Shine Light on Discipleship, Part II: A Light So Lovely

3^rd Sunday after the Epiphany

January 26, 2020

Isaiah 9:1-4; Psalm 27; Matthew 4:12-23

Madeline L’Engle was a prolific children’s and young adult author during the 20^th century. She was perhaps best known for “A Wrinkle in Time,” which won the Newbery Medal for the most distinguished contribution to children’s literature in 1963 and which Disney turned into a motion picture a couple years ago. My personal favorite, however, is “A Ring of Endless Light,” which won a Newbery Honor in 1981 and is about a teenage girl whose family has come to gather around her dying grandfather. Later in life, Madeline L’Engle began writing more about the intersection between spirituality and creativity. She was a lifelong Christian and active in her local church. In one of these later books, she wrote, “We draw people to Christ not by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.” I think, deep down, we know this. You don’t ever change someone’s mind by loudly discrediting them, no matter how much you see that on TV. You don’t yell at someone that they’re wrong and then they have a change of heart. It doesn’t work that way. When you yell at someone or discredit someone, all it does is raise their defenses and brings a flood of negative feelings, like shame or revenge or anger. You’re not going to reach someone when their walls are up and their hackles are raised. Instead, you show the person a light so lovely that they want to know more about it. You act with love and kindness and compassion, with no ulterior motives, you let the light of Jesus shine through you, and then people get curious about the light. They see your inner peace and inner light and they want that, too.

            Now, our Matthew reading this morning began by quoting from our Isaiah passage. Isaiah 9 is usually reserved for Advent and Christmas. If it sounds familiar, it’s because we just read it last month. If we were to keep reading, we’d hear again, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given…” and so on. However, this time Jesus is fulfilling the prophecy of the first part of the chapter. “There will be no more gloom for those who were in distress…in the future he will honor Galilee,” which is where Jesus has just arrived after being tempted by Satan. “The people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned. From that time on Jesus began to preach, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’” Unlike the gospel of John which directly calls Jesus the light of the world, Matthew gets at it indirectly. Light has dawned in Galilee by the arrival of Jesus who announces that the kingdom of heaven is near. Then Jesus goes around the region, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of heaven and healing the sick. He’s showing the people a light so lovely that either they follow him or they get mad at him.

            There is a tendency in some Christian circles to identify the good news as Jesus’ death and resurrection, or Jesus died for your sins. But that’s not the good news Jesus is preaching here. He hasn’t died yet. He is saying to repent and change your ways, which will upset people who don’t want to change their ways. But he’s saying the kingdom of heaven is here. God is here. Light has dawned on those who were suffering and in anguish. Light has dawned on those who sat in the region and the shadow of death. Light has dawned on those who were sitting out their lives in the dark. Light has dawned… on us. We have all at some point sat in the shadow of death. We have all at some point been in pain. I daresay most, if not all of us, have at some point wanted to sit on the sidelines rather than take a risk again. That’s why light has dawned on us, too. Light has dawned on those of us who are tired. Light has dawned on those of us who burned out. Light has dawned on those of us who live in uncertainty of what the next doctor’s appointment is going to reveal. Light has dawned on those of us dreading this next election cycle because the last one was so ugly. Light has dawned on those of us with too much on our plate, too many medicines to take, too much to keep track of, those of us with not enough hours in our day. Light has dawned. And don’t we need the light! A light that is so lovely that it cannot be contained but bursts forth from under a bushel and from the city on a hill. It’s a beacon that draws you to its loveliness and says, “Come, rest. Come find enough in me. Lay down your burdens. Tell me your troubles. I’m here. You’re safe.”

            This is what we hear in the opening lines of our psalm, “The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?” When you need a good do-not-be-afraid reassurance, Psalm 27 is your go-to place with its rhetorical questions. The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? No one. The Lord is the stronghold of my life. Of what shall I be afraid? Nothing. Light has dawned on you. The Lord is your light. Therefore, you have nothing to be afraid of. The Lord is your nightlight in those dark places where you need some reassurance and bravery. No fear. No worries. Don’t worry about striving for perfection. Don’t worry about appearing foolish. Of whom shall I be afraid? The Lord is my strength and my refuge. The Lord is my light and my salvation.

