Pasadena Presbyterian Church Sermon Text
December 24, 2003

"Disturbed by Light"

Preached by The Rev. Dr. Barbara Anderson

Scripture:  Isaiah 9:2-7; Luke 2:8-14

(2) 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. (3) You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder. (4) For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. (5) For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. (6) For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (7) His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.

- Isaiah 9: 2-7

(8) In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. (9) Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. (10) But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid; for see-I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: (11) to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. (12) This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.' (13) And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, (14) 'Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!'

- Luke 2: 8-14

Sometimes its cause is sheer exhaustion.  Sometimes it's the pressure of the day's demands.  Sometimes it is grief, or loneliness, or worry that rolls in as the quiet world of sleep drifts away.  Sometimes it's the decisions that will need to be faced in the day ahead. 

You know what it is to long for the deep darkness of sleep to hold you fast and keep out the light for a little longer.  You snuggle your face into the pillow.  You turn away from the window.  But the light finds its way around the edges of the curtains or between the blinds, nevertheless.  You open your eyes in little slits to see if you can pull the drapes or close the blinds more tightly.  Not hopeful.  Besides, making that much effort to keep the light out would wake you up anyway.  You pile pillows up beside your head in a futile effort to create shade.  You crawl further under the covers.  You close your eyes tightly to keep the light out.  "Go away!  I'm not ready for daylight.  I want the darkness."

If you'd open the curtains, you'd see mountains out your window.  Or maybe the tall pines of the Sierra.  Maybe sparkles reflecting off a rippled ocean.   Maybe a potted kumquat on your patio.  Maybe you'd see a sky the color of eternity, as skies are on the day after a rain.  That is, if you could stop being disturbed by the light and open your eyes to receive it  To wake up and embrace the Light, or to fight it and remain asleep: this is the question of Christmas.

There is a place in the human heart that longs to keep out the light.  It's more comfortable to stay asleep, to pull the covers of complacency and denial over our head.  Even when life is restless or troubled by living nightmares, there is a part of the human heart that still tries to keep out the light and stay asleep.  It feels somehow safer that way. 

We believe we can avoid responsibility for what is going on around us when we're covered in denial, with our eyes pressed shut and our minds asleep.  Like children who wish they could sleep through school and miss a dreaded test, we long to stay where we are and let someone else be the grown-up today.  Let someone else solve the problems in the Middle East and South America, Africa and Korea.  Let someone else improve California's schools.  Let someone else find funding for decent health care. 

There is a place in the human heart that wants to remain unseeing, in darkness.  We hope that if we keep the light from shining in we won't have to deal proactively with our family conflicts, with our addictions or those of our loved one, with our feeling trapped in our job, with our God-given gifts going unused.  If we can shut out the light, we won't have to see the ramifications of scars we carry from long-ago, which even now trip us like roots on a path through the woods.  If we can stay in the dark we won't have to face the harmful consequences on other people's lives caused by our manipulation or out-of-control anger, our deception or unwillingness to trust.  There is a place in the human heart that believes it best to stay huddled in the dark shadows of night with our eyes shut tightly against the dawning of the light.

We are here tonight, however, because there is also a place in the human heart that longs for light to break through, that longs for light to find its way through the cracks and crevices of our defenses until it bursts upon us like a host of heavenly angels in the sky singing "Glory to God in the highest! And on earth, peace!"

There is a place in the human heart that longs for light to shine in so all tears will be seen and wiped away, all the broken places mended, all the dirt washed clean.  There is a longing for light to shine in the shuttered windows of the world and set right all injustice, overturn all oppression, and illumine the hatred, bitterness and greed that foster endless cycles of war.  There is a place in the human heart that longs for the strong power of God's light to expose and shrivel evil into nothingness as if evil were the Wicked Witch of the West.

The light of God that shines in the darkness is even more disturbing than the light that creeps around our window shades in the morning.  It is also a greater source of hope for us and for the world than any light the eye can see.  This is the light for which the human heart longs more than it longs for darkness.  This is the light of the world that beckons us into new life and gives us the courage to live it.  This is the light that shows us who we are, both the good and the bad, and then gives us the strength to change.  This light shows us the path to justice and peace, and gives us the heart to walk it.  This light shines on the faces of our family, our friends, strangers on the street, strangers across the globe and shows us the face of God in them.  This light shines on the whole world at once, for all the world belongs to God. 

We're here tonight because the part of our heart that longs for light and healing and hope dares to throw off the sheets and throw open the curtains to greet the light of angels singing in the heavens.  Tonight we who lived in a land of deep darkness on us light has shined.   "For unto us a child is born, and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Almighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  In him is life, and the life is the light of the world.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness shall never overcome it."

Tonight we will light candles in the darkness, each of us just one candle, but together, enough light to illumine the sanctuary.  Tonight the Light of the World will shine brightly in the darkness, working its way into the crevices of our hearts, asking us to forgive, inviting us to grow.  Tonight the Light of the World will push back the shadows of evil again, and challenge us to do our part for justice and mercy, good and God.  Tonight, we raise our candle in the darkness, and step into the light of that stable in Bethlehem where God is known in human flesh, hope is born, and the Prince of Peace comes to dwell among us.

Why do we dare pull back the covers, open the blinds and step into the light?  Because like the shepherds so long ago, we, too, long for light in the darkness, for healing in our relationships, for hope in our despair, and for peace in our generation.

In the words of the poet, preacher and musician Thomas Troeger, set to music recently by our Minister of Music Gregory Norton:

Disturbed by light while fighting sleep ,
their eyes half closed, half watching sheep
the shepherds might have turned away
and rested 'til the break of day.

Why risk the night, the winds that blow?
Why risk the way we do not know?

Disturbed by light that marked the sky
where dark alone once met the eye,
the magi might have paused to test
the wisdom of the star-born quest:

Why risk the night, the winds that blow?
Why risk the way we do not know?

Disturbed by light that draws us past
the world we grip so hard and fast
we might delay our starting out
until we answer every doubt:  

Why risk the night, the winds that blow?
Why risk the way we do not know?

Except --
except our hearts refuse to slow
and every beat insists we go!

("Disturbed by Light" by Thomas H. Troeger, from Above the Moon Earth Rises (c) copyright 2002 by Oxford University Press.)