Light in the Dark

Sermon from Grace and St Stephen's 12/25/2017 John 1:1-14 Christmas

When I was in college I remember complaining to a friend that every class had to start with some sort of historical survey. I was a psychology major and I loved learning about human behaviors, relationships and how the mind works, but before we ever got into that we always had to read about the history of that particular branch of psychology. The same with all my electives. I had to read chapters about the history of theater, astronomy, and every major world religion … I couldn't believe it when I arrived for my first day of my summer step aerobics class and was directed to a desk and a book where we had to learn about the development of aerobics before we began. As I would read about names, dates and locations, wars, brutal regimes and plagues (those last three not as much in step aerobics) my eyelids would suddenly gain too much weight to hold up and my mind would drift. Naturally seminary brought with it a whole lot of history. I was fortunate to have some great professors not just for the two semesters of straight up church history but also all the theological and Biblical history in my other classes who taught it in really interesting and relevant ways.

But when I sat down to dinner after the McJimsey lecture with our own Dr. Carol Neel and asked her the topics of her published works I have to confess that I prepared myself for more polite nodding than genuine fascination. But as she started to explain a book she wrote some years ago I was totally intrigued. Carol wrote an introduction and a translation for a ninth century book that a mother wrote to her son. This medieval book challenges not just the prior held understanding of women's literacy, education and influence of that time but also it challenges the ways in which we tend to look at relationships of the past. When we read of wars, famines, brutal rulers, names and dates we see only a society so very different from ours, circumstances unimaginable for our comfortable selves to live in and we make assumptions about how they related to one another, perhaps assuming that with so much death and despair and child mortality, there was a certain kind of emotional distance even within families. So I was very curious about this woman, Dhuoda's, love letter and parental guidance for her son so long ago.

The book was written during a particularly bloody era. Dhuoda's husband worked closely with Louis the Pious until Louis's sons rebelled which resulted in terrible wars and also her husband making a deal to prove his loyalty to Charles the Bald and offering his young son as part of that. To this son, who eventually is killed avenging his father's death, she writes this book of love, wisdom and instruction. In the introduction to her book Carol offers background on Dhuoda and life in the ninth century, pointing out that during such bloodshed and fighting there was also such devotion to religious life- endowing churches, establishing abbeys, studying the scriptures. And all of this is what I found myself thinking about as I read these words from John about the Word that was there even in the chaos, shining in the darkness, never overcome by darkness. This Word here in humanity, among us. A mother's letter of love, abbeys, churches, religious devotion present in such dark times of despair and enduring longer than any of the emperors or borders or weeping.

Light in the darkness. At the beginning, in medieval times, today … again and again, never letting the darkness win the day. Even in the beginning, before all of us, before time and space- was the Word … with God. A relationship. Love. A Word is something that is revealed. In the beginning the Word was with God. A revelation always intended even before creation.

Even though we no longer live in medieval times and can look back at those stories of war and pain with shock and distance, we still have darkness in our world. Sometimes the pain of the world feels so deep, so pervasive and so inescapable. Some days it feels like the darkness is overcoming the light.

And it's not just out there. The darkness of the world is not just in the newspaper headlines, twitter feeds and political rants. It's in here. It's in us. As scary and painful as outside forces like war, disease and injustice may be to confront I believe that the darkness within can be the scariest to face.

The inner demons we carry with us, the self doubt that manifests as insecurity and pushing others away, the prejudice we try to cover with words but comes out in actions, the fears that eat away at us at night and tell us to protect, defend, close off. And the sadness that threatens our joy, that casts a shadow on our worldview and tries to convince us that it will never get better. The darkness that starts to choke out the light in our souls.

The Gospel of John dives right into these dark places. It does not begin with a beautiful image of a baby born in a manger, it does not preface the narrative with historical background or important names and dates. It goes right to the point, right to the heart. It starts at the beginning, in the darkness.

