The Light of God Arises -- A Meditation for Epiphany

Epiphany Times Three -- Kathrin Burleson

Isaiah 60

When the darkness covers the earth, and we feel hope ebbing away, we are tempted to give up and let fate have its way. Why bother with life? Why try to make things better? One’s enemies lie round about, undermining everything one wishes to do. It is a common feeling. It can permeate a family wrestling with financial crises or medical ones. It could be a church that has experienced continued decline and doesn’t see how it can be a redemptive and transformative presence in the world. It can be a community – large or small – whose best days seem long past, and now the nay-sayers have taken hold, keeping the community from moving forward. When the clouds hang round about us, when we’re unable to see the sun and the stars and the moon, and wonder about the future, we hear a word from the prophet:

Arise, shine; for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.

For darkness shall cover the earth,

and thick darkness the peoples;

but the Lord will arise upon you,

and his glory will appear over you. (Is. 60:1-2)

Today we come to celebrate the Day of Epiphany, the manifestation of the Light that is God, a light that shines our darkness, so that we no longer need to depend on the Sun or on the Moon, but we can trust in God.

This post-exilic prophet speaks to a people who had been scattered and now have received the invitation to return home, they’re lit by the light that is God. There is a bit of triumphalism in this passage, for the vision includes statements about foreigners building up the walls of the city and the nations bringing their wealth to Jerusalem as tribute. It is a common vision for a people who have been suppressed and oppressed, but perhaps we could extend the vision some and instead of seeing the conquerors becoming supplicants, we can see in it a vision of a partnership between peoples. As the Light of God rises in our midst, we can put aside our need either for revenge or for control, but instead engage each other as equals, building a new city, the city of God.

On this Day of Epiphany may we bask in the light that is God. May we allow this light to permeate all the dark corners of our lives, exposing those areas of our existence that keep us from experiencing and expressing the love that is God. And in the end, we will express our trust in the one who says:

I am the Lord;

in its time I will accomplish it quickly. (Isaiah 60:22b).

With Isaiah’s vision in our minds, we turn to remember the one, whom Christians hail as the one who manifests the light and glory of God on earth, Jesus the Christ. May his light shine in our darkness, revealing the love and the grace and the glory that is God. And if we’re willing to receive this light into our lives, may we join together in building a world that is full of light and not darkness, a place where good will and peace reigns over all, and that this peace and this good will shall come not from military might, but through persistent but loving action in pursuit of the justice of God.

Salvation Amidst Suffering -- A Lectionary Meditation for the Sunday after Christmas

Isaiah 63:7-9



Hebrews 2:10-18


Matthew 2:13-23

Salvation Amidst Suffering

As we moved through Advent into Christmas, we focused on the emergence of light into the realm of darkness. Where darkness sought to rule the day, light ultimately won the battle. It is a struggle that is marked by the observance of the Solstice, which while not Christian aspects of this observance have been drawn up into our observance of Christmas. The message of light breaking into the darkness is seen in the greeting given to the Christ child by the Angelic chorus, and we see it in the star that led the Magi to the Christ child. Yes, the message of the season is that a great light is shining into the darkness, and the darkness, though it will try, cannot overwhelm it. Despite the message of the season that we have been blessed by the unconquerable light of God, this doesn’t mean that the darkness has given up without a fight. The one who brings light into the world may have arrived, but the darkness will do all that is necessary to extinguish it.

As a fan of the original Star Wars trilogy, I see this Sunday’s texts, especially the Gospel text, representing the theme of the second film in the series – The Empire Strikes Back. Is that not the message of the text from Matthew? Despite the victory won by the incarnation, when light pushed back at the darkness, the darkness has struck back with a vengeance. This leaves us with a question – shall the empire win? And if not, what resources may we bring to bear to resist the darkness? How will the light prevail? And the answer that these three texts seem to deliver is that this effort will involve suffering. The Incarnate One will suffer, but so will those who are identified with him.

