This Little Light Of Mine Is Yours And Everybody Else's Too
Sermon
Between Gloom and Glory
First Lesson Sermons For Advent/Christmas/Epiphany
"Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn." When the disciple of the prophet Isaiah wrote these words, some of the Israelites had returned from exile to Jerusalem. The great and glorious time of reconstruction and reformation that they expected had not materialized. Instead, they were overwhelmed by the immensity of the task. They were out of money and running low on energy. Their economy was in ruins. The work of rebuilding the city and the Temple was staggering. Verse 2 of the reading for today describes their feelings well: thick darkness covers the people. They are tired, weary, and emotionally spent. They have no energy left for anything, let alone rebuilding a country.
I wonder, when I read those lines from Isaiah 60, if the people didn't get up and leave the first time they heard them read. Why would they bother to stay? The words are a promise that God is going to be manifest, that is, seen, in the very context of their lives in that day.
Can't you hear the people wondering out loud, "What? Is he crazy? Does he really expect us to believe that God is going to be made real in the midst of this mess?" Isn't it funny how sometimes the people who are the most surprised by God's presence are the ones who are the most faithful in the practice of their beliefs?
There's a story from the Old West about a saloon that was built right next to a church. The congregation was very upset. They prayed during the planning and building of the tavern that God would intervene and do something. The day before the grand opening of this new saloon a lightning bolt struck it, started a fire, and burned it to the ground. The church people rejoiced. The saloon owner sued! He decided that this act of God was what they were praying for, so therefore they owed him damages. The congregation's leaders vehemently denied the claim. After both arguments had been presented in court the judge said, "Well, I don't know how I'm going to rule on this one, but this appears to be the situation: the owner of the saloon believes in the power of prayer, and these church people don't."
We laugh, but there is truth in that story. For it seems that the people who sometimes have the hardest time believing in the presence of God are the very people who proclaim to the world that God desires to be made known in their lives.
I knew a woman in Northern California who had asked her church to pray for her. She had very painful arthritis in her hands. She wanted it to get better. She had been forced to retire early because the pain was so debilitating. One day, several months after taking retirement, she woke up with no pain. A week went by, and yet, no pain. She went to see her doctor. He could find little evidence of her former condition. She wondered if she had been healed. She wondered if her prayers had been answered. The only explanation she could come up with was the unbelievable one: she had been healed. The next Sunday she arrived for worship excited about her healing. She wanted to tell everyone. She told the first person she saw, "My arthritis is gone! I've been healed." The response from this person was less than enthusiastic: "Oh. Really? It sounds to me like your medication finally began to pay off." She told another person. He responded by saying, "It'll return. Just wait. It always does." She told a few more persons, but most of them just smiled and said, "Oh, really? That's nice." By the end of the worship service she was completely deflated. She went home depressed and saddened. The lesson here is that we need to be careful about sharing our spiritual highs and miracles with our church friends and neighbors. Someone's faith and common sense will be challenged and they won't like it!
However, the prophet speaking in today's text doesn't care about the nay-sayers and the common-sense faith practitioners. He speaks a bold word in the midst of a depressing situation. He proclaims to the people who are overwhelmed by the task of rebuilding a nation that they will be the very ones through whom the light of God will shine. The nations of the world (that means everybody), will see God through them. The dawn of God's new day is about to break out upon the darkness of their discouragement.
"Look around," the prophet says, "because you are about to be overwhelmed by the amazing presence of God. Not only will all of your relatives be returning, but the wealth of all the nations will find its way to Israel, too." The prophet is exaggerating, but good preachers know when to do that. Sometimes, in order to make a point, the preacher needs to get a little hyperbolic in order to get people's attention. The prophet wants them to know that here and now, through these very people, God is beginning the work of reconciling the world.
My friend Frank died a few years ago from cancer. He was only fifty. I met him just a few months before he passed away. He came into my office and said, "I have been out of the church since I was eighteen, but I want to come back. I won't pretend like this was something I had thought about before I was diagnosed with cancer. But when the cancer came on I didn't know where else to turn. I also need to tell you that I am mad as hell at God for giving me this cancer. If that offends you, then I'll leave right now."
He and I had some amazing conversations over the next few weeks. He talked less and less about his anger and more and more about the idea of a merciful God.
