The Lutheran Hour
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"A Light in the Darkness"
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Text: John 1:5
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Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed. Today, the light promised by prophet, that was born in Bethlehem, declared dead on Calvary, and proclaimed living by an angel before the empty tomb, comes to you. He comes bringing God’s gracious light to a world darkened by death, Satan and sin. A risen Christ, a living Lord, an illuminating Light has come to brighten your days in this New Year. God grant that light shine in you. Amen.
Nine-year-old Brent was in second grade when most children his age were fourth graders. He was big for his years, a clumsy fellow, and learning was always a struggle. But Brent was also a kindly soul, a gentle boy, a child that would always defend the underdog, and was well liked by his classmates. Wishing to give him self-confidence, his parents encouraged him to audition for the annual Sunday school Christmas service. Brent wanted to be a shepherd, but he was given the role of the innkeeper. The teacher in charge of casting figured Brent’s size would lend extra believability to the role when he had to refuse a room to Mary, Joseph, and the soon-to-come baby Jesus. Mother and father helped with his lines, and during rehearsals it all came off without a hitch. Brent learned to be firm as he told Joseph, “There was no room in the inn.”
The night of the service, no one was more caught up in the story than Brent. The lights, the full costumes, the music, touched him in a very special way. That’s why, when Joseph knocked on the painted cardboard door of the makeshift inn, Brent was ready. He flung the door open and asked menacingly, “What do you want?” “We seek lodging,” Joseph replied. “Seek it elsewhere,” Brent said in a firm and deep voice. “There’s no room in the inn.” “Please, good innkeeper,” Joseph pleaded, “this is my wife, Mary. She is with child and is very tired. She needs a place to rest.” There was a long pause as Brent looked down at Mary. The teacher in charge of the service was prepared for any lapses in memory. She whispered Brent’s next line: “No! Be gone!” Brent remained silent. Not hearing the cue, in the best of acting tradition, the couple playing Mary and Joseph acted as if nothing had happened. They turned and began to slowly move into the darkness. Seeing this, Brent’s face creased with concern. Then he called out, “Don’t go! You can have my room.” It’s not the way it was scripted, but, for once, darkness did not win.
Now, before you pick up your phones and call in to “The Lutheran Hour” and remind me Christmas is over, I want you to know I have not misplaced my calendar. I realize Christmas, for most of you, has come and gone. The weeks we spent in anticipation are over. Shopping for the perfect gift–it’s over. The decorating of our homes–over. The wrapping of gifts–over. The lights–off and unplugged. The holiday baking–over. The telephone calls to old friends–over. The company Christmas party–over. The special worship services at church, the Christmas holiday specials on television–all over. Those with live trees are hurrying to get them out to the garbage. Those with fake trees are trying to put them back into the box. Christmas has come to an abrupt end, like it does every January. We are returning to those unthrilling days of normalcy. We’ve come back to earth, facing same old–same old. There is little difference, and the darkness is descending, once again.
You, my friends, know what I’m talking about. On the news, darkness is descending as terrorists continue to make their threats. One terrorist leader, with a strange sounding name is captured, and is replaced by another terrorist leader, with an equally strange sounding name. Only the dark threat remains. The darkness descends as we hear of another child disappearing from a school bus stop or from a neighborhood playground. Although the name and address is different, the anguish of the parents is the same; the sympathetic search is the same, and the descending darkness is the same. We listen to the economic news and the darkness descends. The plight and poverty of one Latin American nation is replaced by another. The scandal connected with the corruption of one company is shoved aside by another. And the darkness descends. In the government, the reputation of one trusted politician is sullied by scandal. He is bumped off the front page by another politician’s lurid life. It’s no longer “news” to hear of outrageous cost overruns in the military, and deficits in national, state, and municipal government spending. No matter what plan is promoted, the darkness keeps coming. We are returning to “normal” as the darkness descends.
Over a century ago, two natives in Australia, yet unmarked by civilization, watched as the government constructed a giant coastal lighthouse. Impressed, they came to the celebration of its opening. They spent some time touring the grand facility and listening to the promises of the speakers. All was prepared with the lights, the bell and the horn ready to go on at dusk. But, an hour before the lighthouse went on line, the thickest and darkest of all fogs came rolling in from the sea. Before they turned to leave, with a regretful tone one native said to the other, “Light shine, bell ring, horn blow, but fog come in just the same.”
Is that how your life feels? Is the dark still coming, no matter what lighthouse you build? Are your fears growing? Does tomorrow seem to be without hope? When asked how you are, do you, with resignation, reply, “No point in complaining, nobody listens anyway.” Is your personal darkness filled with fear? Most of us have those fears, you know. Do you know that 40% of our country’s people have topophobia? That’s fear of speaking in public. Don’t have that one? Well, maybe you have acrophobia, fear of heights, or entomophobia, fear of insects. Possibly you have atephobia or bathophobia, or phathophobia. That’s fear of financial problems, deep water, or disease. Still haven’t found your fear? Maybe darkness descends on you in the form of thanatophobia, aerophobia or monophobia. Maybe it’s cynophobia or ochophobia or nyctophobia. Those are, respectively, fear of death, flying, loneliness, dogs, riding in a car or the dark. But I still haven’t mentioned your fear? Don’t breathe too large a sigh of relief. You might hide your fear from me, or even from those nearest and dearest to you, but you can’t hide that fear from yourself. Your fear is there. We know it. Darkness descends upon you, too, doesn’t it?