In this set of lectionary readings laid out for the Sunday after Christmas, we find much that requires thought and interpretation. We must wrestle with texts that suggest suffering is the path through which salvation makes it way, and we must also deal with passages that suggest that substitutionary atonement might be part of the deal. There is also the slaughter of the innocents to deal with, along with a passage that emerges from a time of concern about the future, a time when suffering continues to hang over the people. Yes, there is much darkness to contend within these texts – human sin and rebellion and cruelty – a reminder that God’s work of bringing wholeness to our broken world doesn’t come easily. But, there is hope present here in this set of texts. Isaiah 63 reminds us that by God’s presence the people are saved, Hebrews suggests that the one who is incarnate has shared our lives and will wipe away our sins. And despite the attempt on his life, Jesus and family escape so that they may live for another day. Yes, but all of this comes in the midst of suffering.

Let us look more closely at our texts, beginning with the selection from Isaiah. Whereas the two Isaiah texts we most closely connect with Advent and Christmas, Isaiah 7 and 9, come from a much earlier period in Israel’s history, a time when Judah is under pressure from enemies north and south, but it remains intact. This text, three verses that emerge from a much longer poem, comes from either the exile, or more likely from the post-exilic period. There is restoration, but this restoration has not come without difficulties. There is a mixture of emotions in the complete poem, but these three verses that lead us into the discussion of salvation in the midst of suffering, calls on us to offer praise to God. As we go forth to resist the darkness, that is itself resisting the light, we must recognize that we go forth in the presence of the one who brings to bear grace, steadfast love, and mercy. Yes, even as God became their savior in the midst of their distress, and saved them through God’s great love and pity, redeeming them and lifting them and carrying them all their days, while things might look bad, God in God’s faithfulness was there to lift them up and carry them. Do you not hear a bit of the Footprints poem in this text?

The Lord replied, "My precious, precious child. I love you, and I would never, never leave you during your times of trial and suffering.

When you saw only one set of footprints,

It was then that I carried you."

If Isaiah holds out the promise of God’s saving presence and offers words of praise in response, the anonymous sermon that goes by the title of the Letter to the Hebrews speaks of the one who has been tested in all things as we have, and therefore is able to wipe away the sins of the people. The passage begins by reminding us that God had thought it fitting that the “pioneer of their salvation” should be made “perfect through sufferings.” This passage seems to suggest that Christ has died in our stead to take care of sins, but it doesn’t define what that means. Perhaps, then, it is better that we stay clear of atonement theory and instead see Christ as the one who, being the pioneer of our salvation, and having tasted life as we experience it, understands that part of experience is suffering. By going through this experience of suffering, indeed, even going through death itself (thought death isn’t mentioned here) we begin to understand the true message of incarnation. This one who came into the world didn’t just make an appearance, but experienced all that we experience, and due to his embrace of God’s mission, faced inordinate suffering. As a result, he has become for us a merciful and faithful high priest before God, representing us before God and as a result wiping away all our sins. He tasted life in the darkness, and brought light instead – but not without experiencing suffering.

The Gospel lesson for this Sunday after Christmas makes us skip over the story of the Magi, which is reserved for the Day of Epiphany. It is a text that offers a story of salvation, but it also offers the most graphic description of the manner in which darkness resists the light. Here is the story of Herod and the “Slaughter of the Innocents.” Herod is the one who builds the grand Temple in Jerusalem, but whose own sins are so great that he stands among the pantheon of history’s cruelest tyrants. As Matthew tells the story, Herod reenacts the story of Pharaoh’s slaughter of the Hebrew male children, by having his soldiers massacre all the male children two years and younger. In the case of Herod, the malevolent despot fears anyone who would threaten his hold on the throne, even a small and innocent child. Although there isn’t any historical evidence that Herod ordered the slaughter of the male children of Bethlehem, such an action wasn’t beyond the capabilities of this ruler, who had members of his own family killed lest they try to supplant him. Yes, because he was cruel and sadistic, such an act represents well his personality. And he does stand forth as a symbol of the empire of darkness.