Frank wanted to know about grace. He could not understand how God could be so forgiving. "It doesn't make any sense," he would say. After a few more conversations he called me and told me that he was ready to join the church. "I worry about any church that will accept me," he laughed. "But I am as ready now to make this decision as I ever will be."
The next day he was in the ICU. His body was failing fast. I went to see him. After I got there he said, "I don't think I am going to make it to church Sunday." He began to cry. I knew that formally joining the church was very important to him. I asked, "Frank, do you still want to join the church?" He shook his head and said, "Yes." Through the tears, he asked, "But how?" I said, "We'll do it right here. Give me your hand. In our congregation we ask for a simple confession of faith. Frank, do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of the living God?" His eyes closed for a moment, then he looked me directly in the eye and said in clear voice, "Yes."
Three days later we celebrated his life in the sanctuary of the congregation that he had just joined while in the intensive care unit of the hospital.
I tell you this story because I witnessed in the face of death's darkest and most despicable work the light of God. I saw in this man, this one who had wandered far, far away from the church, a bright and brilliant representation of the very spirit of God.
That is the promise of the prophet today. That is the promise of God each and every day. There is no situation so dark, so depressing where the light of God cannot be found.
Do you want to know something even more amazing? Frank was amazed at this, too. God's brilliant dawn, God's healing and restoration, are available for all people. No matter where you have been, no matter what you have or have not been doing, there is nothing that can separate you from the love of God. There are no barriers. Everyone is invited.
We do not have to look very hard to see what this new community of faith would look like. Fred Craddock suggests we open our Bibles. Read about Matthew's church: the pews in his church are filled with the good, the bad, and the ugly. What about Luke? His church looks like a hospital. He lists the poor, lame, halt, and blind. Paul preaches to Jews and Greeks, slaves and free, male and female, wise and foolish. In Luke's story of the Acts of the Apostles, we witness the baptism of Jews, Samaritans, Roman soldiers, a business woman, an African eunuch, slaves, gypsies, politicians, and a long list of nameless folks from Jerusalem to Corinth, from Jericho to Rome.1
Maybe that is too easy. Let's make it more personal. Think of the person you could never imagine sitting next to in church. According to the old prophet, he's invited. Think about the person you never, ever want to see again, let alone sit next to in a pew. She's invited, too.
This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. But that is the easy work. The real work of the love of God begins when you and everybody else (and everybody means everybody) join together to let our lights so shine that all of the world will move through the darkness to stand together in the brilliant light of God's amazing love.
Frank would be amazed.
____________
1. Fred B. Craddock and Ernest W, Saunders, Proclamation 2: Epiphany (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), pp. 10-11.
I wonder, when I read those lines from Isaiah 60, if the people didn't get up and leave the first time they heard them read. Why would they bother to stay? The words are a promise that God is going to be manifest, that is, seen, in the very context of their lives in that day.
Can't you hear the people wondering out loud, "What? Is he crazy? Does he really expect us to believe that God is going to be made real in the midst of this mess?" Isn't it funny how sometimes the people who are the most surprised by God's presence are the ones who are the most faithful in the practice of their beliefs?
There's a story from the Old West about a saloon that was built right next to a church. The congregation was very upset. They prayed during the planning and building of the tavern that God would intervene and do something. The day before the grand opening of this new saloon a lightning bolt struck it, started a fire, and burned it to the ground. The church people rejoiced. The saloon owner sued! He decided that this act of God was what they were praying for, so therefore they owed him damages. The congregation's leaders vehemently denied the claim. After both arguments had been presented in court the judge said, "Well, I don't know how I'm going to rule on this one, but this appears to be the situation: the owner of the saloon believes in the power of prayer, and these church people don't."
We laugh, but there is truth in that story. For it seems that the people who sometimes have the hardest time believing in the presence of God are the very people who proclaim to the world that God desires to be made known in their lives.
I knew a woman in Northern California who had asked her church to pray for her. She had very painful arthritis in her hands. She wanted it to get better. She had been forced to retire early because the pain was so debilitating. One day, several months after taking retirement, she woke up with no pain. A week went by, and yet, no pain. She went to see her doctor. He could find little evidence of her former condition. She wondered if she had been healed. She wondered if her prayers had been answered. The only explanation she could come up with was the unbelievable one: she had been healed. The next Sunday she arrived for worship excited about her healing. She wanted to tell everyone. She told the first person she saw, "My arthritis is gone! I've been healed." The response from this person was less than enthusiastic: "Oh. Really? It sounds to me like your medication finally began to pay off." She told another person. He responded by saying, "It'll return. Just wait. It always does." She told a few more persons, but most of them just smiled and said, "Oh, really? That's nice." By the end of the worship service she was completely deflated. She went home depressed and saddened. The lesson here is that we need to be careful about sharing our spiritual highs and miracles with our church friends and neighbors. Someone's faith and common sense will be challenged and they won't like it!