            Here’s what I’ve been struggling with lately: feelings of not enough. Feeling like our church isn’t enough. That my leadership isn’t enough. That I don’t say enough or do enough. It’s been feelings of inadequacy. I’m not saying these messages are coming from you; please don’t hear me say that. I’ve been feeling bombarded lately with messages from workshops, books, and speakers about how to be a better church or how to be a better pastor, which, while we always want to be the best versions of ourselves, is making me feel pretty inadequate as I am right now. And I want you to know that our church is enough. Look at what we’re doing! Two years ago, in a meeting about our vision, our Lay Leader said something to the effect of our goal being for others to say, “Hey, look at Lisbon Church! They’ve got something going on!” To put it more eloquently, they’ve got a light so lovely, let’s go check it out. Well, they’re saying that now. My new neighbor is on the PTA board next door at Lisbon Elementary and the PTA is talking about us and our offer for childcare during school events. The community is talking about us with the spaghetti dinner where we raised almost $800 for the Hartner family.  We are viewed as a beacon in our community, complete with the prime real estate location of being right here in the center of Lisbon. We do not need to feel as though we are not enough. That message may be coming from elsewhere, but it is not coming from God and it is not coming from our community. We are rooted in Christ in order to nurture our community. Light has dawned upon us and we share the light with all those around us.

            Gregory the Great, also called St. Gregory or Pope Gregory I, wrote about the dawn. Gregory was a 6^th century Roman who was a high ranking government official before becoming a monk, then served as the Roman ambassador to Constantinople before being elected Pope. He was highly educated, a prolific author, improved the welfare of the people of Rome, and brought some stability, unity, and newness to the Church, in particular in the area of worship. If you’ve heard of Gregorian chants, that’s this Gregory. One of his books is a commentary on Job that he wrote while in Constantinople. Job deals a lot with suffering and why God allows it. Gregory wrote, “The dawn intimates that the night is over, but it does not proclaim the full light of day. Are not all of us who follow the truth in this life both daybreak and dawn? … This dawn is an ongoing process. When the dawn has come, the day will retain nothing belonging to the darkness of night.” I love this visual that we are daybreak and dawn. Sunrise this morning was at 7:18 a.m., but many of you know that it starts getting light before then. I can walk my dogs as early as 6:30 and not need a flashlight. There’s that moment when the light first peeks over the horizon, long before the actual sun. Light comes first, before the source of the light. And if you can see the light, if it’s not too cloudy or foggy or rainy, first light is glorious. It’s beautiful. It’s lovely. It draws you to it and makes you want to watch it. Because dawn isn’t just a moment in time but a process of the sun coming up, of the world waking up. Dawn is an ongoing process.

Early morning light - picture taken 7:08 a.m., January 23, 2020

            Now, back to Jesus. He said, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near,” and he went all over Galilee proclaiming the good news and healing the people. “The proclamation of [God’s] kingdom is not [just] verbal, not [only] a teaching but [also] a series of actions designed to bring wholeness to [the people] and the community. The reign of God has dawned not only because Jesus spoke it into existence but also because he was willing to heal the sick and make whole the broken.”[1] Dawn isn’t just the light coming but also the actions to bring about God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. It includes healing the sick and making the broken whole. That’s why, while Jesus is here in Galilee, where the light has dawned, he also calls the first disciples. They’re fishermen, who are also up early and know about dawn and daybreak. He calls Simon and Andrew. He calls James and John. Both sets of brothers immediately leave their nets and their boat and follow Jesus. Because he’s offering them a light so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.

Y’all are here because you’ve seen that light. Light has dawned on us. The Lord is our light and our salvation; therefore, we will not be afraid. Therefore, we will not be made to feel inadequate. The kingdom of heaven is near and we will work with Jesus to usher it in, through love, through words of kindness, through sharing our light and offering hope and help and support and healing to all those in need. We are daybreak and dawn. We are about that process in this liminal time or already and not yet. Morning has broken, and yet some still walk in darkness. Let us, with arms of love, let a light so lovely shine through us that others may be drawn to follow Jesus as well.

