May our lives be filled with courage
As we speak your love for all.
Now emboldened by your Spirit
Who has given us new birth,
Give us love, that we may share it
Till your love renews the earth!
Copyright 2003 by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette. All rights reserved. 305 South Broadway, Pitman, NJ 08071. (Reprinted with author's permission)
Children's Sermon
By Wes Runk
John 3:14-21
Text: For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God (vs. 20-21).
Object: Candles to be handed out to each child and one for each family attending worship this Sunday.
Good morning, boys and girls. Today we are going to talk about Jesus as the light of the world. Our world needs a little light this week because we are involved in a big war. How many of you know what a war is about? (let them answer) A war between two or more countries causes a lot of hurt. We always pray that there will be another way to solve our problems than with a war. It is the last thing anyone wants to happen, but sometimes it does happen and when it does it causes a lot of pain. Our world gets dark when there is war. Many things become a secret and people are afraid to go places and do things because of a war. When the world gets dark and dreary because men and women are fighting other men and women, our world is filled with crying and hurt. People die in wars and things that took years to build are destroyed in fire.
But when things get very dark, it takes only a little bit of light to make a difference. Our world used to be filled with sin and darkness. And then Jesus came and taught a new kind of religion based on love. Love really changes things. When people love their families and friends, there is joy. When people love strangers and their enemies, then there is not only joy but also forgiveness and peace.
Jesus called himself "the light of the world." I want you to close your eyes really tight and tell me what you see. (let them answer) You see darkness. Does anyone want to live in darkness? (let them answer) I didn't think you wanted to live in darkness, but when we are in sin we are in darkness. It is awful. We need to find answers to our problems and when we need answers, we turn to God. We pray that our lives will change and that God will bring us new hope. God doesn't like darkness either. That is why God gave us a sun and a moon and stars. That is also why God sent Jesus into our world to give us hope and light.
I brought something with me today that I want to share with you. (hold up a candle) What do we call this? (let them answer) I want each one of you to have a candle. (distribute the candles) When you take this candle home with you today, I want you to put it in a special place. I would suggest that you put it on your table where you eat. And every time you sit down to eat, I hope that you and your family will pray for Jesus to show us a way to peace. We pray for the safety of all our soldiers. We pray for leaders to receive wisdom. We pray for Jesus to be a light in our lives and a hope for our world.
There are many other candles that we are going to ask every family to take with them today when they leave church so that they will be praying just like you. We shall send our prayers to God and ask him to give us light, real light, so that all of the people in the world will share our hope that soon joy and hope will come to our world and that all men and women will know that there is one God for all the people in the world.
Today, I ask you and every member of our church to light a candle and say a prayer for Jesus to show us how to live in peace. Amen.
The Immediate Word, March 30, 2003, issue.
Copyright 2003 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
