John 1:6-8,19-28

The Third Sunday in Advent | December 17, 2023 | John 1:6-8,19-28 | Ryan D. Mills |

⁶There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. ⁷He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. ⁸He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.
¹⁹This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” ²⁰He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, “I am not the Messiah.” ²¹And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” He answered, “No.” ²²Then they said to him, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” ²³He said,
“I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness,
‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ ”
as the prophet Isaiah said.
²⁴Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. ²⁵They asked him, “Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?” ²⁶John answered them, “I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, ²⁷the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” ²⁸This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing (John 1:6-8,19-28, NRSV).

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

On Sunday night many of us weathered the incredible wind and rains that hit the East Coast, drenching everything and causing many people to lose their power.  And I was reminded of a similar storm, during another Advent, when our family sat down to dinner one night, lighting the candles on our Advent wreath. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, the whole house went dark. Everybody froze and our girls shrieked and started crying. I stumbled down to the electrical panel to check out the circuit breakers, but there was no luck there, and as we looked out the window we couldn’t see one light in the neighborhood. So we gathered around the three little candles burning on our Advent wreath, lit a fire in the fireplace, and read a book out loud. I was reminded of the account of one of our members who weathered the weeks-long power outages from Superstorm Sandy all those years ago: “Every night, the house is dark, I sit in my chair with a flashlight hanging down, and the dogs and I all huddle together under that one small circle of light.”

So much is our fear of the darkness, so much is our hunger for the light, that without that one little flashlight, that one burning candle, life seems impossible!  Indeed, as we look at our world, as we look at the streets of our City, as we consider our own lives, it’s hard not feel overwhelmed by the darkness.

But today, on this 3^rd Sunday of Advent, our gospel lesson tells us about John the Baptist: “There was a man, sent from God, whose name was John.  He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him.”

There was a man from God, whose name was John, he came to testify to the light.  John comes from God to direct people to the light, to point to the light, to focus everything upon the one who is the True Light, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Jesus will claim about himself in John’s Gospel that, “I am the Light of the World, whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but have the light of life.”  And that’s amazing, that’s beautiful, that Jesus compares himself to light, light which attracts even moths, but also attracts, lures, entices, welcomes us, light which allows us to see, light that in its purity and mystery is not affected even by a universe of darkness.

Once when I was a kid my family stopped at one of those tourist trap underground caves, we put on coveralls and took an elevator down deep into a beautifully lit cave with all those stalactites and stalagmites hanging down and pointing up, and at one point in the tour, the guide turned the electric lights off, and there we were.  Not in darkness, but in whatever is darker than darkness.  Forget seeing your hand in front of you—you start to wonder if anything exists at all, maybe you yourself have disappeared!

And sometimes, that’s the way the darkness can feel to us.  Not just the inconvenience of electric lights being off, but of a darkness that tries to smother us, to cover us up, to erase us.  Maybe it’s our own regrets, or the power of our chronic sins that has brought the darkness to us this season.  Maybe it’s the longing for family or loved ones who we’re far from or, who have gone on and left us.  Maybe it’s our own sense that our life, our culture, our country, our world, our old normal is in twilight, growing ever darker and there’s no real future, no morning in sight.  But it’s into this very darkness that the last verse we sang today from ‘O Come, O Come, Emmanuel’ cries out in prayer: “O Come, blest dayspring, come and cheer, our spirits by your advent here, disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight.”

But the song doesn’t end there, does it? “Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to you, O Israel.”  Rejoice, even in the darkness, for the light is coming, the one who is the Light is coming, and he comes even now.  Christ the true light comes, and the darkness of our loneliness is replaced by the fellowship we have with him under his light.  Christ the true light comes, and the shadow of sin, that murky power is cast away, burning off like fog in the morning sun.  Christ the true light comes, shining on things in our lives we’d rather not see, and yet now we can see them, now we can see how to live in the light.  Christ the true light comes, and our sense of meaninglessness, that nothing matters anymore, is replaced by the meaning and purpose of a world that belongs ultimately to God, who has a real and holy calling for each and every one of us to serve him by serving our neighbors.  Christ the true light comes, shining in your darkness: he was born into a dark stable, he died on the Cross as the sun’s light failed, and when he comes one last time in glory and power every eye shall see him, and we shall live with him forever in that place that is pure, uncreated light, where there is no more darkness, no more crying or pain, only the comfort of the light of his face forever.

And when that light shines, all we can do is run to it, invite others into it, bask beneath it.  When the true light, Jesus Christ, came into the world, all John did was point to it, he testified to the light, and called the people to live lives of justice and love towards their neighbors, to live like the light had come.  The Chief Priests and all the religious folks asked John over and over who he was, they wanted to know if he was the light, and John just kept saying “no”, “this isn’t about me”, “I am not the answer you’re looking for.” ‘He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.’

Maybe when that question is asked of us as Christians, “Who are you?” we need to be like John, and say: “No”, “it’s not about me” “we’re not the answer you’re looking for”; but we have found the light, or it has found us and has shone upon us, and upon this whole world God so loves, and all we care about is pointing to the light, and inviting folks to live in it. When all the lights are out on your street, and you have a generator, don’t you invite people to come at least charge up their stuff, even if you’ve just found a flashlight or some matches, it’s something to rejoice in, light in the midst of the darkness, light that cannot be put out, light that promises to shine into every dark nook and cranny of our life, casting out what needs casting out, and bringing healing and life and joy to all that it touches.

On Monday I was invited by a rabbi friend to join him on the Green in New Haven after someone had desecrated the Menorah that is there to mark the nights of Hannukah. I was proud to represent our church and to stand in solidarity with my friend and our neighbors. One of the Rabbis there said that in the face of the world’s hatred, his answer is to “Be a menorah, and light your candle.” So I challenge you similarly this morning to let the candle of your life shine brightly, find a way to point to the light this season, like John you are not the light, but you can point to the True Light and let him shine through you! So do something for someone they can’t do for themselves, send a note or a card that you wouldn’t do in another year, invite a friend to join us here on Christmas Eve, make a connection you ordinarily wouldn’t – you don’t have to convince anybody of anything, or shove anything down anyone’s throat, just find a way to point away from yourself and towards the light.

When my family and I sat in that dark underground cave, and the lights finally turned back on, everyone gasped – gasped in relief and joy that the light had come.  Be relived this season, rejoice this morning – the true light is real, Jesus Christ the Son of God, light from light, he comes now, shining into your darkness.  And by the light of his Holy Spirit, by that candle, that fire given to each one of us in baptism, he shares the brightness of his light with all who gather under him.

So Come blest dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by your Advent here.  And: Rejoice rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to you O Israel.    

And the Peace of God which passes all understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

—

The Rev. Dr. Ryan Mills

New Haven, Connecticut

Pastor@TrinityLutheranNH.org