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[1] http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=789

Shine Light on Discipleship, Part I

2^nd Sunday after the Epiphany

January 19, 2020

Isaiah 49:1-7; Psalm 40; John 1:29-42

            The Montgomery bus boycott started December 5, 1955 after not just Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to give up her seat to a white man, but also Claudette Colvin earlier that same year. Martin Luther King, Jr. was chosen to head the boycott, for a variety of reasons. Everyone thought the boycott would only go on for a few days, instead of the full year it actually lasted. Not quite two months in, by late January 1956, Dr. King was ready to give up. He had received numerous death threats, not just to him but to his family. In fact, a couple days later, his house was bombed. After a late night strategy session, Dr. King arrived home. His family was in bed. The phone rang with another chilling message, “Leave Montgomery immediately if you have no wish to die.” Dr. King hung up the phone, walked to the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee, and sank down in a chair at his kitchen table. He was exhausted and his courage was all but gone. He prayed out loud to God and said, in his own words, “‘I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I've come to the point where I can't face it alone.’ At that moment, I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced God before. It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice saying: ‘Stand up for justice, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever.’ Almost at once my fears began to go. My uncertainty disappeared. I was ready to face anything.”[1]

            There are times when we’re all ready to give up. There are times when we’re just plain tired, times when we’re not sure we have the strength to keep going. There are times when things don’t go well, despite our best efforts. It’s like this past week in my house. We all always get the flu shot every year, and we haven’t had the flu since the H1N1 virus of 2009. But this year, three of us caught the flu, anyway, although thankfully we had much milder cases than they would have been without the flu shot. Whether life and death or a long uphill battle against injustice or simply a matter of health, we all have times when our best isn’t enough. There are times when we’re ready to say with Isaiah, “I have labored in vain; I have spent my strength for nothing at all.” I wasted my time, energy, and money. It didn’t work out how it was supposed to or how I really hoped it would. Why did I bother?

            While dealing with disappointment is a good life skill, look at what both Isaiah and the psalmist did with their disappointment and the mess they found themselves in: They both turned to the Lord. Our psalm this morning began, “I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire.” When life isn’t turning out how we’d planned, when we do everything right and things still go wrong, following the example of Isaiah and the psalmist and countless others, we are to cry out to the Lord, who hears us and responds. When things go wrong, do you still remember God then? Or do you start cussing, or blaming yourself, or blaming others, or giving up? How do you respond when you find yourself, for whatever reason, down in the miry bog and desolate pit? Personally, I tend to blame myself. What could I have done better? Is there something else I should have said? Yet with the flu this past week, the answer is nothing. I did everything right, and I kept my children from being sicker than they otherwise would have been. Sickness is part of life. You have to figure out how to deal with it because it’s going to happen, no matter how much hand sanitizer you use.

            It helps to remember who you are and whose you are, as we talked about last week. Isaiah was quite clear about it. He wrote, “Before I was born the Lord called me; from my mother’s womb he has spoken my name… He said to me, ‘You are my servant…, in whom I will display my splendor.’ But I said, ‘I have labored in vain; I have spent my strength for nothing at all. Nevertheless, I’ll let God have the last word. I’ll let him pronounce his verdict.’ This is the same as the psalmist waiting patiently for the Lord. I feel like I have nothing to show for my work and my efforts were in vain, yet I’ll wait and see what God says. And what does the Lord say? “It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back the strays of Israel. I will also make you a light for the nations, so that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” Things seem to be a mess and yet the Lord now makes us a light for others, that others might see God’s light through us. We talked two weeks ago on Epiphany about needing more light. One of the places the more light comes from is from each other as we share God’s love and God’s light with each other.

            The psalmist says the Lord “put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him.” Remember, this isn’t fear the Lord as in be afraid of the Lord, this is fear the Lord as in be in awe and reverence of and amazed by the Lord. The Lord gives us a new song which others will hear, and through hearing our new song, they are drawn to the Lord themselves.

This is what happens in our Gospel reading this morning, although without the music. We have John the Baptist who witnesses to Jesus by simply pointing him out and saying, “Look, the Lamb of God!” When John’s two disciples who were with him heard John say that, they immediately left John and started following Jesus! Now, in that case, John did everything right. He witnessed to Jesus and told others about him. And what happened? He lost his followers. His disciples defected and became Jesus’ disciples. While that was a good thing, because John was faithful with the mission given to him to point the way to Jesus, it had to also feel a bit weird at the end, when he’s left by himself.