However, the prophet speaking in today's text doesn't care about the nay-sayers and the common-sense faith practitioners. He speaks a bold word in the midst of a depressing situation. He proclaims to the people who are overwhelmed by the task of rebuilding a nation that they will be the very ones through whom the light of God will shine. The nations of the world (that means everybody), will see God through them. The dawn of God's new day is about to break out upon the darkness of their discouragement.
"Look around," the prophet says, "because you are about to be overwhelmed by the amazing presence of God. Not only will all of your relatives be returning, but the wealth of all the nations will find its way to Israel, too." The prophet is exaggerating, but good preachers know when to do that. Sometimes, in order to make a point, the preacher needs to get a little hyperbolic in order to get people's attention. The prophet wants them to know that here and now, through these very people, God is beginning the work of reconciling the world.
My friend Frank died a few years ago from cancer. He was only fifty. I met him just a few months before he passed away. He came into my office and said, "I have been out of the church since I was eighteen, but I want to come back. I won't pretend like this was something I had thought about before I was diagnosed with cancer. But when the cancer came on I didn't know where else to turn. I also need to tell you that I am mad as hell at God for giving me this cancer. If that offends you, then I'll leave right now."
He and I had some amazing conversations over the next few weeks. He talked less and less about his anger and more and more about the idea of a merciful God.
Frank wanted to know about grace. He could not understand how God could be so forgiving. "It doesn't make any sense," he would say. After a few more conversations he called me and told me that he was ready to join the church. "I worry about any church that will accept me," he laughed. "But I am as ready now to make this decision as I ever will be."
The next day he was in the ICU. His body was failing fast. I went to see him. After I got there he said, "I don't think I am going to make it to church Sunday." He began to cry. I knew that formally joining the church was very important to him. I asked, "Frank, do you still want to join the church?" He shook his head and said, "Yes." Through the tears, he asked, "But how?" I said, "We'll do it right here. Give me your hand. In our congregation we ask for a simple confession of faith. Frank, do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of the living God?" His eyes closed for a moment, then he looked me directly in the eye and said in clear voice, "Yes."
Three days later we celebrated his life in the sanctuary of the congregation that he had just joined while in the intensive care unit of the hospital.
I tell you this story because I witnessed in the face of death's darkest and most despicable work the light of God. I saw in this man, this one who had wandered far, far away from the church, a bright and brilliant representation of the very spirit of God.
That is the promise of the prophet today. That is the promise of God each and every day. There is no situation so dark, so depressing where the light of God cannot be found.
Do you want to know something even more amazing? Frank was amazed at this, too. God's brilliant dawn, God's healing and restoration, are available for all people. No matter where you have been, no matter what you have or have not been doing, there is nothing that can separate you from the love of God. There are no barriers. Everyone is invited.
We do not have to look very hard to see what this new community of faith would look like. Fred Craddock suggests we open our Bibles. Read about Matthew's church: the pews in his church are filled with the good, the bad, and the ugly. What about Luke? His church looks like a hospital. He lists the poor, lame, halt, and blind. Paul preaches to Jews and Greeks, slaves and free, male and female, wise and foolish. In Luke's story of the Acts of the Apostles, we witness the baptism of Jews, Samaritans, Roman soldiers, a business woman, an African eunuch, slaves, gypsies, politicians, and a long list of nameless folks from Jerusalem to Corinth, from Jericho to Rome.1
Maybe that is too easy. Let's make it more personal. Think of the person you could never imagine sitting next to in church. According to the old prophet, he's invited. Think about the person you never, ever want to see again, let alone sit next to in a pew. She's invited, too.
This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. But that is the easy work. The real work of the love of God begins when you and everybody else (and everybody means everybody) join together to let our lights so shine that all of the world will move through the darkness to stand together in the brilliant light of God's amazing love.
Frank would be amazed.
____________
1. Fred B. Craddock and Ernest W, Saunders, Proclamation 2: Epiphany (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), pp. 10-11.
