Nassau Presbyterian Church

December 11, 2011 - Advent III
John 8:12, Matthew 5:14-16, Rev 22:5
“The Promise for the World”
Rev. Dr. David A. Davis

I am the light of the world. You are the light of the world. The Lord will be their light.

“I am the light of the world”, Jesus said in the Gospel of John, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” And from somewhere the voice of the prophet Isaiah can be heard. “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” The light. The light of Christ coming into the world. And the whole congregation waits in silence with patience and expectation as the candles are lit (here on the wreath). Waiting, hoping, leaning, helping, nudging. A little higher, yes, there, that’s it. Aah, whew, now it’s lit. A collective sigh is shared by lighters and readers and leaders and worshippers, at least for now, right then, all is right with the world; because the candle is lit. The light is here, again. And we can sing, “Christ be our light.”

Part of the Christmas tradition in our house is the Christmas Angel that sits atop our Christmas tree. The Angel was made by a woman in the First Presbyterian Church of Blackwood and given to Cathy and me for our first Christmas in our first home. Long before our children were born that Angel perched on the tree. The Angel is a bit worn by now; faded, out of shape, hard to place, and she leans a lot. She could easily be mistaken for the odd knitted thing that your grandmother used to cover the toaster on the kitchen counter. One Christmas in a misguided attempt to be innovative, we went for one of those stars with the plastic spindles and the one light from the string of lights shoved inside. What a mistake that was. The Angel on the tree, that angel is a symbol for Christmas in our house that goes beyond words. I could tell you about the year my son Ben put it up there instead of me. Or the year when Hannah was a freshman in college. We put the tree up before she came home. But not the angel. The angel had to wait. For some symbols there is a meaning and comfort that goes beyond what you can’t really describe.

Like the Light at Advent. And the candles on the wreath at Advent. And the words of the prophet at Advent; “Arise and shine for your light has come.” And the luminaries on Christmas Eve. And the sharing of the light while singing “Silent Night”. And the Words from John’s Gospel, “What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it…The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.” “I am the light of the world” Jesus said. The light at Advent is like a comfort food when it comes to the symbols that tell of your life in God, in Christ. The Advent light.

I am the light of the world. You are the light of the world. The Lord will be their light.

After all the “blesseds”, and right on the heels of “you are the salt of the earth”, and just prior to telling how he had come not to abolish but to fulfill the law and the prophets, and before the teaching on reconciliation, and sin, and forgiveness, and loving your enemy, and praying in secret, and serving either God or mammon, and not worrying about tomorrow, and the log in your own eye, and asking, seeking, knocking, opening…right there in the midst of all that is the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus said, “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

Not “let my light shine through you”, not “you should bear witness my light”, not “take my light”, not “ each of you have a little of me shining in you”, but “you are the light of the world” Jesus said. When your light shines, it is good works that others see. It is good works that moves others to give glory to God in heaven. Your good works. Not just “telling it on the mountain”, not just your piety all aglow, not just the radiance of your own religiosity, certainly not the spotlighted arrogance of demanding, legislating that others have to be just like you. No, your good works. One doesn’t have to go to the Book of James on good works here. Jesus offers a full take in the Sermon on the Mount and its clearly not about airing your spiritual disciplines. Rather reconciling with your sister or brother, handing over your cloak, striving first for the righteousness of God, not judging others, doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. A city on hill can’t be hid. A lamp doesn’t go under a bushel, but on a stand to give light to all. When your light shines for all to see in the house, when the city on the hill lights up, what is to be seen is your good works.

Hide it under a bushel? No, I’m going let it shine! Maybe that verse of the song ought to be taught with a bit of an attitude. This little light of mine, I’m going let it shine. Everybody knows it, right? This little light of mine…..all around the neighborhood…..let is shines till Jesus comes….and, hide it under a bushel? No! On a few occasions over the last years, we have sung that song at memorial services. In that context, the no longer just a children’s song comes off as a rather defiant affirmation of joy and life even in the midst of death. So too, with an Advent rendition; and Advent rendition of the tune formerly known as a children’s song. There’s nothing little about it, letting your light shine. When it comes to singing it in Advent, there ought to be a bit of bold defiance as well. As the world we live in cries out all the more for the kingdom to come, for the light to shine. The light of the World.