The other person who witnesses to Jesus in our Gospel lesson is Andrew. Andrew was one of those two people who were John’s disciples and then became one of Jesus’ disciples. He’s one of the twelve disciples, in fact. However, the only other thing we know about Andrew is this action he takes here, where after defecting to follow Jesus, the first thing he does is go and find his brother and tell his brother about Jesus. Andrew brought his brother to Jesus and the brother became one of the twelve disciples, too. Do you know who that brother was? Peter. As in the one involved in all those conversations with Jesus. As in the one to whom Jesus hands the keys to the kingdom. The one who leads the early church and becomes the first Pope. The one who is martyred by being crucified upside down because he didn’t think he was worthy to die in the same way as Jesus. The one who denies Jesus three times before Jesus’ death and then is reinstated by Jesus after the resurrection. There is so much we know about Peter. Do you think Andrew ever resented Peter and wished he hadn’t brought Peter to Jesus? There could have been some sibling rivalry there and jealousy. Or perhaps Andrew was happy for his brother simply for the fact that he knew Jesus and he didn’t worry about comparing their faith journeys. I imagine Andrew was proud of who his brother became and didn’t try to take ownership of Peter’s faith by pointing out that if not for him, Peter wouldn’t even know Jesus. Andrew seems like a quiet, mature, behind-the-scenes type. And yet he knows the truth of what we’ll sing in our last hymn, “once you’ve experienced God’s love, you want to pass it on.”[2]

            Oftentimes, our experience of God’s love is part of our invitation to others to come and meet Jesus. It’s our testimony of how when we were bogged down in the miry pit, God heard our cry, drew us up, and set our feet upon a rock, making our steps secure. There’s a saying that there’s no testimony without a test. Literally, “T-E-S-T” are the first four letters of testimony. And our witness, our testimony, is the story of how we know God’s love, of the tests God has brought us through, safe thus far, and the assurance that God will lead us home. Here’s the thing about the times when life doesn’t go according to plan: it’s an opportunity for you to trust God and let God use it for good. Let God see you through it, and then be sure to tell others what God has done for you. That’s how you become a light to the nations. And you know light shines brighter through broken glass than it does through one solid pane of glass. Let God use your suffering, let God transform the mess you find yourself in. It’s when we don’t think we have any more to give and when we trust and rely on God that we find strength unending and we’re reminded that our work for God is not in vain. Dr. King stayed faithful to God and to the call God placed on his life. He didn’t give up. Be encouraged this morning to not give up, either. Stay faithful. And let God’s light shine through you.

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[1] https://www.ncronline.org/blogs/road-peace/god-dr-kings-kitchen-table

[2] “Pass It On,” UMH 572

Shine the Light on Who You Really Are

Baptism of the Lord

January 12, 2020

Isaiah 42:1-9; Matthew 3:13-17

            We talked last week about Spiritual Affective Disorder, a play off of Seasonal Affective Disorder, and how, either way, what you need is more light. This week, we’re going to take that more light and shine it on you. You can tell your fears and insecurities to calm down; this is not a harsh spotlight that’s going to reveal all your flaws and imperfections. Jesus is not that kind of light. Instead, this is the kind of light that bathes you in a warm glow, that makes you feel loved and secure and peaceful. It’s the kind of light you see in any picture of Jesus’ baptism, where you’ve got Jesus and John in the water, and the heavens open and the Spirit of God descends. And that image of heaven opening and the Spirit descending is most likely visualized with yellow light. I’m talking about that kind of light. Now, we are not Jesus, we are not the Savior of the world, and we are not God’s only begotten Son. However, we are God’s children. And we do experience baptism. And God’s Spirit does descend upon us.

