Advent 3 B + A Glimmer of Light + ACL + 12.17.23
A Glimmer of Light
Isaiah 61, John 1, Psalm
126
St Paul’s Emmanuel, Santa Paula and
All Santos, Oxnard (12/17/23)
The Rev. Alene Campbell-Langdell (preached by MCL in Oxnard)
In his book, It’s Not You, It’s
Everything, Baptist pastor turned psychotherapist, Eric Minton, tells the
story of an interaction with his young son.
As Eric read the story of Jesus’ walking on water to his 4-year-old, his
son stopped him to ask, “Dad, is this story true?” Eric describes his internal anxiety as his
mind rushes through the possible answers informed by years of seminary studies. He writes, “I started to sweat and began
stammering some sort of answer involving the ways that ancient Near Eastern
hagiography would sometimes embellish parts of an important person’s life story
to make them more memorable for later listeners.” As you can imagine, this did not satisfy the
4 year old’s question! Then Eric says,
“I stopped talking and asked my son, ‘I don’t know, man, what do you
think?’” And Eric continues, “Without
blinking, he looked up at me and said, ‘Dad, I want it to be true.’” And Eric notes that in that moment he found
himself wiping his eyes “in the presence and possibility of a God that [he]
actually wanted to believe in…”[1]
Our third stop on this year’s journey
towards the mystery of Christmas echoes with prophetic longing. We find ourselves on the banks of a
river. A crowd has gathered around a
lone figure. Other gospels add
fascinating details about this man’s clothing, camel’s hair, and his food,
locusts and wild honey, but in this image the focus is not on what he looks
like. He is being questioned by the
religious authorities who want to know who he thinks he is and what gives him
the right to say and do the things he’s saying and doing.
John is introduced by the writer of
this gospel as one who has been sent to help others believe. After a series of back and forth denials, John
answers the question, “What do you say about yourself?” with this somewhat
enigmatic answer, “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness…” (John
1:23). For the religious leaders who
came to question him, this makes no sense.
John doesn’t fit any of the categories they have been taught to expect
from a prophetic figure. He is not the
Messiah, or a prophet/leader like Moses.
Instead, he is the voice of those who cry out in the wilderness of our
lives, longing to believe. “Dad, I want
it to be true.”
Karoline Lewis, commenting on this passage in John, writes,
“John’s first declaration of the incarnation, that the light
of the world is continually shining when darkness should prevail, speaks to a
fundamental need for light. Before there
is the Word made flesh, there is the promise that in the midst of all of the
darkness of humanity, now light will shine.”
Lewis
continues by describing the experience of being in a cave where no light ever
enters,
“It is a reminder of that oft-forgotten fact that without
light, even the smallest speck of light, our eyes will never adjust to the
darkness. We could be down in that cave five minutes, five hours, five years
and still never see our hands in front of our faces. The smallest amount of light would eventually
make our eyes adjust and be able to see.”[2]
In the darkness and wilderness of our lives, John’s voice
crying out on our behalf is the glimmer of light we need in order to see, to
reawaken hope. What if this impossible
story of God bridging impossible odds to come to us as a baby is true? “Dad, I want it to be true.” I need it to be true.
The Psalmist expresses this longing
for the miracles of the past to be seen in the present. Reflecting that God “restored the fortunes of
Zion,” the Psalmist then prays for God to “restore our fortunes.” There are hints that maybe the past was not
as great as the stories. There is a need
for tears, which then water the seeds of new life. But in this prayer for restoration, past and
future meet. The remembered laughter
mingles with tears and produces a harvest of something new. In the passage from Isaiah, the prophet
speaks to those who are mourning. He
says he has been sent to “bind up the brokenhearted,” “to comfort all who
mourn,” “to provide for those who mourn, “to give the oil of gladness instead
of mourning.” And at the end of this
passage, God is likened to a fertile garden.
Righteousness and praise spring up from seeds sown in the darkness of
the soil. The seed has been buried. There is no way to know that it is there or
what shape it will take when it comes up.
Yet, we trust that the ground holding our past and future together is
good and nurturing. That the seed will
grow.
Phil Rickman captures a bit of the
mystery of this time of year, of the longing and hope, in his book, “All of a
Winter’s Night.” One of the characters,
Lol Robinson, learns to dance in order to take part in a celebration of a
glimmer of light in the darkest night of the year. As he does so, he also writes a song and the
lyrics go like this:
The old year’s hanging on a rusting
hinge
Kids in the city on a drinking binge
And no one hears the ancient engines
Grinding underground
And it takes all of a winter’s night
To change the chords and put things right
And it takes all of a winter’s night
To dance the darkness down[3]
Advent is the time to join the
dance. To catch a glimmer of light in
baptism and Eucharistic bread, to trust that there is life springing up from
the sorrows of our lives, to hope once again for a glimpse of the baby who
bridged the impossible divide between humans and God, to hear in the wilderness
a voice calling out to us and for us, “Make straight in the desert a highway
for our God” (Isaiah 40:3).
[1][1][1]
Eric Minton (2022). It’s Not You, It’s Everything: What our pain reveals about
the anxious pursuit of the good life. (Broadleaf Books: Minneapolis, MN),
128-129.
[2]
Karoline Lewis (2011). “Commentary on
John 1:6-8, 19-28” (Published Dec 11, 2011 by WorkingPreacher.org). Available online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-of-advent-2/commentary-on-john-16-8-19-28
[3] Phil
Rickman (2017). All of a Winter’s Night (Kindle version published in
Great Britain by Corvus, Atlantic Books).
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