Too Bright to Fail: John 1:1-18 - Fourth Sunday of Advent

My eyes have always been extra sensitive to sunlight. That’s why you’ll nearly always see me wearing sunglasses if I’m doing anything outdoors.

When I worked in retail, my eyes always strained in the sunlight upon leaving the building. Even though the stores weren’t dark, I still felt like I’d been inside a dark movie theater for six, seven, eight hours, as the only daylight came in through the glass doors at the entrance. And that’s by design.

Shopping is intended to be an immersive experience. Stores are designed to draw you into a whole new world of possibilities for a better life and a better you for a price. Windows open to the outside world would only distract you, not to mention taking up valuable wall space needed for display racks.

During the holidays, with the rush of shoppers and the droning of Christmas pop music, the stores felt like pressure cookers. And why not? The shoppers were under pressure to buy for everyone on their list and get to their next destination as quickly as possible. Us employees were under pressure to reach sales quotas and serve the customers as quickly as possible.

That’s why I love the sight of closed businesses on Christmas, especially the chain stores. And it brings me even greater satisfaction to see that some stores have eliminated Thanksgiving hours and midnight sales. Maybe I’m being overly optimistic, but I hope people are realizing that we need to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas more than we need stuff. But this could also be a sign of the hard times many Americans are facing, with rising unemployment and inflation. And what’s happening here and now pales to what the average Jew experienced 2,000 years ago.

Jesus was born a few decades into the fabled Pax Romana, which brought unprecedented peace and stability to the world. For some, it also brought unprecedented power and wealth. But for most, this was an age of struggle and fear. Rome got rich off the backs of the poor. And Rome kept the peace with the threat of brutal violence against anyone who would oppose it. It was in this time that God showed up in human flesh, fulfilling what the prophet Isaiah had spoken six centuries before: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined.”

The opening verses of the Gospel of John herald that this light, which enlightens everyone, has now come into the world.

For John, there’s no baby Jesus, no manger, no shepherds, no magi. Whereas Matthew and Luke celebrate when and how Jesus came, John speaks of why Jesus came, and what it means for us who believe in him. Jesus is the Word Made Flesh, who was God and with God since the very beginning, who is now dwelling with us, bringing light into our darkness and eternal life into our mortality. And to all who believe in his name, he gives power to become children of God who are born of God.  

As I meditated on John’s words, it struck me how often people talk describe near-death experiences as being in a dark tunnel moving towards light. For John, it’s all of us who are in darkness, with the light of Christ shining upon us and drawing us out of our dark places. Unfortunately, not everyone comes towards the light.

There are so many windowless spaces in our world which are illuminated by the bright lights of materialism, the red lights of pleasure, the green lights of money, and all the spotlights we shine upon ourselves. There’s a lot going on in these spaces to keep you inside.

Others, however, enjoy no such delights and dwell amid the shadows of despair. As I’ve been saying all through this Advent, there’s dreadful safety within the darkness of despair, because people can’t see your wounds and vulnerabilities. In the darkness, you are safe from failure, rejection, shame, and other people’s judgment.

But the light still shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overtake it. Christ shines brighter than the artificial lights of this world. Christ shines into your darkness, and your fear and pain cannot block him out. There is grace. There is truth. There is love. There is newness of life. Right here, right now.

The love of God’s people is ironclad proof of this. We see the light in the gifts you give to children you will never meet, and in the urgency by which you reach out to neighbors who are hungry, lonely, and forgotten. What sing the light in the hymns and carols we love so much, particularly out in the cold last Friday. We hear the light in the bells of the Salvation Army Kettle keepers standing outside the supermarket. And we long for the light in our souls, because even the unbeliever knows that there must be more to Christmas than Amazon.com, Mariah Carey, and the Hallmark Channel. Jesus is the reason we celebrate. Jesus is the reason we have hope. Jesus is the reason we love our neighbors.

You are a child of God born of God. You were not made to live in the warehouses of worldly delights or in the shadows of despair. You are the Church. You were not made to keep the Gospel couped up within the walls of this building and the privacy of your own lives. The true light, which enlightens everyone, has come into the world, and shines in you. The darkness, as dreadful and pervasive as it is, will not overcome it. Not now, not tomorrow. Not ever.