            There was a couple at the church where I was baptized who are artists. For my baptism, they presented my family with this painting:

I will confess I always found it strange as a kid, perhaps because I didn’t live through much of the ‘70’s, and so the bright orange color always seemed jarring to me. Yet you can see God’s Spirit descending as a dove on my name. You can see the light around the dove’s head, right above my name. I think the orange, besides being a popular color in the 1970’s, also helps add to the feeling of light. And you can see the waters of baptism surrounding me. This is what happens at each of our baptisms. God’s Spirit descends upon us. There is light around us. And we are there in the middle of the waters of baptism. And, whether you heard it or not, at your baptism, just like at Jesus’s, a voice from heaven said, “This is my beloved child. With you I am well pleased.” Pleased not because of anything you’ve done, but simply because of who you are: God’s handiwork; God’s masterpiece. Whether you’re feeling it today or not, you are perfectly and beautifully made. You are made in the image of God and you are God’s beloved child.

            Isaiah 42 is paired with Jesus’s baptism because the words that God speaks are so similar. Listen to them again, “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will bring justice to the nations.” Unlike last week’s Isaiah reading, when God’s people were returning from exile, this week the people are in exile. Babylon has destroyed the temple, plundered Israel, and taken the people away in chains. “This was utter, complete devastation of the political, social, economic and religious life God’s people had known for centuries.”[1] And it caused an identity crisis. Who were they now? Were they still God’s people? How were they going to worship if they couldn’t do it in the temple? Had God abandoned them? Who were they without the promised land? Into that identity crisis, Isaiah speaks this word, reminding the people of who God is, how God works, and that they are still, always, God’s people even if the surroundings and buildings change.

            A similar theme is found in Psalm 89 as well. That psalm is a royal psalm in that it “describes God's gracious work on behalf of and through the person of ancient Judean kings,”[2] in this case King David. It begins with praise for God’s steadfast love and faithfulness and God’s covenant with David. It ends with the psalmist crying out to God, because somehow that covenant seems to be endangered. One theory is that this psalm was written during the time of Babylonian exile, when Jerusalem was destroyed and there were no more kings. The middle of the psalm is the part that speaks to me, that reminds me of baptism and the reassurance that I belong to God, that I am important to God, that God knows my plight and is faithful to what God has promised me. It says, “I have found David my servant; with my sacred oil I have anointed him. My hand will sustain him; surely my arm will strengthen him. The enemy will not get the better of him; the wicked will not oppress him… My faithful love will be with him…   

He will call out to me, ‘You are my Father, my God, the Rock my Savior.’… I will maintain my love to him forever, and my covenant with him will never fail.”

            Baptism is a covenant. It’s a promise made to God and by God and it involves more than just the person being baptized; it involves all of us, the faith community. Baptism is joining God’s family, that’s why it’s part of regular worship services and not a private service. I don’t do private baptisms (and I’ve been asked) because it’s important for the family of God to be present, since we have a role to play, too. We promise to nurture, to love, to pray for, to help the person grow in their faith and in their love of God. And, here’s the great thing about the church: even if you don’t worship in the church where you were baptized, the congregation you’re currently a part of takes on that responsibility. We’re all part of the household of God, each local church. And so while another local church may have been the ones to say out loud those promises, we here and now are still bound by those same promises, because they were making them on behalf of the Church universal. We are to love and nurture each other, to pray for each other, to spur each other on in works of love and mercy, to help each other along the journey.

            Sometimes, sadly, the local church doesn’t do that. And when hurt by the church, some people choose to leave it altogether. Others simply find a different church that will nurture and support them. The good news is that even when we break the covenant, God still keeps it. God is faithful. And God’s part of that covenant, to sustain you, to strengthen you, to delight in you, to love you; that part never changes. It never gets broken. There are times when the covenant may seem to be endangered: when you may wonder if God isn’t pleased with you, or if God couldn’t love you. But remember, we base those ideas off our actions and our own perceptions of ourselves. “I’m too messed up; God couldn’t possibly love me.” Or, “I’ve made some bad choices that God can’t be pleased with.” This is why it’s important to shine the light on who you really are: God’s beloved child. God delights in you because you’re you. God loves you and will always love you, no matter what, unconditionally. You may turn away from God, but God will not turn away from you. There are times it may seem like it, in which case I suggest reading Psalm 89 as if God’s talking about you and insert your name: “I have found [Heather] my servant; with my sacred oil I have anointed her. My hand will sustain her; surely my arm will strengthen her. The enemy will not get the better of her; the wicked will not oppress her. My faithful love will be with her, I will maintain my love to her forever, and my covenant with her will never fail.” It makes a difference to add your own name in there, doesn’t it? But God is speaking to you.

