“Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you.” The prophet Isaiah tells those who live in darkness that there is a dawning light of hope. It was a message of hope for the people thousands of years ago, and it remains one for us as well.
In
Isaiah’s time, the people were coming out of the Exile. In previous
generations, their land had been invaded by the Babylonians. The cities lay in
ruin, the ruling class was either killed or sent into exile in Babylon, those
who remained became subjects of the occupiers, and the Temple was destroyed.
And it’s not just that the Temple was torn down as any other building might
have been. No, the Temple was the dwelling place of God on earth – it was a
religious and existential crisis to have God’s Temple raided and destroyed by foreign
heathens. The people had been in darkness – a time when they weren’t sure of
their direction. But their Exile was coming to an end, as the Babylonian Empire
was conquered by the Assyrians. The captives were set free to return home and
rebuild their society and the Temple. The Lord
had provided deliverance for the people, and it is described as a light that
shines on the people.
Given
this Parish’s and my own commitment to beloved community and racial healing, I
do want to offer a word of caution about the use of the language of light and
dark. Generally speaking, light is interpreted as a good thing. We say people
are a shining example, or that they look radiant, or that they are brilliant. Darkness
usually conveys negative things, as the dark is often scary, something we
fumble around in, and we say “dim-witted” to mean unintelligent.
This
dichotomy between lightness and darkness makes some sense – the dark of night
does provide cover for enemies to attack, things covered by soot and dirt are
darker in appearance, while brightness is dazzling. But this is only one,
incomplete way to view light and darkness. The light can also be searing, blinding,
and revealing. Darkness is best for sleeping and for resting. We know from science
and art that white is the absence of color and black is the fullness of it. In
the darkness, we wait for God’s salvation. The darkness is a place of anticipation,
growth, and hope.
The
reason this matters is when we map positivity onto things and people that are
light and negativity onto things that are dark, we perpetuate implicit racism.
Blackness is a gift from God, but our language too often makes us forget this.
Harvard University developed the Implicit Association Test which has shown that
people of all backgrounds have a bias against things that are darker. This means
that people who have darker skin complexions are, reflexively and subconsciously,
perceived in line with those negative associations. Our attention to this
matter is important because our biases are a part of why racism remains a
perpetual problem in our society.
In
this sermon, I’m going to continue to speak of the themes of Isaiah, of
lightness and darkness – and the way Isaiah presents these, light is seen as
divine, and darkness is seen as chaotic. But I offer this disclaimer as a
reminder that this is only one way of interpreting these themes and while they
might apply well to the spiritual life, these positive and negative associations
should not be transferred onto people. This is part of what it means to strive
for beloved community and to work against the sin of racism, it is to be mindful
and cautious about what our language implies.
In
the passage from Isaiah, darkness is used to describe the gloom and chaos that had
surrounded and disoriented the people. What is important for us to hear is that
darkness does not mean abandonment. When we are in those valleys of the shadow
of death, it does not mean that God has rejected us or forgotten about us. For
in the darkness, the light comes.
But
before we rush ahead to the light, let’s linger in the dark for just a bit
longer. One of the important things that Isaiah does is that he names the fact
that there is darkness covering the earth. Too much of our society and theology
is on the sunny side. We don’t like to tell people about the darkness that we
are dealing with – the depression, the addiction, the fear, the resentment, the
disappointment, the frustration, the lifelessness, the doubt. Our world is
infected with things like war, greed, suffering, corruption, diseases, famine, disasters,
and death. Our faith can handle this though. God is bigger than these things,
and so we can be bold enough to name the darkness that surrounds us.
Simone
Weil, a philosopher and mystic, said “The extreme greatness of Christianity
lies in the fact that it does not seek a supernatural remedy for suffering but
a supernatural use of it.” As people of faith, we do not run from darkness,
rather we can embrace it and trust that there are lessons to be learned in the dark.
There is growth that happens in darkness. And this is true because God is with
us, even in the midst of our dark moments. Naming darkness is an important and
healthy spiritual discipline because it allows us to call for help, to admit
that we are not perfect, and to recognize that things are not okay. Naming
darkness for what it is is how we get to healing, transformation, and the
arrival of God. Yes, the light is coming and that’s what Epiphany is all about,
but let’s not skip past this holy work of naming the places where we desperately
need the light to shine.
The
light of Epiphany that matters is, of course, Jesus Christ, not some star that the
magi followed. Yes, the star was a wonderful sign for them, but the star wasn’t
the point. The magi could have studied the star from the comforts of their
homes. What they came and saw was the Light of the World in Mary’s boy and Pilate’s
victim.
The
way that Isaiah speaks about this light is important – the light comes upon us
as the Lord arises over us. We don’t
have to shine or manufacture the light. No, the line shines upon us and we reflect
it. This is the message of grace – that we don’t have to do anything in terms
of salvation, rather we get to participate in it. Understanding the difference
between “have to” and “get to” is the difference between legalism and Gospel,
between heresy and orthodoxy, between Christendom and Christianity. If creating
the light is up to us, then we fight with one another over who has the best
version of the light and who shines the brightest. But the light isn’t up to us
to make. Instead, we receive it, and the light enlightens us all. Imagine blades
of grass arguing which of them the light is shining on. Yet, that’s what we too
often do.
The
light comes to us – like a plant, that light is what leads to our
photosynthesis, our growth in faith, hope, and love. And running with this
plant metaphor just one step further, the point of the light that leads to photosynthesis
is a part of something bigger. Plants grow not only for their own sake but as a
part of an ecosystem. This is what the prophet tells us about the light that is
breaking upon us. “Nations shall come to your light, and kinds to the
brightness of your dawn.” We shine so that others might see the glory of God
being reflected in our lives.
Christians,
those who have seen this great light and seek to walk in the way of love, are
supposed to be attractive. The light of Christ that shines in us is meant to attract
others to the beauty of love, the graciousness of forgiveness, the hope of
faith. The light might come as a word of encouragement, a piece of good news, a
smile from a stranger, insight or guidance from the Holy Spirit. Just as visible
light has a wide spectrum, the saving light of Christ shows us and is refracted
in many ways in our lives.
No Christian is promised
a life without darkness, what we are given in Christ though is a light that
shines nevertheless. There is sin, but the Lord
shall arise upon you. You have doubts, but the Lord
shall arise upon you. You are dealing with grief, loss, or cancer, but the Lord shall arise upon you. Our society is
still full of racism and broken election, economic, and educational systems, but
the Lord shall arise upon you.
Churches are dealing with dwindling attendance and tighter budgets, but the Lord shall arise upon you. Our families
have friction, animosity, and strife, but the Lord
shall arise upon you. The world has dictators, warfare, and a climate crisis, but
the Lord shall arise upon you.
This
light of God that arises upon us not only helps us in those dark moments,
reminding us that we are not alone and guiding us towards justice and beloved
community, but this light is also meant to attract others to the glory of the
God who loves us all and who is making all things new. The light is given to us
that gloom might turn into glory. The light gives us a holy defiance to trust
and anticipate that the light of dawn is on the way.
On
this Feast of the Epiphany of our Lord Jesus Christ and in the days that follow,
spend some time naming the darkness that you are living with. Consider what you’ve
learned in the darkness and how it has shaped your prayers. What would God’s light
in that darkness look like?
From
there, you can then pray for that light to break and you might well find that
your anticipation of the light of Christ arising helps you to notice where it
has already been dawning but you overlooked. When you have glimpses of that
light – celebrate it, thank God for it, and share it. Tell others to “come and
see.” How can you reflect that light you have received?
Arise,
shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you ☩
in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
