Christmas I (B) + Light and dark + 12.31.17
M. Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
(Isaiah 61:10–62:3; Ps. 147; Galatians
3:23–25; 4:4–7; John 1:1–18)
“What has come into being in him was life, and the life was
the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did
not overcome it (John 1:3b-5).”
“I want to walk as a child of the light
I want to follow
Jesus
God sent the stars to give light to the world
The star of my life is Jesus.”[1]
In this dark time of year we often
look for glimmers of light. The shining Christmas lights that are now being
taken down. The lengthening days.
And this is important. Many of us find Christmas and the holidays to be a hard time and we need what light we can find.
And this is important. Many of us find Christmas and the holidays to be a hard time and we need what light we can find.
But a shadow side of all this talk
of light and darkness is the problematic way that light and dark are a part of
our national dialog. Quiet dark in the winter can be a time and space for
reflection. And we know from such works as St John of the Cross’ Dark Night of the Soul that it is
precisely in those moments of darkness, when
we feel we know the least about God, when God may be best able to speak to us.
But even more so, living in the
United States of today I am aware about how light and dark, black and white
often reflect overtones of race relations. White is good and brown and black
are considered bad or evil or dirty. Of course many of us do not think of this
when we sing “I want to walk as a child of the light.” But we may or may not be
aware that our culture sometimes reads this language as reinforcing white
goodness to the detriment of other skin tones.
In our neighboring town of Ventura,
the Rev. Nicole Janelle and her husband Dr. Jake Donaldson had to put an
editorial note in the paper this Friday because multiple times they have had a
“Black Lives Matter” sign stolen from their yard. Once someone even put a
“White Lives Matter” sticker on their car. In laid-back Ventura! Hardly a
hotbed of the alt-right that I know of. But this points up to me an ongoing
need in our nation. A need to be aware of how others are still being treated. Perhaps
some of our brothers and sisters here at All Santos. Of how insidiously
tenacious many ideas of white superiority are. In their letter to the editor, I
found one statement by Nicole and Jake to be particularly telling. About the
Black Lives Matter sign, they said, “Furthermore, to assume there is a
parenthetical ‘only’ instead of ‘also’ in front of such a statement is in
itself a racist assumption.”[2]
At this time of year we may think
about our resolutions for 2018. How we will get back on the treadmill or out
walking. About how we will cook more vegetables. And pray more. And worry less.
And get tidy. And those can be great. We sometimes need these times for
personal goal-setting and re-adjustment.
But as Christians we are called to
something greater, together.
Today’s scripture from Isaiah says:
“For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not
rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a
burning torch (Isaiah 62:1).” For Zion’s sake, for the people of God’s sake, we
cannot keep silent. If injustice still smolders in our world, and we know it
does, we must light the torch of God’s salvation.
So how do we do that? Author
Jennifer Harvey suggests in her book Dear
White Christians that white Christians have attempted to participate in
reconciliation for too long, and that has not helped us work towards true
equality in our country. She says that the white leaders of the church did not fully
respond to the Black Manifesto, a call from the black church leadership of the
1960s, which would have required those of us of European extraction to fully
own our predecessors’ complicity in the slave trade and subsequent racist practices
in the US. Harvey further implies that attempts at reconciliation are kind of
like skipping to forgiveness without full repentance (my words not hers).
Instead she suggests that we move to a reparations paradigm. Her focus is not predominantly about giving
everyone material or financial reparations so much as being repairers of the
breach, another theme of Isaiah.[3]
I know that we are a diverse church, not
all the white Christians to whom she speaks, but I think that actually gives us
a leg up in engaging her question. She asks how can we be present in our
communities, to the needs present here, to bring about equity and so that all
Zion would feel God’s justice here in Oxnard? I know that this congregation has
already done a lot of work in this regard, but it continues to be needed both
in the wider church and in the world.
“Clear sun of righteousness, shine on my path
And show me the way to the Father”[4]
How do we allow God’s light to
shine on us so that we avoid set light-dark categorizations but see the light
in each other’s hearts? There are so many ways. One way will be this Lent when
we have an opportunity to participate in a “Lenten Caravan” with several
churches in our area, including some historically black churches. We will spend
the seven weeks at different locations and trading preachers and choirs or
musical offerings. The objective is not so much overtly to repair race
relations as to be Christians together this Lent. But I think we can
participate in this invitation with gusto, thereby showing we want to do both.
Additionally, we may look for other
ways we as a faith community can stand with the afflicted in so many ways.
Showing that black lives matter. Showing that immigrant lives matter. Showing
that homeless lives matter. And that everyone who walks in this door could be
Jesus in disguise.
Our society has not yet found a way
to heal itself. Because some sin is so deep that we need God’s help to repair
the breach. But the good news is that a light has shone in the darkness of our
hearts. God dwells with us. God has pitched her tent with us for precisely this
reason. To help make the world a bit more loving, more kind.
In the holy darkness of this turning of the year, may we see the promise, and know that God is with us; with Zion “until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch” (Isaiah 62:1b) and beyond. Amen.
In the holy darkness of this turning of the year, may we see the promise, and know that God is with us; with Zion “until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch” (Isaiah 62:1b) and beyond. Amen.
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