            Now, Isaiah 42 talks a little bit more about this covenant. “I, the Lord, have called you in righteousness; I will take hold of your hand. I will keep you and will make you to be a covenant for the people and a light for the nations, to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.” Light isn’t shined on us just so we can sit and look pretty. Life isn’t all about us, no matter how egotistical it’s socially acceptable to be. We are called to walk in the light, God gives us light so that we might share the light with others. We love because God first loved us and God invites to go share that love with the rest of the world, to remind others that they, too, are a beloved child of God, made in God’s image, and God delights in them, too. We, God’s people, are to be a light for the nations. Through us, God wants to open eyes that are blind, free captives from prison, and release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness. We do that with God’s help. We do that by living into our baptismal vows. In just a few minutes, we’re going to reaffirm our baptismal covenant, so I’m not going to repeat it now.

            However, here’s what you need to know next. We didn’t read all of Isaiah 42. After this covenant is a call for all creation to sing to the Lord a new song. God delights in us and wants to use us to bring about justice and liberation, and so God’s delight bursts forth through creation with “roaring seas, lifted voices, songs of joy, and shouts of praise [as though] creation cannot contain itself. And through the din, we glimpse the exilic community – renewed in hope, commissioned and inspired to participate in God's reconciling work. May we who follow in Christ's baptism remember that we are likewise.”[3] Our faith community, our branch of God’s family, let us remember who we are and whose we are. May we be renewed in hope. May we be reminded of God’s covenant to us, that we are important to God and loved by God, that God delights in us, simply because of who we are: God’s children.

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[1] http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1938

[2] https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=194

[3] http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=21

Spiritual Affective Disorder

Epiphany of the Lord

January 5, 2020

Isaiah 60:1-6; Matthew 2:1-12

Spiritual Affective Disorder[1]

            In 1984, Dr. Norman Rosenthal and his associates at the National Institute of Mental Health published a paper on their research into what is now called Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD. Dr. Rosenthal noticed that he was much more depressed during the winter after moving from South Africa, where it was mostly sunny, even during the winter, to New York, where winters are mostly cloudy. His study on light therapy found that the reduction in natural light did, in fact, make a difference. While initially greeted with skepticism, SAD is now widely accepted and Dr. Rosenthal’s book called “Winter Blues,” first published in 1993, is now in its fourth edition. How many of you suffer from SAD or know someone who does? It only has about a 1% rate in Florida, but about 9% of the population in New England has it. The National Institute of Mental Health lists four main treatments for it: vitamin D, psychotherapy, medication, and the light boxes that were part of Dr. Rosenthal’s original study. The basic idea is that you need more light. So, it’s a good thing, that here in the bleak midwinter, the light of the world was born just 12 days ago.

            Isaiah 60 is part of what’s called Third Isaiah, which covers chapter 56 through the end of the book, chapter 66. It dates to the 6^th century BC, when the exiles in Babylon were allowed to return to Jerusalem. There was some conflict between those who had never left and those who now returned. Living conditions were difficult. Jerusalem was in ruins. God’s people were no longer fighting against a common enemy but amongst themselves. The first couple chapters of Third Isaiah have to do with gloom, despair, calls to repentance, and yet also, a yearning for light. In Isaiah 59, the chapter before the one we read this morning, it says, “We look for light, but all is darkness; for brightness, but we walk in deep shadows. Like the blind we grope along the wall, feeling our way like people without eyes. At midday we stumble as if it were twilight.” Then the chapter ends with God’s response. Thus says the Lord, “As for me, this is my covenant with [my people]. My Spirit, who is on you, will not depart from you, and my words that I have put in your mouth will always be on your lips, on the lips of your children and on the lips of their descendants—from this time on and forever.” It practically echoes Psalm 119, the basis for our threshold song this morning, “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. When I feel afraid, think I've lost my way, still you're there right beside me.” That’s what God’s promising. “My Spirit will not depart from you. My words will always be on your lips.” Then, turn the page, chapter 60, “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you. See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the Lord rises upon you and his glory appears over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.” Boom! We look for light but we can’t find it. Sounds a bit like depression or Seasonal Affective Disorder, doesn’t it? The Lord promises “My Spirit and my words will always be with you.” And then it’s time to arise and shine, for your light has come.

