Testify To The Light
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Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Canticle 15—Magnificat
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
John 1:6-8,19-28
We put our Christmas tree up yesterday.
In our small apartment, a large, fresh tree doesn’t make sense. So, we use a little artificial tree. Right now, it’s standing in the corner, naked, waiting for the tinsel, the ornaments, the star, and, of course, the lights.
This time of year, Christmas lights are everywhere. Houses, windows, trees-they all are covered in the twinkling glow of the effervescent Christmas light. These tears of light provide a warm glow in the long, dark nights of winter.
The lights in the dark give us comfort, a reminder that the dark isn’t the end, that night doesn’t have the final word even as we feel the pressure of darkness and fear wanting to crush us.
And there is so much dark that wants to crush us. War and violence. Exclusion and oppression. Poverty and plague. We can name these things specifically, give them shape, make them real because they are so real.
People are suffering all around us. Even those nostalgic feelings we get from Christmas lights in the dark can be trauma triggers for some people. The world is not an easy place to live.
We live in the toil of the soil that was promised to Adam and Eve as they were expelled from Eden. We live in a world of broken power structures and systemic sin. We live in a world of wounded people who wound others. We live in the dark.
Advent begins the church year, and the church year begins in the dark. Our days are long and cold, night rules most of our 24 hours. There is physical darkness around us, as well as the darkness of fear. Will we have enough money to pay the power bill as well as celebrate Christmas? Will the tires hold us another winter? Will we have food on the table all month long? Will my health last through another flu season in a global pandemic? Will I be excluded from my family over my identity, my gender, my sexuality? Will the political environment keep getting worse and worse, driving our nation apart? Will my marriage survive? Will my child be safe?
These are some of the fears we carry in us. We carry the darkness in us, with us, close to us. In the cave of our chests, heavy with anxiety, there is doubt and fear. We feel it closing in on us because we carry it with us. There is no denying the darkness around us, as well as the pitch black within each of us. We don’t speak of it often because we want to ignore it, but it remains. We don’t acknowledge it, covering over our anxieties with work, busyness, holiday cheer, food, drugs, alcohol. We hide from what is within because we cannot even handle what is outside us. We are surrounded, closed in, flanked at every turn.
It feels, looks, and is bleak.
But Jesus.
Jesus doesn’t come and fix our all our problems. Jesus doesn’t come and make everything a fairytale ending. Jesus doesn’t come and take away the fear, the doubt, the worry, and the anxiety. The world is still a mess. We are still a mess. Jesus doesn’t magically wave a hand and put everything back together.
Jesus does, however, shine.
Jesus comes to us, sits with us, remains steadfastly there beside us. Jesus illuminates us, shows us what we have been hiding, what we fear. That sounds awful, but the truth is unless we face it, deal with our fear, move through our fear, it will dominate and enslave us. Jesus comes to show us the way out of our chains of anxiety. The way out is through. The way out is embracing the truth. The way out is calling bullshit on the things that entrap us in fear and worry, seeing them for what they are, and moving forward anyway. It’s bravery and courage, and Jesus is there not just to cheer us on, but he is there to walk with us into bravery.
He is the light, and his light enlightens everyone. In the light of Christ, we see the true brokenness of the world we live in, no matter how it likes to hide in the shadows. In the light of Christ, we see the evil done around us, the evil we have done, and the evil done on our behalf. We see that “we have sinned, in thought, word, and deed, in what we have done, and by what we have left undone.” (Book of Common Prayer, 360)
Jesus illuminates these things, enlightens us, so that we may see the truth of the situation, the truth of the systems of power, and the truth of the self.
Jesus has come to be the light of the world.
We who are illuminated by him are called to testify to that light.
Just like John the Baptist, we are called to tell the truth about the light that is already here, and the light that is coming. Our testimonies aren’t complex, spiritual things. They aren’t emotional manipulation of stories full of radical conversion and change. They are only our stories of where we see Jesus shining.
Do you see Jesus in your kids? Tell about that.
Do you see Jesus in the beauty of nature? Tell about that.
Do you find Jesus in serving others? Tell about that.
Do you find Jesus in good food and good friendships? Tell about that.
Do you find Jesus at the Eucharistic table, filling the bread and wine with himself? Tell about that.
Our testimonies are simply sharing our truth, the truth that we see Jesus shine and where he is leading us. The beauty of testifying to the light of Jesus is that we don’t have a prescription for how to do it, only a calling to do it. We who have seen Jesus are called and urged by the Holy Ghost to tell other people what we experience and how Jesus has found, com to, and sat with us.
There is a reason Jesus has come into the world, a reason for the first advent. Jesus came to accomplish the flourishing of all life. That’s why Isaiah talks about bringing good tidings to the poor, binding up the broken hearted, proclaiming freedom to the captives. Jesus came to announce the year of God’s favor, the year of jubilee.
In the Deuteronomic law, the year of jubilee was a year when all debt was canceled, all slave workers were set free, family land reverted to its original owners, and even farming stopped to give the land a rest. It was a time of rejuvenation and rest, a time to enjoy the Good god taking good care of the people he called good. This is the time Jesus came proclaiming, a time for us to do the work of liberation and salvation. A time for us to buck against the reigns of capitalism and money driven lives, and to live differently. A time when the light illuminates all people, and all people are invited into the light.
See, God has already done the work. In Mary, in the incarnation, at the first advent of Christ, God choose the lowly things of this world to reveal his light. The mighty were cast down and the proud were scattered because they were not chosen to reveal the illumination of God. The lowly were lifted up, the hungry filled with good things because in the lowly, the hungry, the thirsty, the needy we see Jesus the revealed, indeed given to us through his blessed lowly servant Mary.
When God rejected the kings and world powers, the rich and affluent, the strong and mighty, to be the revelation of Godself, God was telling us something important: The more we have to hide behind, the more we hold onto, the more we use to run from the pain of the brokenness of the world and ourselves, the less we can see Christ. The more we try and master the darkness in us with stuff and things and might and strength, the less we sit and wait for the spark of life, the light of the world, to come and illuminate us, leading us through the fear and pain into freedom and healing.
Simply put, the more we run from the pain, the less we have to testify to about the light because we are running from the very place we see the light the clearest.
So don’t snuff out the Spirit by hiding from the hurt and pain and darkness inside and outside us, this Advent. Sit. Be still. Let go. Wait. The light of the world is here, the light of the world is coming. Share your story of where you have found the light, where the light has illuminated you.
Here is where you will find your jubilee, your freedom, your joy. Unfettered by the fear and worry of facing the darkness all around, you can rejoice in the light that has illuminated the world.
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