I Am Still the Light (Ps. 27:1, Jn 1: 4,5, Mt 19: 13, Jn 8: 12 (12/23/12)

      It’s the fourth Sunday of Advent. This is the Sunday when we light the
candle of Love. He will be here soon. Mary and Joseph are traveling to little Bethlehem, which has swelled well beyond its capacity to house all the travelers coming in for the census. Mary knows her time is short. It will be only two more days and He will come into the world, the world He created, presided over by this unruly mob of nations. Mary’s heart is full. She is tired, but ready to deliver this promise from God. She is ready to give Him all the love she has saved in her heart for this moment. As powerful and steadfast as her love for Him will be, it will prove to be not much more than a trifle compared to the love He will bring to the broken world into which He is about to be delivered. In time, the world will come to define love by the way He offered his own love to us.

Advent is a happy time, a time of anticipation. These are the days and hours leading to the birth of the Christ child, the child who was to change the world forever. For those of us who have experienced parenthood, we know deeply the meaning of the words of the song that Ashley Horton sang so tenderly last week: “A child changes everything.”

Yes, a child changes everything. And after a child has come into your life, or until a child does so, the absence of a child changes everything too. Perhaps it is the newness and freshness of a mind not yet soiled by the world. Perhaps it is the innocence of a soul not yet tainted by evil and selfishness. Whatever it is, children are the freshness in a world full of dirty laundry and skeletons in closets. Children bring us light.

Can you imagine standing in line at the police barrier two weeks ago? In a small community, word travels fast. We have all seen the pictures of the children coming out of Sandy Hook as their parents wait, leaning over the barriers, looking for their child. After a while, the children are out. They have united with their parents and gone home. But there are still parents on the line. They wait. They wait, hoping there is a mistake, maybe a child hiding who will emerge sooner or later, so they wait. But there are no more children walking out. The first grade parents begin to realize the unthinkable. Some sob. Some square their jaws and clench their fists. Many are praying for this cup to pass.

And yet, as bad as that image is, imagine this one. The word goes out that the Messiah has been born in Bethlehem. In response, the reigning Jewish king of the day issues an order for all the male children two years old and under in that area to be murdered. Evil was alive and well in Israel two thousand years ago, just as surely as it was two weeks ago in Newtown.

In the 27^th Psalm, King David declares: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” The Lord is my light, says David. No fear. The beloved apostle John tells us in the beginning of his gospel that “In Him (meaning Jesus) was life, and the life was the light of the world.”

We have heard these words many times. They are always a comfort to those who believe. Are they a comfort to those whose belief is pressed to the breaking point? I hope so.  In Newtown, Connecticut, parents are burying little children this week. At a time that we celebrate the birth of the Christ child, Sandy Hook Elementary’s parents are saying goodbye to the lights of their lives. Has evil won?

I want to read you a very fresh poem. You may have already heard it. It was written this week by a person named Cameo Smith from Mt. Wolf, PA, and is traveling over the internet. Listen.

Twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38,
When 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
They were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say.

They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
"Where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
"This is heaven." declared a small boy. "We're spending Christmas at God's house."
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
Then He opened His arms and He called them by name,
And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring.
Those children all flew into the arms of their King,
And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
One small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had,
He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of Mom and Dad."
Then He looked down on earth, the world far below,
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe.
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!"
"May this country be delivered from the hands of fools."
"I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!"

Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
"Come now my children, let me show you around."
Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
"In the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT."

        Matthew tells us in the 19^th chapter of his gospel that Jesus has gone down

from Galilee to the region of Judea, where he engages in dialogue about divorce

with the Pharisees. While he is talking, children are brought to him to lay hands

on them. His disciples are pushing the parents back, trying to let Jesus continue

in his lecturing with the Pharisees.  Jesus stops his disciples. He stops what he is

doing and says: “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to

them belongs the kingdom of heaven.” He laid his hands on them. Then he went

away. Want to know how much God loves his children? Think about how much

you love your own. Think about how much it means for them to be in your life.

Then, think about sending your only child to certain death and death as horrible

as mankind could make it. Behind that image is more love than we can quantify.

That is the stage upon which the child Jesus stepped on that first Christmas

night.   

       For to them belongs the kingdom of heaven, says Jesus. The children have

the innocence to hear the truth, to discern that which is genuine. Oh, that we

could remain in that childlike innocence. We could find the kingdom of heaven

so much more easily. Even in this media driven world which would immunize us

from any semblance of innocence, we are called rightly by Scripture to have

faith like that of children. Carl Henry says that Jesus turns life right side-up,

and heaven outside-in.  The truth of life lies not with the six o’clock news, but

rather with the Good News.

        On December 14, 2012, evil came to a little elementary school in Newtown,

New Jersey. It came violently and left behind a horror that would challenge the

strongest Christian’s faith. But evil has always been here. It was in the Garden

of Eden and challenged Adam. It was in the Garden of Gethsemane and

tempted Jesus. Like the parents and children at Sandy Hook, his cup did not

pass either.  Evil has always been with us. The question is whether it conquers

our spirits or whether we instead hold fast to the Light.

       

     This weekend we remember the star that signaled the birth of God himself in

human form. Let us also remember the promise of our Savior. John’s gospel

tells us in Chapter 8 (12) that Jesus is in the temple courts, again confronting

the scribes and Pharisees, this time over the woman caught in adultery. As he

forgives her, he turns to the audience and says “I am the light of the world.

Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

       

     As Cameo Smith says about Jesus: “I AM STILL THE LIGHT.” Worry not

about the children who left us, for as the poem says, they’re spending Christmas

in God’s house. Concern yourself this day and every day with walking in the

light. Concern yourself that the message we send as Christians to those parents

in Newtown, and parents everywhere, is that our Savior is our Salvation. He is

our light. In time the painful images of Sandy Hook will fade, but I think we

should hold on to the lesson. Evil is never far from us, and there no real

protection from its tentacles except an abiding faith in Jesus Christ to guide us

through the darkness into his everlasting Light.

      It is Christmas. As the Conductor on the Polar Express reminds his young

passengers, sometimes the things that are the most real are the things we

cannot see. And the Word that was the light of the world came and dwelt

among us. Let’s spend this Christmas in God’s house right here on earth. It’s

Advent. He has come, and He is coming. Hallelujah!