            Now, we usually celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, the birthday of the church, after Jesus’s death, resurrection, and ascension. Jesus promises the Holy Spirit to his disciples. Yet here, six centuries earlier, the Lord is also promising that the Spirit is with us and will always be with us. We know the Holy Spirit has always been around, since Genesis 1, when the earth was a formless void and Spirit hovered over the waters. The third person of the Trinity has always been around. Yet God promises the Holy Spirit here, in Isaiah 60. God makes it part of the covenant with the people who are returning to Jerusalem and with those who never left. We’ll talk more about the Holy Spirit next week when we celebrate Jesus’ baptism and remember our own. But for now, know and trust that God’s Spirit will never leave you and is active and moving still today.

            God says that God’s words won’t ever leave us, either. What is the word for today? “Arise and shine, for your light has come.” It reminds me of that song I learned as a kid, “Rise and shine, and give God the glory, glory. Rise and shine, and give God the glory, glory. Rise! And shine! And, give God the glory, children of the Lord.” Anyone else know that one? Now, there are times when we don’t feel like rising and shining. There are times when we’re not in the mood to give God the glory, we’d rather give God a piece of our minds instead. There are times when, rather than Seasonal Affective Disorder, we have Spiritual Affective Disorder. It’s like somebody forgot to turn on the lights in your spiritual life. Or maybe the music is missing. It feels hard to get up and go. We lead lives that are too crowded, busy, overcommitted, sometimes disturbing and uncertain. We find ourselves disconnected from God, living in the darkness of chaos and uncertainty. It may be from the news just in the last four days: wildfires burning in Australia, escalating conflict in Iran, a potential split in our denomination, a family who lost their little two year old boy. Things can feel heavy and out of our control, causing us to feel depressed spiritually. Why should we bother rising and shining? 

            Well, those wise men certainly rose and shined when their light came. They studied the skies; they knew all the stars and their rotations. And then came a special star, one that wasn’t like the other ones. A star that compelled them to pack up their bags and follow it. The tug they had been waiting for all their lives. It came! Their light came and they arose and shone. They brought gifts from their home countries, strange gifts to be sure, but gifts to honor a king.  They were paying attention, they saw the star when it arose, and they knew they had to follow that star with royal beauty bright, so that they might go worship the king who had been born, so that they might go worship Jesus, who is the light of the world.

            “Arise and shine for your light has come.” This is true for you as well. Your light has come and it is time to rise and shine. It is time to throw off whatever spiritual doldrums you may have found yourself in. These next few weeks we’re going to look at spiritual practices to get us out of the mid-winter blues and into the light of our lives. We know the treatments for Seasonal Affective Disorder. Let’s work on treatment for Spiritual Affective Disorder. Let’s see how experiencing the everyday activities of our lives as blessing, as filled with God’s offer of radiance, can offer us a chance to be filled with the Light in whom we believe. This first week we affirm that the very act of “arising” each day is a gift from God. This might look like a prayer when you first wake up – “Thank you, Lord, for waking me up! Thank you for another day!” This might look like speaking up in situations when you normally would rather keep the peace no matter the cost. This might look like sharing your faith with someone who hasn’t heard the story of why you follow Jesus. In case you hadn’t noticed, arising and shining takes courage.  But we can do these things because our light has come. Jesus, the Light of the world, has come. As we begin this new year, you are invited to open up to the light of God's love and grace. Light therapy isn’t just for Seasonal Affective Disorder, it’s also for Spiritual Affective Disorder. We need more light. We need more Jesus. Seek him out. Search for him, just like the wise men. Because you know what? Unlike the returned exiles in Isaiah 59, when you search for this light, you will find him.

Let us pray: Giver of Light, You shine a radiant joy into the darkness of life.

Open my heart to the brightness of your glory, that I may find the light of your love in all I do. Amen.

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[1] Idea for Spiritual Affective Disorder as well as a few other pieces of this sermon came from Worship Design Studio’s worship series, “SAD: Spiritual Affective Disorder”

Incarnate Joy

Christmas Eve 11 p.m.

