Be the Light

A Sermon for the Third Sunday of Easter

Happy Easter! It is, in fact, still Easter. Easter is a season of fifty days, not just a single day. So when you go to the grocery store and all that Easter candy is in the bin at 50% – 75% - or 90% off, buy it. It’s a good deal and there are still weeks and weeks to keep celebrating the joyful good news of Christ’s resurrection.


As it is still the Easter season, we have our wonderful Easter vestments on, we are still singing the great Easter hymns, and are still adding in all those extra alleluias. And yet in the Gospel readings we have been hearing these past few weeks, we have not heard the same celebratory tone. From that very first Easter season, the disciples did not yet understand what Good News is. It is only with hindsight that we can so confidently enter into this season with that joy. But for the disciples, we hear weeping and confusion, fear and ignorance in these stories.


John is a highly metaphorical Gospel. Whoever wrote this Gospel liked to use images. One of the images he really liked to use is lightness and darkness. From the very beginning we hear him talk about that. In the beginning was the Word, the Word was with God, and the Word was God. All things came into being through Him. Not one thing came into being that was not through Him. What came into being through Him was life, and that life was the light of the world to all people. And the darkness could not overcome it. It goes on to say that John the Baptist was a witness to the light; he was not the light, but was a witness to the light, that light that lights the world. Light, light, light. If you read the first chapter, the imagery keeps going on and on. And the light and the dark theme continues throughout the Gospel. It is not just in the words, lightness and darkness, but it is in the setting and the timing of things. So when Nicodemus is confused, he comes to Jesus in the night, a time of darkness. Whenever you hear those specifics of time, you have to think about what the sun is doing at that moment. Is it giving light or is it dark?


All of these Easter readings have taken place in the dark. We heard that Mary Magdalene went down to the tomb on that Easter morning while it was still dark. And there in the darkness of that moment she wept. Then last week we heard about the evening of the first Easter, at dark, at night. It doesn’t say it was dark, but you know what evening is all about—there is no light. And we heard the story about events a week later, again in the evening. The disciples are locked away in their fear, the darkness of their fear. Mary Magdalene is in the darkness of her sorrow, and the other disciples are in the darkness of their fear.


Today’s reading is the last of the resurrection appearances in John’s Gospel. It says that the disciples went fishing all night long, in darkness. So we have the darkness of sorrow, the darkness of fear, and now we have the darkness of ignorance. These disciples, who have encountered the risen Lord, still don’t get what this is all about. It is that common theme we hear throughout the Gospel readings of the disciples not understanding what Jesus is talking about. So even though they have met the risen Lord twice, and have heard from Mary Magdalene about Jesus coming back, they still act as if nothing has changed in their lives, as if this life transforming event—someone rising from the dead and coming to them—means nothing. They return to Galilee, and they return to their work as if nothing has changed.


Then Jesus shows up. What is interesting is that the other stories do not talk about the light. When Mary Magdalene is meeting Jesus in the garden while it is still dark, it does not say that Jesus appeared and that the day had broken or the sun had risen. We can assume that she is still in that darkness. But here it says just after daybreak. In this final story we begin to see that things are changing. Just after daybreak the light is beginning to enter in. Peter hears, finally, and this seems to change his life.  He needs to do something in response to this Good News. He is sent to go and feed and tend and care for God’s children in this world. He is sent to be Christ’s body in this world, to be that light that John testified to in the very first chapter, the light that Jesus said he was. That light is now being passed along to Peter and the other disciples to take out into the world.


At the 9:30 service today we are going to baptize the newest member of the Body of Christ. After I have poured the water on, the Deacon will take a candle and will light it from the Pascal candle. The Pascal candle is the representation and symbol of the light of Christ in the midst of us. So the Deacon will take that candle, light it from the Pascal candle and hand it to the baptismal candidate and say, “Take this out into the world to the glory of God.” It is now your job, as a baptized member of the Body of Christ, to take this light of Christ and help this world that lives in such darkness to experience the day breaking, to experience the sun rising, that light of love Jesus asks Peter about: Do you love me? Then go share that love through care of others. Do you love me? Then go tend others. Do you love me? Then go feed others. Go express that love in concrete ways, go bring that light to this world to the glory of God.


That is the Good News that we are celebrating, that Good News that we have been invited into. Carry that light with Peter and the other disciples, and experience and bring forth the break of day.



Easter Day: Darkness and Light

Easter Day:  Darkness and Light

Darkness and light are two important themes throughout John’s Gospel. From the very first chapter until the last, John talks a lot about darkness and light. In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. All things came into being through him, and what came into being from him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it. The Gospel goes on to tell us that John the Baptist was sent as a witness to the light.

The Root of our Illness -- Our Inability to Hear One Another

4 Lent; March 26, 2017

What a fitting Gospel today—a story of healing and illness and miscomprehension and stubbornness. It parallels well where we are, and what we have witnessed this week in health care debate—a situation in this country in which the root of our illness is really exposed. It is one that is not rooted so much in whether or not we want to be healed, but our inability to consider any other option; our inability to hear one another, and to find in that a common ground in which we can move toward wholeness. And it’s a fitting story today on this Fourth Sunday of Lent, a Sunday that is also called Laetare Sunday, which comes from that antiphon sung in the Roman church, Rejoice, Jerusalem. We’ve made it half way through Lent, it’s time to take a breath and now focus on the rest of our journey.

As I was thinking about that, I realized that Lent, thematically and symbolically, is a week. If every Sunday in Lent is a weekday, that means we’re coming into that fourth day, the Thursday of the week, if you will. You know how weird I am. When I was a kid, I loved Thursdays. It wasn’t so much because it was heading to the week-end proper, but because I knew that Sunday was coming. Weird churchy kid! I know that you were one, too. But I was excited. It was also the night that The Waltons came on in my childhood, so it was about family and watching television and that story together. And then Friday was usually a test day, and in grade school it couldn’t have been more of a crucifixion than I would ever know. By Saturday, we were heading to Sunday.

