December 17, 2023
Rev. Mary Erickson
Hope Lutheran Church
John 1:6-8, 19-28
Testify to the Light
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
I saw a PBS show a few weeks ago about Dark Sky Preserves. They’re part of the greater Dark Sky movement, which tries to limit light pollution at night. Through using less light and directing what we do use downwards instead of up into the sky, cities can reduce the amount of light in their atmosphere. This allows residents to see more of the brilliance of the night sky.
This PBS show about Dark Sky Preserves looked at two regions in northern Minnesota. The Boundary Waters Canoe Area and Voyageurs National Park are both dark sky preserves. The camera scenes of their brilliant nights skies were nothing short of breathtaking.
In Eau Claire, we can’t see more than the very brightest of stars. But on the rare occasions when I’ve been in a remote area at night, I’m awestruck at the array of stars and planets and the Milky Way.
Oddly, it’s only when we live in deep darkness that we can truly marvel at the light of night. It brings to mind the words of the psalmist:
“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars that you have established –
what are human beings that you are mindful of them,
mortals, that you care for them?”
Celestially, we’re approaching the Winter Solstice in our northern hemisphere. On December 21st, here in Eau Claire we’ll enjoy only a scant 8 hours and 48 minutes of sunlight. Which, by the way, is a ton better than Anchorage will be doing! The sun will rise there at 10:14 a.m. and set at 3:41 p.m. Uff da!
As our days grow shorter, our Sundays in Advent are adding light. This Sunday we light three candles on our wreath.
Today we hear about our old Advent friend, John the Baptist. He is very clear on who he is NOT. He is NOT the light. Rather, he’s come to testify TO the light. The light of the world is coming! John has come to alert a world in darkness that their light is about to shine.
In order to testify to the light, John has to be speaking to a people in darkness. There’s no need to testify to the light when you already dwell in it! It would be like if there were some kind of fish evangelist. And this fish minister proclaimed to her fellow fish all about water. “Brother Walleye, Sister Bass, let me tell you about water! Oh, it’s so very wonderful! What a great place to live! You can swim all about and blow bubbles to your heart’s content. This is paradise! Can I have an amen?” Well, they live in it! They don’t need anyone telling them about water.
No, John isn’t talking to people in the light. He’s speaking about light to people in darkness. He’s fulfilling the words of Isaiah, “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.” John is testifying to people who live bereft of light.
We’re not in touch with darkness the way that people in previous generations were. Light is so easy for us now. When evening comes, we flip a switch, and we can have all the light we want. It wasn’t always that way. Before our modern times, before electricity, there was much more darkness.
We had only pools of light. Families would circle about the glow from a single lantern. They carried around a candle from room to room, and the circle of light cut into the greater darkness.
But now, we flip a switch and instantly our house is filled with light. And there’s something about it that leads to a type of artificiality. It’s so easy for us to avoid the darkness. We do our darndest to deny it; we prefer to turn our backs to it.
We choose rather to live in the merriment of our rooms pulsating with light. We close fast the doors to our darkened chambers. And we’d prefer it if those shadows and poorly lit interiors would just go away – our sorrow, our loneliness, our addictions and sickness – our confusions, our shames. How greatly we would prefer it if we could lock all that darkness in the cold basement and just live upstairs with the lights filling every corner!
But every soul experiences its dark night, it cannot be avoided. And every heart knows the darkness of suffering and grief. And denying it doesn’t make the interior darkness go away. The light of artificially fabricated happiness has a harsh, carnival quality to it. The electric buzz reminds us that something isn’t genuine. It’s quality is somehow off from real daylight. We know real light when we see it, and this is not it.
And so our darkness isn’t really healed. It’s only covered up. And when darkness finally does come – as it always does – then the demons come out.
But John didn’t come for this. He came for a people who walk in darkness, he came for us in our dark night of the soul. That’s why he went to the wilderness, to the lonely places. He planted himself in the dark sky regions, far away from the artificial light which masks our ability to see the splendor of the true light. In that darkened wilderness the gentle advent of the true light can finally be seen. John came to testify to the light, the true light, the light no darkness can overcome.
This true light has been there since the beginning of time, when God uttered light into the world. That same enduring light took on flesh in the person of Jesus. He came to dwell among us. He walked with us in solidarity, knowing our joys, our sorrows, our trials. And in that solidarity, he walked the entire lonely and dark journey with us, all the way into the absolute darkness of the grave. And then in his resurrection, in the dawning of that Easter morning, we saw that the darkness will be absorbed by in the light that cannot be denied. The same light that was there in the beginning will be there at the end. And it will lead us into a brand new day.
This is what John came to herald. He came to testify to the light that cannot be denied, even in the heart of darkness. We, too, can herald the hope of Christ’s dawning, the power of his enduring love to overcome all things. We are not the light. But, come, let us testify to the light.
