The Herald Of Light

December 13, 2020

Hope Lutheran Church

Isaiah 61:1-4; John 1:6-8, 19-28

The Herald of Light

Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.

We’re well into the season of Advent now. This brief season uses the beloved ritual of lighting candles on the Advent wreath. Each week we progressively light more candles. As the season advances, the intensity of the light strengthens. And with the increasing light, so grows our anticipation.

For Christians in the northern hemisphere of our globe, Advent falls as our days gradually grow shorter. Today, the sun will rise above the horizon for a brief 8 hours, 48 minutes. And in eight days we’ll mark our winter solstice, the shortest day of the year.

The mood of Advent is filled with hope. Advent is all about looking forward, looking forward to the actions of God in our midst. These lights we kindle now build that hope. They focus our attention on the coming of the eternal light of heaven – our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the light no darkness can overcome. That light made its entrance into our midst at Christ’s nativity.

We hear today the story of John the Baptist. The gospel writer, John, says this about John the Baptist: “He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.”

John came as a witness to the light. He was the Herald of the Light. And gospel writer John goes to pains to make a critical distinction, lest we should be confused about John: “He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.” He wants to be very clear: John is not the main event! John is not the light which no darkness can overcome – no, he’s pointing to that great light.

It seems that John caused quite a stir, out there in the wilderness country of Judea. People flocked to see him. So the temple priests sent a delegation to check on John. “Why are you doing these things out here? Who exactly are you, to do these things?”

John answers them in the negative. “I am NOT the Messiah.” He is not Elijah or another prophet, either. John wants to be very clear about his role. John is a herald. He bears witness to the coming light.

John reminds me of the baseball player who points to heaven after hitting a home run. Or the Oscar winning actor who gives thanks to God during their acceptance speech. They point away from themselves and focus on the divine power that blesses them day by day.

This is the point John wants to make. He is not the light! There is something oh, so much brighter than he! THAT is what we need to set our eyes on. THAT is his hope, and our hope! John comes to us every year as a herald to the light of the world.

Every four years the world comes together to participate in the Olympic games. Sadly, those summer games scheduled for this year had to be postponed – fingers crossed – until next summer because of COVID-19. Prior to the beginning of the games, an exciting ritual takes place. The Olympic flame, lit in Greece, is brought to the host country. And then a series of torch bearers relay the flame to the central arena. They pass along the flame from torch to torch. That flame makes its way across the land until it reaches the host city arena. And there, the Olympic cauldron is lit.

These runners are bearers of that Olympic flame. It progresses from place to place as each runner carries it along. As we worship today, we can look to the many generations of believers who have carried the faith in Jesus Christ, the light of the world, all the way to us. They have carried along the torch of faith until their witness has been passed along to us. What a privilege to be heralds of this light!

I’m reminded of a story I read many years ago in a book by Robert Fulghum, "It Was on Fire When I Laid Down on It." Fulghum tells of when he attended a seminar on the Greek island of Crete. The seminar was led by an Eastern Orthodox priest and philosopher by the name of Alexander Papaderos. Papaderos had grown up on Crete during World War II. The island had been invaded by the Nazis. The Nazis treated the inhabitants of Crete with harsh cruelty. As a result of experiencing such inhumanity, Papaderos had resolved to promote peace and understanding between peoples. His institute on Crete was the vehicle through which he accomplished this.

At the end of the two-week seminar, Papaderos asked the class, “Are there any questions?” Fulghum raised his hand. He asked, “What is the meaning of life?” The classroom tittered in laughter. But Papaderos lifted up his hand to quiet them.