There is a Light that Never Dies

Sermon preached on the First Sunday after Christmas at the Church of St. Luke & St. Simon Cyrene: John 1:1-18

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. John 1:4-5

It is my intention to offer a little testimony this morning to the Light that shines in the darkness.

Let me present my credentials for testifying to the Light. I am a priest, of course, who has walked the way of darkness, the “shadow of death” as the psalmist calls it, with many people. I have been present when the light seems to have departed a person altogether. I have sat with people in the darkest of times.

I have also sat there myself as a human being. Most of you know I suffer from bipolar illness, which means I have seen my share of depression, that illness whose primary purpose seems to be to convince you that the light has gone out and the darkness has won. I have been in that place and I shudder to think about it. Thank God I have come walking out the other side.

So when the Gospel writer John says that the light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it, my ears prick up and I listen. This is, in fact, an expression of the very core of my faith. Without this kind of assertion I could never be a Christian. This assertion that the light is eternally steadfast is indeed life for me. I am one of the “all people” of which John speaks.

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.

I love the old King James translation of verse five.

And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

The darkness doesn’t understand the light. It just doesn’t get it. Why not take the easy route and simply succumb to it? Why waste all that energy burning to what futile end? Just let the darkness overtake you. It will all be over. No more struggle.

Why? Because the struggle is life and because it is life it is also the light. The struggle keeps the light burning.

This reminds me of a favorite Dylan Thomas poem.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

What does this mean about the acceptance of death? Isn’t it a good thing to go out of this world at peace, reconciled to death? I suppose so, yet I want to say that being reconciled to death and capitulating to it are two different things. I refuse to believe that death is anything but a momentary transition point. The light shines in that darkness as well and the darkness not only doesn’t overcome it, it is obliterated by it. The instant of death is followed by the ultimate triumph of the light. So, yes, I want a peaceful death but I’ll not accept it as having any kind of last word over me and I pray that I “rage, rage against the dying of the light” to my last breath. The struggle continues until the triumph of life, the triumph of the light.

What does this all have to do with Christmas? In John’s words, this light that was the light for all people was the Word that was made flesh and lived among us. And we behold his glory.

This Jesus, born for us, is our light, which means as well that we are lights for one another since we are his body.

We celebrate at Christmas the light that has come into the world, the light that the darkness neither understands nor can overcome.

As we celebrate the Word made flesh today, let us receive that light and, in turn, commit ourselves to being lights for others, for we are that Word’s body.