In this story, the child who would be a threat to his throne escapes due to an angelic vision. A father has a dream, and as a result, takes his family to safety in Egypt, reversing the trip the Hebrews took from slavery in Egypt to the freedom of the Promised Land. Isn’t it ironic that the land of light had become a place of darkness?

And the message here? Could it be that the mission of God often comes with a cost to those involved? In this story, the suffering comes not to the one through whom the darkness is defeated, but those near him. We call this collateral damage. Why, we ask, must this be so?

Perhaps the answer to the question of why suffering is part of the story is that darkness will not allow the light to take root without a struggle that leads to suffering. Yes, the darkness will not give up easily. Jesus may have, according to Matthew, survived this first onslaught of darkness unscathed, but as we continue reading, we’ll discover that darkness, and with it suffering, will not go away without a fight. Yes, even as Rachel weeps for her children, a day will come when Mary will weep for her child. But, darkness will not have the last word. Christmas marks the beginning, but a full orbed gospel includes Good Friday and Easter. There is joy and there is sadness. There is victory and seeming defeat. But the reality here is that in the end, the God who comes to us not with violence, but with peace, will bring us healing and salvation.

Healing for the Nations -- Sermon

Revelation 21:22-22:5

    In The Last Battle, the final volume of The Chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis picks up on an important theme in Revelation.  Like the author of Revelation, Lewis describes evil as a consuming power that lives off pain, suffering, and destruction.  In this story, an imposter poses as Aslan, and speaks to the people of Narnia who long to hear Aslan’s voice.  The imposter is controlled by the Calormenes, a rival nation that serves the evil god Tash.  The Calormenes want to control Narnia and so they exploit the Narnians’ longing for Aslan.  Jill and Eustace, two travelers from our world, help expose the imposter, but not before Narnia is destroyed.  There is great sadness in this book, but there is also good news.  That is because Narnia gives way to a new creation, the land of Aslan, into which those who are faithful to Aslan are invited to enter.   Like Revelation, The Last Battle describes what theologians call eschatology.

    What is interesting about Lewis’ story is that he offers a rather inclusive vision of the future.   You see, it’s not just the Narnians who get to enter this new world of Aslan.  Both Ermeth, a Calormene warrior, and Puzzle the donkey, who in his innocence allowed himself to be used as the fake Aslan, are invited into this new world.  In Lewis’ mind, God has a much more inclusive understanding of reality than we do many of us.    

    Before we can get to the vision that the author of Revelation and Lewis offer us, we must first recognize that there are a multitude of voices calling out to us, not all of which are wholesome and life giving.  Sometimes, when we feel uncertain and afraid, we allow ourselves to listen to voices that claim to be godly, but are not.  We live in a world where evil resists the justice and mercy of God.  Nation rises against nation, people against people, family against family, neighbor against neighbor.  Out of fear, we seek safety and security in ever tighter groups, making us susceptible to a message of “us against them.”   Iraq, Afghanistan, Zimbabwe, Darfur, Israel/Palestine, Sudan, Somalia, Mexico, and the Congo are all torn apart by tribal, ethnic, or religious strife, but they’re not alone.  We see it here in our own communities, where nativism – just to name one example – is on the rise. 

    In our text this morning we hear a word that exposes the darkness that is present in our midst, and welcomes us into the light.  It is a message of healing – not just for individuals, but for the nations.  I know this doesn’t sound much like a Mother’s Day sermon, but I think there is a connection.   You’ll just have to wait and see!

1.   A LIGHT IN THE WORLD

    The promise of Revelation is that no matter what happens God is present with us.  It’s in this promise of God’s resolve that we find  hope, and this morning we hear the promise that healing will be given to the nations who make their way into the New Jerusalem, where God and his Lamb serve as both Temple and Light.  

    In this passage, the symbol of evil is the darkness that seeks to extinguish the light, for if the light can be extinguished then the people will be lost.    But no matter how encompassing the darkness might be, we hear the promise that the light of God will continue to shine into the darkness.  Therefore, there is no need to fear.   In fact, In this vision of God’s new creation, there’s no need for walls or gates, for that which is evil has no place in this new creation.  That which is unclean and false – whether it be hatred or anger, self-centeredness or rebellion, shall be burned away in the refiner’s fire.     
  
