December 24, 2013
Isaiah 9:2-7
“Clicking on the Light”
Rev. Dr. David A. Davis
Just a few nights ago I came upon a most unfortunate discovery as I was scrolling through the channel guide on our television screen. The title of the television show was “The Great Christmas Light Fight.” The title itself is troubling in so many ways. So of course, I did what you would do, I clicked on it. It is a reality show competition that awards a cash prize for the “greatest” residential Christmas light display. I tuned with just minutes to go in the hour so I was able to see the summary of the four families from four different states competing on that episode. With some relief, I note that there was no fighting going on in “The Great Christmas Light Fight.” But it was clear that “great” was being defined by numbers of bulbs, breadth of display, diversity of colors, degree of flash, and a whole lot of “wow”. I don’t think that’s what Isaiah had in mind when the prophet proclaimed, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”
When it comes to light and the Christmas texts of scripture, there’s not as much “brightness” as one would think. In Luke, the shepherds were terrified when the glory of the Lord shone all around them. But when the angel announced the sign; the sign was a child wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Not some kind of stunning, piercing light emanating from the manger or some glow from the child. When Matthew describes the Wise Men following the star, there is no mention of its brightness; only that they had been watching it since it appeared in the east. When the star stopped over the place where the child was, the bible says it was the same star but there is no mention of wattage. You remember in the poetry of the first chapter of John, the light of all people was the life that was in him. Yes the light shines in the darkness , and the darkness did not overcome it. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. That light in John; it endures, it permeates, it shines in the darkness but no description of how bright.
The people who walk in darkness have seen a great light. When the bible describes Mary as “being great with child”; don’t you think it was the King’s English way to reference a sense of timing in pregnancy rather than a crass reference to belly size? The Hebrew adjective for great found in the text from Isaiah, it could be great in magnitude, great in extent, great in number, great in intensity, great in volume, great in age, great in importance. The great light could be bright; but it could also be great as in singularly important, or great as in just the right timing, great as in power, great as in ability to break through the dark; even with just a speck or a flicker. Those who lived in a land of deep darkness, a darkness the psalmist describes as “the valley of the shadow of death”. Amid that kind of darkness, the fact that the light shined at all would make it great.
If testifying to the Great Christmas Light was as easy as driving to the most notoriously decorated house in the neighborhood, you and I wouldn’t be called to be disciples, we would be called to be docents pointing to a whole lot of “wow”. The light of Christ is great because the Child Jesus embodies the infinite love of God and the matchless grace of God and the wondrous mystery of God’s salvation; and the unending vision of God’s kingdom; all of it there in human flesh. That’s great! The light of Christ is great because in him forgiveness flows like a river, new life has an indescribable power, hope rises as fresh as the morning dew, and all of it, here in the child born to us, given to us. That’s so great! The light of Christ is great because of his darkness piercing promise that justice and righteousness will always bubble up despite the world’s attempt to put a cork in it. His earth shaking teaching that the hungry shall be fed, and the naked clothed, and the oppressed set free; a teaching that never goes away even when the darkness screams of another way. His shocking life full of welcoming sinners and embracing outcasts and touching the unclean and speaking to the silenced as those in power shout and scoff and turn their heads go count their money and their blessings. His everlasting gift of a peace, not as the world gives, but a peace that will last, a peace within and a peace beyond, a peace that hangs in the air by a thread of promise smacking the face of all the wisdom that world leaders can muster. And all of it, it all starts, his promise, his teaching, his life, it’s all here in a child born. That’s not just bright, its great!
This fall I flew in a small two seater airplane for the first time. A long time friend in Hershey, Pennsylvania has a pilot’s license and when I was there for the weekend speaking and preaching at his church, on Saturday night he flew me from Hershey up to Bethlehem so I could watch my son Ben play soccer at Lehigh. The night flight back after the game was my favorite part. He gave me an IPAD with GPS so I could follow along and he would point out various airports on the ground. He would point out a particular beacon but I found I had to work at it to see. He told me what color to look for and that the light would be blinking. I eventually found it but I have to tell you, I thought it would be brighter. We were to land at a very small airport that has no tower, no traffic control. Pilots, as they approach, turn their radios to the assigned frequency for the airport and click on their microphone to turn on the beacon and the runway lights. Once they come on, you’re supposed to click every so often so the lights don’t go out while you are landing. The only time in my maiden two seat flight that I was a bit anxious was as my pilot/friend kept clicking and looking, clicking and looking. He stopped short of saying, “I know it’s down there somewhere” but I know that’s what he was thinking. Sure enough the lights came on, but nowhere as bright as I would have expected. And don’t you know as we were landing maybe a couple hundred feet from the ground, all those lights went out. He had been clicking, they went out anyway. By then, both he and I, we knew where the runway was, he knew it by heart. I could still see it in the shadows.
Clicking on the light. The disciples of Jesus working to spread the very light of Christ with the faithfulness of their lives. The follows of the Christ Child pointing to the greatness of the light in the times when the darkness is deeper. The children of light, God’s light, sometimes making a way through the valley of the shadow of death, making the way because we know it by heart. Servants of the Savior, committed to, believing in, working toward a life here on earth that is more and more like what God wants it to be, fanning the flames of a kingdom light that the darkness can never put out. My guess is that, just as with every Christmas Eve, there are those gathered tonight, here amid all the trappings, for whatever reason, who just thought it would be brighter. So we together, in prayer and in the Holy Spirit, we keep clicking. We come to worship, to tell, to sing. For the people who walk in darkness, we have seen a great light.
My absolute favorite account of a Christmas Pageant is told by William Muehl in the forward to his collection of sermons entitled “All the Damned Angels”. It’s favorite not just because it is a funny and very real description but because of the spot on theological commentary the author provides. At one point he describes twenty angels taking the stage in “diaphanous white gowns sporting immense gauze wings.” They are striking in both their costumes and the exact symmetry they display around the manger. When the shepherds come to join the angels on stage, “an unfortunate discovery came to light”, Muehl writes.
“In order to be sure that the angels and the shepherds would strike a pleasantly balanced array on stage, the drama coach had made a series of chalkmarks on the floor. A circle for each angel and a cross for each shepherd….Unwisely, this marking had been done when the pupils were wearing their ordinary clothes….When the angels came on in their flowing robes, each of them covered not only her own circle but the adjacent cross as well.
“The shepherds, driven by God knows what demonic impulse to indiscreet obedience, began looking for their places. Angels were treated as they have never been treated before. And at last one little boy, who had suffered about all such nonsense that he could handle, (proclaimed for all to hear)…’these damned angels are fouling up this whole show. They’ve hidden all the crosses!’”
But then the author concludes, “We are, indeed, damned angels, possessors of gifts and insights which we turn to works of destruction, victims of burdens and infirmities which become occasions for glory. The rich pageant of life is often fouled up by our rigid moralism and the cross is hidden beneath the flimsy fabric of our simple piety. Our flesh drives and afflicts us from birth to death and we still have the gall to afiirm that it once sheltered the Eternal. There are those wise and good enough to walk with God and see visions of heaven. I have had to be content with damned angels and the facts of life.
Or maybe, we just keep clicking on the light.
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