One of the ways to understand John’s Gospel is that it is written in a week fashion also. It follows the days of creation. The story today, according to that view, is the fourth day of creation. If you think of that day in the creation story, it is the day that God dispels light throughout creation. So when we hear these words of Jesus, “I am the Light of the World”, and we hear these metaphors of seeing and blindness, we’re pulled into that day.

The setting for the story today has been going on in John’s Gospel for a couple of chapters. It is the Feast of the Tabernacles, or what we would call booths. It was a harvest festival in Judaism that celebrated all of those images of light, and of water. It was when they moved toward the temple, erecting booths or tents, in which they were brought back in their memory to days of wandering in the Exodus, until they came into the promised land to settle. And from Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, and now this story in Chapter Nine, we are in the same setting. So Jesus, leaving the temple for a time, but still celebrating the Feast, encounters this man born blind. And the disciples ask the question, which is still dear to our hearts today, “Who is it that sinned, the man or his parents?” It followed the Biblical understanding that God cannot be credited with the evil that falls on humankind; that was our own doing. That first sin, the fall of Adam, is our responsibility, and it somehow explains why the world is still in that situation. So they ask, was it this man, maybe this child in the womb had already committed a sin, or was it his parents? Jesus gives us his perspective, and it was quite disturbing to them, and anyone he is going to encounter. Jesus says, neither. This man was born blind so that God’s glory might be revealed in him. Not that God caused him to be blind so God could reveal himself, but God comes to those who the world rejects, and God is revealed in those that we find. We still understand this today. As soon as I get sick, I immediately think, what did I do to bring this on myself? Or when I see someone who is sick and it brings me discomfort, I can’t help but find that “original sin” that says it must be something in their life that they did wrong; oh! they smoked for years; oh! they didn’t eat right; oh! they didn’t exercise. That need that we have to understand the way things are from the way that we experience them or think they ought to be. And Jesus says, no. Consider it a very different way. And so Jesus comes to this man, he spits in the mud and makes clay, and sends the man off to the pool Shiloam, which means sent. The Shiloam pool reflects back to the tabernacles, of collected rainwater, the rainwater that brought around the first fruits and the harvest. Water and light working together makes creation come into fullness, and this man comes back and he can see. This creates a firestorm, especially for the religious authorities who cannot understand this. They begin to question him and interrogate him. Who is the one who did this? And the man says, it is the man Jesus; he did this. And the Pharisees ask him, where is he? And he says, I don’t know.

This whole episode goes on with Jesus in absentsia. He’s on trial, as it were, and he cannot defend himself against the accusations. Over and over the Pharisees attempt to question the man, to bring his parents in, to bring in every kind of witness to validate their point of view and understanding. Something unique happens to this man: he, in essence, is put on trial. But the man says, I am he, the one that Jesus healed. And you hear in that, and you see in the Greek text that same words that Jesus uses, I am the light of the world. This man is all of Adam’s children, all of us. And now, because he has received and understood Jesus, he shares in that unity of Christ, and that reality of God that is about this new creation. That’s not good enough for the Pharisees, so they get rid of him and go to the parents. Then the most horrendous thing happens: the parents, in their fear and anxiety, disown their son. Listen to their words: “We know that this is our son, and we know that he was born blind, but we do not know how he sees. Nor do we know who opened his eyes; we don’t understand it, we don’t know this Jesus. So ask our son—he’s of age”. Then there is this interesting line in John that would be hard to understand if this was really Jesus’s time, because the Jews have been expelling the new Christians out of the synagogue. This didn’t happen until 85 A.D., years after Jesus’s death. But right before the writing of John’s Gospel, you hear the community of John understanding the hostility that’s beginning to come to them from a community of like believers, they thought. And we hear the echo of our community, of the dissension that says this is the way we believe, and those who say this is the way that we know. So the parents say, he’s out there by himself. This man has been abandoned by the Pharisees, his tradition, and now abandoned by his parents. Now he is all alone, and he meets Jesus again. Jesus says to him, “You know how you see. Have you heard of the Son of Man?” And the man responds, “Sir”. Then Jesus moves on, and the man responds, “Lord”. This same word is used, it’s our word Kyrie. Kyrie=sir; Kyrie=Lord. Do you hear the progression that is made in that? The man comes to complete belief and he worships Jesus.

Then, the people who know, those in charge of Mosaic law, interpret that wrongly again, and think that Jesus is talking about them. “We’re not blind. We can see”, and they’re still on this level of sight. Is that the level we want to be on, or do we want to be on the level of this man and of this Lord and of God who says it is possible to stand and participate in a truth and reality that is not the way things appear to be. What is never questioned by the Pharisees in this story, and this is very telling, is the fact of the healing. They don’t doubt that the man is healed. What they doubt, and what they don’t understand is the identity of Jesus, the sent one, just like the water. Because of that, they cannot come to the faith that the man has come to. In the questioning, they ask the man, and he understands them with absolute irony and positive perspective. He asks them, “Do you want to become one of his followers, too?” They become indignant and enraged. And at the end they make a statement that proclaims that they see, but Jesus says, you’re still blind; your sin remains; your sin, your dislocation from God, your inability to offer that relationship to others.

This fourth day in John’s Gospel, this Fourth Sunday in Lent, can we refocus our eyes and begin to move toward that Sabbath, that Easter that we hope will come? A new way of seeing that questions everything we knew before, that allows us to say, Lord, I believe.