2.  GOD'S HEALING PRESENCE

    The vision moves from the light that shines into our darkness, to the healing waters of the river of life that winds its way through the city.  Along this river stands the Tree of Life.  The leaves of this Edenic Tree, which is sustained by the River of Life,  provides healing to the nations, even as the leaves of an aloevera plant brings healing to our bodies.  These leavers are a salve to the wounds brought on by human strife.

    Now these nations aren’t just political entities, for the Greek word ta ethne, which  gives us the word ethnic, speaks of every group, tribe, and race that inhabits this world of ours.  Yes, everyone is invited to experience healing in the city of God.   As Paul suggests in Galatians, in Christ “there is now neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free” (Gal. 3:28).  Our physical distinctions may not be erased in the kingdom, but these distinctions will no longer decide our place or our relationships, for in Christ we have all been made one body.  Therefore, there are no second class citizens in the kingdom of God. 

3.  TOWARD THE HEALING OF THE NATIONS

    The words "the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations" (22:2) can be found in Ezekiel (Ezk. 47:12) as well as here in Revelation, and as I consider these words I think about our cities and our neighborhoods, which often are ethnic powder kegs, ready to blow at any time.  We know about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but what about the walls that divide us here in Southeast Michigan?   I’ve been told many times about the invisible wall that divides Detroit from Oakland County.

    When we read a text like this, it’s easy to assume that God will make everything right on the far side of eternity.  But, what if the new creation, the new Jerusalem has implications for life in the here and now?  If the kingdom of God is already present in our midst, initiated by Jesus in his life, his death, and his resurrection, how might we participate in God’s work of transformation?  How might we be part of the solution?

    The text speaks of the waters of life and the Tree of Life, which offer healing to the nations.  If we can move beyond seeing nations as political entities and see this as describing tribes and families and groups, then perhaps we can better grasp what God is calling us to do.  We live decades after the Civil Rights era, but many of us still live in self-imposed ghettos and enclaves, where suspicion, jealousy, and even hatred are present: African, Korean, Arab, Persian, Latino, Native American, Chinese, Vietnamese, Hmong, Anglo, Indian, Jewish, Romanian, and on and on.  Color, language, and culture remain divisive.  Many of us fall prey to fear of the other.  And often, as illustrated in Lewis’s book, this fear breaks out into violence. 

    We may feel overwhelmed by the news, but there is a word of hope in this passage of Scripture.  The church has been called to serve as agents of healing and reconciliation.  God desires to use us to pour out the living water into the world, so that the dry lands might once again bear fruit.    In our discussions over the last year or so, using the Unbinding the Gospel materials, we talked about prayer and faith sharing.  As the living waters take hold in our lives, we are freed to speak and live God’s healing presence in a broken and hurting world. 

    Consider what Martin Luther King told moderate Southern whites many years ago.  He said that the greatest tragedy of the Civil Rights era wasn’t the "strident clamor of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people."   Indeed he wrote: 

    No social advance rolls in on the wheels of inevitability.  Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals. [Martin Luther King quoted in And Don't Call Me a Racist!  9th edition, (Argonaut Press, 1998), 141].

    And so how does this call to join in the work of bringing healing to the nations fit into our Mother’s Day celebration?  Well, before Mother’s Day was a big consumer bash, Julia Ward Howe, the author of the “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” made a proclamation that  called on women to honor mothers by becoming peacemakers.  Writing in the aftermath of the Civil War and the Franco-Prussian War, she called for an end to the seemingly endless conflicts and wars that plagued the world.  She called on the women of the world to rise up and bring healing to the nations, declaring:

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace. 

There is a connection between Revelation and Mother’s Day, and it is found in this call to bring peace and healing to the nations.    May we all heed this call to be agents of healing in the world! 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, Michigan

May 9, 2010

Sixth Sunday of Easter