This is the accepted reality of life. There is darkness. And this story of Jesus is here to confront that. God's revelation, God's Word, God's redemption, incarnate love has been there since the beginning, it was always part of the plan, part of the human condition. We were born through it. “All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.” We are born through the Word. We exist in the revelation of God. The light in the darkness has been shining since before we can fathom and nothing- no dictator, no war, no famine, no sadness, no pain has extinguished it.

This light is with us. It is incarnate, in flesh. And through this we are called children of God. We live in the light and the light lives in us. This is our reality. This is our Christmas story. The Christmas story in John is not the stuff of Christmas pageants and bed time stories. Instead of a nativity scene there is a simple light in the dark. Instead of a manger there is a mirror. Held up in front of us. We have come into being through the Word. We are benefactors of God's revelation. The Word is here, with us, in us, pushing against the darkness.

Christmas is an emotional time. The music, the colorful lights, the warm fireplace are all meant to elicit emotion. And sometimes that can be sadness. Sometimes I get a little sad around the holidays. The marking of the passage of time, the nostalgia, the sense of longing can be sad. I was feeling this last year at Christmas Eve. It was my first Christmas ever not spent in Ohio. When I was growing up Christmas Eve was always spent at my aunt's house. Grandpa, aunts, uncles, cousins, mom, dad, sisters, brother all together with beautifully wrapped presents, delicious food, sounds of laughter and sleepy hugs good bye. I was thinking of this as I drove my two little boys home after the 4:30pm service last year. My husband wouldn't be home until very late, after the 11pm service and we don't have any family here so it was just us. I decided to take the boys to McDonald's, a rare treat in our house. They were thrilled. We walked in with our church clothes on and they hurried over to the high stools that spin and giggled in excitement. I brought them their food and they were blown away to find a toy with their food! It was a pig that repeatedly said things like “Oh yeah, piggy power!” I sat on the stool and continually reminded them to eat the food I felt guilty for feeding them.

I looked around and I have to tell you that McDonald's on Christmas Eve night is kind of a sad place. There was a security guard at the door, tired employees and just a few people eating alone. The boys didn't care, they were having the time of their lives- a new toy mixed with salty food and the magic of Christmas morning almost here. Then … I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to find a young couple standing behind me. They looked familiar as I think I had seen them on the streets downtown. They had some bags of belongings around them and looked homeless. Honest confession … I looked over to make sure my purse was still by me and glanced at the security guard as I was sure they were going to ask me for money. They reached into one of their bags and handed me something without a word. It was two toys, one for each of my boys. The boys' eyes lit up and they jumped up and down. I reminded them to say thank you.

In my heart I felt a light burning down some of my darkness- my prejudice, my self-preservation, my self-centeredness in thinking that Christmas could only be truly experienced in the comfortable and familiar places of my childhood. I was a recipient of kindness and generosity in a dark and lonely McDonald's. The light in the darkness. And I realized something else, just as they were the Word incarnate for me there in that place, we were for them too. Perhaps the giggles and excitement of children is something that brought them joy. Perhaps the smiles and thank yous is what they were hoping for when they put those toys into their bag. The Word is in us from our birth. We are children of God.

When the story of my life is written it might say the year I was born, the year I died, some significant historical occurrences during my life span, the names of my parents and children, the location of my birth and death. Some basic facts, recorded somewhere for no one to read and if they do then I am sure it will add weight to their eyelids and make their minds wander. But beyond that, beyond the basic facts lies a truth that we who are gathered for worship on Christmas day all know. A truth that makes all of our lives so much more interesting and bright and hopeful and meaningful. I am born through the Word, I am part of God's revelation through Jesus Christ. We all are children of God. God chose to pour God's self into flesh and dwell among us. And God has been here with us, dwelling in the hearts of mothers caring for their children in the midst of medieval war and dwelling in the hearts of those seeking a break from the street at a McDonald's on Christmas Eve. This was the plan, all the way from the beginning and through the end. This is the light the darkness has never and will never overcome. This is Emmanuel. God with us.