December 24, 2019

Isaiah 9:2-7; Luke 2:1-20

            I asked my stepdad if he would play the special music for this service, and he not only said yes, he also asked me what I would like him to play! Usually, with most musicians, they already have a piece or two in mind before they agree to play and I have little if no say in the matter. Instead, the world was wide open with possibilities for tonight! However, one of my favorite Christmas carols is not in our hymnal and rarely gets sung at Christmastime unless by a soloist and that is “O Holy Night.” So, I asked my stepdad to play “O Holy Night,” and his response was, “I even have two versions of it!” Thank you, Jim, for playing tonight.

            This Advent and Christmas season we have been celebrating the 300^th anniversary of another favorite Christmas carol, “Joy to the World.” Earlier in Advent, I challenged our congregation to engage in those preparations and traditions that bring joy to them and to others, such as playing your favorite Christmas music and singing along OUT LOUD. I tend to practice what I preach and so I put in one of my favorite Christmas CD’s that week. “O Holy Night” came on and the singer just rushed through this phrase that caught my attention and my reaction was no, we need to spend more time there. There’s a line in the first verse that says, “A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.” The artist rushed right through “weary world” and held out “rejoices” for longer. “The weary world re-joi-ces…” But the truth is we are the weary world and we need to hold onto this truth that with “a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.” It was interesting, I got a new Christmas CD this year, from a kickstarter that I backed, so I wasn’t completely sure what to expect, and that artist also covered “O Holy Night,” only she sang it much slower. The first CD came out 15 years ago, and I think we were less weary then and so we could rush through the “weary world” part. Things were different 15 years ago, pre-recession, pre- a lot of things. But now, I think this new artist nailed it: with “a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.” We need to spend time there.

            I don’t know about you, but I’m weary. And I think we, collectively, are weary. Weary of competing, wearing of over-compensating, weary of over-working, weary of perfectionism, weary of worrying, weary of anxiety, weary of fear, weary of the divisions, weary of the difficulty of communicating, weary of so many things. I’m sure you can add many more items to the list. It’s not exhaustive. I’m wearing of trying to be exhaustive.

            In Isaiah we read, “You, God, have increased our joy; we rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest; as people rejoice when dividing plunder.” That last bit about plunder sounds a bit like kids at Christmastime, right? Or at the Easter egg. People rejoice when dividing their plunder. That’s the level of joy God is offering us: a giddy, giggly, big smiles, laughing, carefree kind of joy because of the abundance of what there is. Same idea with joy at the harvest, and I think this presupposes a good year when the harvest is abundant. How much joy there is in gathering the crops, storing them, preparing them to sell or for feed, it’s an abundant, happy, giggly joy.

            “The weary world rejoices.” Talk about a low to a high all in one short sentence. I read a devotional the other day that talked about part of why the world likes Christmastime and society gets into it, whether they go to church or not, is because of the break it offers. We in the church know the church calendar and seasons and rhythms with Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, Ordinary Time, and so on. Farmers know the rhythm of the land and the weather seasons. Teachers and students know the school calendar. But for other folks, life gets a bit more monotonous and Christmas completely changes the pace of things. The weary world, those who are weary of the monotony, who pay less attention to the changing of the seasons and the times, they need a reason for joy. We need a reason for joy. And that reason is the “child that has been born to us, a son given to us, authority rests upon his shoulders and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”  

            “A thrill of hope and the weary world rejoices.” That thrill of hope isn’t Luke Skywalker, the “new hope” that began the Star Wars saga. That thrill of hope is the appearance of Jesus, God made flesh, incarnate, God come to live and be with us and never leave us. Another tidbit for you, the original title of “O Holy Night” in its original French is Midnight Christians. The literal English translation says, “Midnight, Christians, is the solemn hour, When God as man descended unto us/ To erase the stain of original sin/ And to end the wrath of His Father. The entire world thrills with hope/ On this night that gives it a Savior.” I grew up with my mom saying, “Nothing good happens after dark,” which is pretty good with kids and teenagers, when you want them home and safe. However, dark, midnight, holy night, is when Christ was born. “O holy night! The stars are brightly shining, It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth. Long lay the world in sin and error pining, Till He appear'd and the soul felt its worth. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.” “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them light has shined.” For the weary, a thrill of hope, and an offer for abundant joy. Thanks be to God.