Advent I - Peace Isaiah 2:1-5
The season of Advent comes upon us year after year, and most every year we sing and pray and read about darkness and the dawning of light. You know the texts:
"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Those who dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined."
"Arise! Shine! For your light is come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you."
"Thy sun shall no more go down; neither shall thy moon withdraw itself: for the LORD shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended."
"And you, child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High . . .The dayspring from on high has visited us, To give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."
The Advent message is all about waiting with great anticipation for the coming of Christ among us again . . . the Light that shatters our darkness and brings us Advent’s Big Four: Peace, Hope, Joy, and Love. Peace, of course, comes on the first Advent Sunday, followed by Hope, then Joy (complete with its own pink candle); and finally Love when the long-expected Christ-baby is finally born. Right on cue! Right on time! Choreographed perfectly with our candle lightings and our carefully selected readings and hymns! By the time we light the glorious Christ candle, we should be fully enlightened . . . our darkness dispelled. And it will then be said of us: "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Those who had dwelled in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined."
So be here on Advent’s fourth Sunday ready to celebrate, because on that day, the preacher will declare the darkness dispelled from your life! And the preacher will call you to recognize the light that has dawned upon you with the glorious bidding to:
"Arise! Shine! For your light is come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you."
I wish it were that easy. I wish that just declaring it made it so. I wish that with four powerful Advent sermons, scripture readings, hymns and carols, and lighting Advent candles, we could shatter the darkness that covers our lives. But even the most elaborate Advent season, held in magnificent cathedrals to enormous super churches, will not necessarily bathe us with the glorious light of salvation that will end the darkness that surrounds us. After all the Advent festivities are ended and the glorious harmonies of the hymns are silenced, we will still face the fragileness of our relationships, the disappointments of our lives, the turmoil of our existence, and the fears . . . all the fears that life heaps upon us.
Fortunately, today is only one day of Advent - the first day - and we don’t have to get the full measure of glorious salvation in one Advent Sunday. All we have to take with us for this day is peace. Ironically, the first step in reaching a place of peace is comprehending the darkness . . . knowing the darkness intimately, up close and personal.
You are probably thinking that this is not a problem, that you know about darkness all too well, and that life circumstances have been all the “teacher” you could ever need. You KNOW about the reality of walking in darkness. But have you honestly questioned your personal darkness?
In contemplating my own quest for the peace that comes when my darkness is shattered, I discovered that I have asked only one question in my dark times. I have asked only “why?”
“Why has this darkness come upon me?”
Just “Why?”
And that has never been enough . . . not enough to dispel my darkness, and not even enough to make any sense of it. The “whys” were futile questions, unproductive, never satisfying my own longings for peace, never resolving my personal sense of powerlessness, never providing any comfort, never changing anything at all.
The only way the “whys” could ever begin to make a difference is when the “whys” sought truth about my situation, and about my self. And so our questioning must take on some substance, and a genuine desire for increased awareness. Instead of simply “why” we need to ask questions that can open us up to receiving some real answers.
"Why is my darkness so deep? Why does it come back again and again?"
Can you see how answering those two questions might reveal something about myself? Something about my own vulnerabilities and fears? Something about my ability to be self-destructive? Something about my tendency to remain in a place of despondency? Something about why I keep repeating the same actions that harm me? Something about my fears? Something perhaps about my way of creating my own forms of inner conflict? Something that makes my inner peace an elusive dream and never a reality?
When Isaiah spoke of walking in the light of the Lord, he was not referring to the darkness of foreign enemies and the light of God’s awaited reign. Isaiah was much more concerned with the deeper, internal darkness that threatens the human soul. To appreciate the brightness of the dawn, Isaiah might say, one must understand the darkness, even experience the depth of it personally.
I wonder just how well we really understand darkness? Of course, we understand, all too well, the darkness of the gods of our day: power, success, greed, control, self-obsession, violence. Societal darkness is easily observed. But what is much harder for us to see is the darkness that dwells within us, the soul’s darkness . . .the form of darkness that is so personally destructive. That is the form of darkness we have so much trouble understanding. It’s insidious and dangerous. It destroys us from the inside out and leaves deep, hidden wounds that are very hard to heal.
Lights made by human hands can never touch this kind of soul darkness. Starlight, moonlight, sunlight . . . even God-created cannot dispell the darkness of the soul. Deep inside ourselves, in the most honest of places, in our heart of hearts, we know that darkness of the soul is persistent, relentless, destructive.
"Why is it so deep? And why does it come back again and again?" Two questions that we must ask if we want to know the peace that comes when the darkness within us is dispelled. But we must ask a third question, one final question to ask of the darkness:
What is the source of the light that can shatter this kind of soul darkness?
The sermon could end on a high and lofty note right here with one great declaration, like maybe: "The dayspring from on high hath visited us, to give light to those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."
But that’s too simple! Such a declaration can be to us just words, empty words, words that have no power to change anything about our lives.
One thing I remember about living in Africa is that on the equator, the sun does not set gradually. In Africa, you don’t sit and watch the sunset. It happens without warning. In Africa, one never says, “It’s getting dark.” Being close to the equator gives new meaning to the phrase, “Night fell.” But there’s something else about being near the equator. In the same way that night instantly falls, dawn also comes with very little warning. The sky doesn’t begin to brighten right before dawn while you gradually watch the sun rise. The sun fairly leaps up at you, right out of the darkness.
I think that’s how God’s dawn breaks upon us. We’re right in the midst of the darkness . . . life is as dark as it has ever been . . . inside we feel a darkness as deep as a thousand midnights. And suddenly, there is a word, a friend, a scripture, a feeling, a sense . . . something almost miraculous that reaches into the depths of our soul with warmth and light. And it is peace.
So what do we do with Isaiah’s words about swords and spears and not learning war anymore? What has that to do with all this darkness stuff?
Just this: When a man beats his sword into a plowshare or a woman beats her spear into a pruning hook . . . when a person refuses to lift up a sword of violence against another person . . . when a person refuses to learn war anymore, it is not because of a sudden personal conviction or an act of the will. Men and women cease their external - and internal – warring only when the light of peace leaps up within them, right out of the darkness of the soul.
After all the striving and praying and agonizing, the truth is that somehow, in a way we cannot begin to understand, the dayspring from on high DOES visit us,
bringing light when we are immersed in the depths of our personal darkness,
bringing light when we walk through the darkness of the shadow of death, and guiding our feet into the way of peace.
May we take this promise with us through the days of Advent.