“You are the light of the world”. It’s not an exhortation from Jesus about some kind of doctrine of Christian exceptionalism. It’s a description of Christian servanthood. Long before “the city on the hill” found its way into the rhetorical, political history of America, Jesus, with his own rhetorical flare, was using it to call his followers to a life of discipleship. More than being warmed by the notion of the light of Christ within you, it is being motivated to see the face of Christ in the other. More than receiving the light of salvation in your heart, it is a call to bear that light of salvation into the world as you work for the kingdom. Notice the words of the hymn,

“Christ be our Light”, the hymn that we are about to sing. Phrases like “Make us your own. Make us your living voice. Make us your bread. Make us your building. Let us be servants.” More than Christ be our light. The Advent prayer is to make us the light, O Christ! We are the Advent light!

I am the light of the world. You are the light of the world. The Lord will be their light.

In the Apocalypse to John, the Book of Revelation, when John describes what he sees and hears about the new city of Jerusalem coming down out of heaven, he tells of God dwelling with God’s people, God himself being with them, God wiping away every tear from their eyes, and God being their light. “The city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light and its lamp is the lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. It’s gates will never be shut by day—and there will no night there.…..There will be no more night; they need no light or lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.”
God’s glory. God’s light. God’s presence. God abundantly abounds. As New Testament Scholar Brian Blount describes it in his commentary on Revelation, God’s glory shroud’s the city like a fog. God is completely on the loose among God’s people. The nice promise that “the Lord will be their light” doesn’t really begin to describe it. It’s not just a light, there’s no more sun, no more night, only God’s glory, God’s presence. It is “God with us” on steroids. “God with us” with a bunch of exclamation points behind it. God with us to the nth degree. The Lord will be their light. It is EMMANUEL (with all caps). The Lord will be their light. It is where Advent and the Apocalypse meet. God on the loose among us forever and ever and ever.

In his introduction to that commentary, Professor Blount argues that the apocalyptic literature of scripture intends to convey a truth about God and the world, a truth that words themselves can simply not convey. That truth is so powerful, so overwhelming that the writers, in this case John, appeal to symbols and codes to bear a weight of meaning that language cannot. Thus, in the Book of Revelation, one reads these complex descriptions and strange puzzle like narratives and all these weird symbols. “John seems to believe that a person must viscerally feel what cannot be linguistically conveyed” Blount writes. Of course, what must be felt, is that in a world so full of chaos, suffering, death, and empire-like power run amuck, that the peaceable kingdom of God will ultimately prevail and that God has a future where the wolf will live with the lamb, and they will not hurt or destroy on all of God’s holy mountain, and the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord. What must be felt is that God’s future is the world’s future, is our future.

It’s Advent again, and the world is still in chaos. Maybe I’m just getting old, but the world always seems to be in chaos at Advent. Here’s the point in my sermon where I would offer a litany of reality, or quote statistics, or cite some article. But you can do it as well as I can. And if it’s not the world’s chaos, there’s always enough of us here whose lives are in turmoil at Advent. And so we sing, “O come, O come, Emmanuel.” And we strike an Advent light. Because the truth of the promise is so powerful and so overwhelming that words can’t bear the weight of it. That this world, that you and I, that are future is God’s future. Lighting an Advent candle, it’s so much more than comfort food. It is a bold, defiant, persistent way of saying yes to God and spitting at the world’s darkness. The Advent light. It is an apocalyptic symbol, right up there with those numbers, and those bowls, and all that violence, and the dragon and the beast…..and the glory of the Lord is the light and its lamp is the lamb. The Advent light burns in the affirmation that the kingdom of God shall burst forth in us and our life together, and through us and our life together, to the world. The Advent light and the confidence of God’s future. The Lord will be their light.

For many, it seems that so much about Christmas is about looking back; holding on to memories, preserving that child like experience of life, remembering one Christmas or the other, trying to hold on to the way things were. But Advent, Advent is about looking forward. Living into the promise of God in your life later today, and tomorrow, and the next day. Bearing the promise of God in your life and in the world today and tomorrow. Working, serving, being the promise of God for the world here, now, and forever.

I am the light of the world. You are the light of the world. The Lord will be their light.