A Meditation on Light

Homily for Sunday, January 23, 2011

Lessons:
Isaiah 9:1-4
Psalm 27: 1, 5-13
Matthew 4: 12-23

On January 2nd, as David and I were driving home after visiting family and friends in Northern Virginia, we drove through a brief rain shower near Ruckersville, and then, as we turned onto Earlysville Road, a double rainbow appeared in the sky. How propitious seemed that rare and spectacular phenomenon at the beginning of a new year and in the midst of winter!

For a variety of reasons, January has often been a difficult month for me. The days are short, dark, and cold, and it seems that bad things always happen in January... the shooting in Tucson this year and that terrible earthquake in Haiti last year are examples. A few years ago, to ease my dread of this month, I decided to make a special effort to celebrate the season of Epiphany. My artificial Christmas tree has always gone up in early December, and I decorate it with white lights and blue ornaments and call it my Advent tree. On Christmas Eve, we add red, green, and gold trimmings, and the tree is bright with Christmas cheer. Now I have removed all but the white lights, the stars, snowflakes, and angels, and I call it my Epiphany tree. I'm delighted to be able to leave it up into March this year, since Ash Wednesday is late and Epiphany is a wonderfully long season. How fitting that it is called "The Season of Light"!

But what exactly IS light? As a certainty of everyday life, we fathom light most easily in its absence; at least, in darkness we better grasp our need for light. A scientist would tell you that light is electromagnetic radiation. Just as a living organism can be broken down into cells, light is made up of photons. When sunlight makes its way through droplets of rain, it is refracted into the colors of the spectrum, and we call it a rainbow. Although we think of the sun and moon as earth's primary sources of light (other than our man-made ones), the universe is full of light not generated by its heavenly bodies. Isn't it interesting that in Genesis 1, we are told that God said "Let there be light" on the first day? It isn't until Day 4 that He creates the sun and moon. Light, then, simply IS. Like air, it is a substance we can move through in space and time. Although it is intangible, light has a definite and important part to play in our lives.

The shorter days of the winter months, the preponderance of darkness, and the lengthening of twilight in the late afternoon have led to an ailment that afflicts a significant number of people--Seasonal Affective Disorder, more commonly (and aptly) called SAD. People who suffer from SAD are urged to use sunlamps and to go outdoors in midday, when the sun is brightest. Even if we've never been diagnosed with SAD, most of us can be a little blue on the darkest days. As much as we long for light during the darkness of our winters, imagine what light must have meant to people during the millennia of human history before the invention of electricity. Nowadays one has to drive very far out on back country roads to escape what is called light pollution, and we have more light than we need at the flip of a switch. Last February, by the fourth day of being out of power, I felt a shroud of gloom at nightfall, and I wasn't sure I could endure it for even one more day. Please imagine with me the world as Isaiah and Jesus, Shakespeare and Thomas Jefferson, and even our great-great grandparents knew it, when every evening brought unyielding night. The light produced by candles, torches, and oil lamps couldn't penetrate the darkness beyond a few feet, and darkness must have seemed like a wall.

A world that experienced genuine, almost tangible darkness for half of every day is the context for today's words from the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah speaks of the Lord as a "great light." "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness--on them, light has shined." The preciousness and power of God for his people is summed up in Isaiah's equating of God with light. But it is the ending of this chapter in Isaiah, Chapter 9, that connects the splendid origin of that "great light" to the coming of the Messiah: "For a child 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, the Prince of Peace." Jesus is the Light of the World. He says so himself in John 8:12. "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."

Light as an image of truth, power, life, and hope hearkens back to the first story of creation in Genesis, when the earth was called "a formless void" and darkness covered everything, until God spoke and said, "Let there be light." Isaiah tells us that the arrival of Jesus is the ultimate fulfillment of the creation promise. "His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace..." The star that heralded his birth and drew three wise men from the east is the first association of light with Jesus. What were these wise men really seeking? Some scholars surmise that they came from Persia. At the time of Jesus's birth, the dominant religion of Persia was Zoroastrianism, whose doctrine was to believe in one universal God, a God that espoused truth, beauty, and order. For three men of high station (they are called kings, after all) and great learning to make such a difficult journey, it suggests they had very high expectations of the infant they came to honor. Could these men, who may have believed in one universal and unifying God, have sought out the infant hoping he would bring peace to all mankind? Is the story of the Epiphany foreshadowing the arrival of God's kingdom on earth?..."Thy kingdom come," we say...

In today's gospel lesson from Matthew 4, Jesus is specifically connected to Isaiah's prophecy of the Prince of Peace; in verses 12 through 17, Isaiah's words are rephrased. As he begins his ministry, Jesus tells the people that he has come to bring the kingdom of heaven: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." And what will God's kingdom look like? In God's kingdom, people are cured of every disease and every sickness, as Matthew 4:23 tells us. Jesus is the light of the world. He is also love. In last Sunday's lesson from Living the Questions, a biblical scholar suggested that the idea of the kingdom of God is an easy one to understand if we remember that Jesus and everyone around him lived under the rule of a Roman emperor. The world would have been a very different place with God on the throne instead of the emperor. Better yet, this scholar suggested, if God was and is king, what would God's budget look like? How would Jesus spend your tax dollars? As he himself said, "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

Here, of course, light means having little weight and being easy to carry. Even in our well-lighted world, the significance of light is still reflected in our use of the word. As a word, light has many happy connotations. Shall we mediate on a few of them?

When your grandchild calls you on the phone and says, "Are you coming over?" (as mine did yesterday), you might think, as I did, that child is the light of your life.

When you "see the light," you have finally understood something that had been perplexing and troubling you.

To "shed light" on something is to bring it out into the open so that everyone can appreciate its meaning.

When a person's face "lights up," it is full of joy.

Someone with a "light touch" has the grace to deal with others tactfully and delicately.

When a butterfly "lights" on a flower, anyone who sees it may be cheered.

To have a "light heart" is to feel released from care and worry.

If you are "light on your feet" you are nimble and graceful.

The Age of "Enlightenment" was a time when reason and science overcame superstition and prejudice.

Before I get too carried away with the various uses of the word light, I would like to ask all of us to consider what our world would be like if the light of Jesus had never entered it. Seriously, can you imagine this world without him?

I would never ask such a question anywhere but in a church. Here, we are united in our belief in Jesus as Lord. We profess the truth of his teachings and, in calling ourselves Christian, we acknowledge our faith in him. As Episcopalians, we are all part of the Anglican communion, and as Americans, we have been shaped by Western culture and Western civilization. The laws we live by and the way we conduct our daily endeavors all reflect the philosophy and mores handed down to us by our European ancestors. From the Magna Carta to the King James version of the Bible, from our own constitution to Lincoln's "Gettysburg Address," we are a people who have inherited the benefits of living in God's kingdom. We believe in justice, in mercy, in equality, in our responsibility for and to others. We believe in self-sacrifice for the greater good, in courage, in integrity. All of these principles were modeled for us and for our ancestors by Jesus Christ, the Light of the World. The kingdom is very near when the Light prevails.