Whatever your darkness, there are a number of ways you can cope with it. You can let the darkness paralyze you–stop you in mid stride, afraid to move forward or back, or to the side. I’ve noticed people who deal with the darkness in this way do manage to avoid most accidents. But they also don’t make much progress. If you find yourself so afraid of the darkness that you no longer are living, it’s time to let the Lord move you out of that darkness into His Light.
Perhaps you deal with the darkness by pretending there is no darkness. Your life is a never-ending charade where you are afraid your masquerade might be stripped away with disastrous results. Years ago, a circus featured a Bengal tiger act. One night, the trainer went into the cage for his performance. All went well, until the middle of the act, there was a power failure! For two minutes, that trainer was locked in darkness with a cage full of tigers. They could see him, but he couldn’t see them. He managed to survive. Afterwards, in an interview, when he was asked how he felt, he said, “I just kept cracking my whip and talking to them until the lights came on. They never knew I couldn’t see them.” Is that how you deal with the darkness? Do you keep barking orders and cracking your whip? What a sham. You know the truth and how vulnerable you are. If I described you, it’s time to be moved out of your darkness into the Lord’s Light. The darkness is descending. There’s nothing you can do to prevent it. So, let the Lord move you from your darkness into His marvelous Light.
Do you remember the story of Brent at the beginning of my message today? He was the special boy who couldn’t stand to see Mary and Joseph wander off into the darkness. He was the one who offered his room for their comfort. That boy, in his own little way, is a human example of what our God has done for us. After the sin of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, the Lord, looking down the corridors of the centuries, saw humanity wandering off into the darkness of damnation, alone and lost (Romans 1:18). By rights, He should have, in His divine justice, allowed that to happen. Certainly, no one could have asked Him to do anything else.
But, the idea of those countless souls moving into the corridors of condemnation touched our heavenly Father. His Divine mercy was moved and with gentle love, He called out, “Don’t go. I’ll let you in. You can get in because of My Son” (1 Thessalonians 1:10). Through prophecy, God said, “Don’t go into the darkness. I will let you into heaven because of My Son, the everlasting Light” (Isaiah 60:19). Through John the Baptist, God spoke to you, me, and all the lost and lonely. He said, “I will give you an opportunity to repent and be saved. There is a room in heaven for those who take the hand of My Son, the Light” (John 1:6-9). Jesus, Himself, extended the same Divine invitation to doubters and deniers, skeptics, sinners and saints. He said, “Don’t go into the darkness. Believe on Me, and you can walk in the Light” (John 8:12).
So that we might be saved, God gave up, not a room in a children’s Christmas service, He gave up His Son, and sent the true and only Light into this dark world. To a world filled with the darkness of greed, Jesus brought generosity. To a world filled with the darkness of hatred, Jesus brought heaven. To a world that faced the darkness of death, Jesus brought life. To a world destined for despair and damnation, Jesus was born so that all who believe might know hope in heaven.
Each year, the world saddened by the darkness it sees, tries to find the Light. They know it has to be there, somewhere. That is why, even those who have no connection to Christ, venture bravely into the crowded shopping malls with their Christmas lists. They send out sentimental cards hoping some verse will supplant the sadness they feel. They know the light ought to be out there, somewhere. But they never find it. They are not alone. There were fruitless searchers when Jesus was born. There were futile searchers when John the Baptist called for repentance before the Savior’s ministry began. There were failed searchers as Jesus lived His life for us, suffered for us, died for us, and rose for us. Even so, today people begin and end their search in the darkness. They are disappointed. They are discouraged. They doubt that the Light exists. They never understand that, like a little child, they have played with the Christmas trappings and missed the treasure. And so, year after year, the darkness descends.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. It can be different. The life the Light brings lasts forever. The night Jesus was born, from starry skies, the voices of angels spoke of the light of the Lord that was born for them. The shepherds journeyed to Bethlehem and found the young Babe, wrapped in swaddling clothes. It was a sight that changed their lives. Because of what they saw, they reflected that Light, and shared Him, with all who would listen (Luke 2:17-18). True, they went back to the same sheep, the same fields, the same unappreciated work. But, having seen the Light, they knew the darkness could never collapse about them and claim them, as it once had.
Mary, our Lord’s mother, having given birth to the Light, kept all these miraculous things and pondered them in her heart (Luke 2:19). True, she would encounter future difficulties. Thirty-three years later, she would watch her Boy be crucified. But the Light had changed Mary. A Jewish king might try to kill her Child. The neighbors might try to stone Him. A Roman procurator would have Him crucified. But never again would she have to fear the darkness. Simeon, who had been waiting for the Light, had the opportunity to see the Baby Jesus (Luke 2:30). After that, death might come for Simeon but darkness for him had been dispelled.
Look at the Epiphany wise men. Tomorrow some of you may celebrate the festival that says Jesus is the Light for everyone’s darkness. Anything I can say about these star-led wanderers pales before Isaiah’s prophecy: “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you. See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the LORD rises upon you and His glory appears over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn” (Isaiah 60:1-3). Can there be any doubt that they, representing all the nations of the earth, having seen the Light, returned home in that Light?
The Light came to a tax collector by the name of Zacchaeus, and his thieving heart was reformed (Luke 19:5-11). The Light came to a dying thief on a cross, and, in Jesus, the hope of heaven became a reality (Luke 23:43). The Light shone upon a murderer by the name of Saul and transformed him into a mighty apostle (Acts 9:3-18). Time and again, Scripture relates the truth, and history repeats that truth a million times over. When the Light comes into your heart, your life is different, the world is different, you are different. There can be no other choice. No matter how dark the day on your calendar, when you have Jesus, you have forgiveness, life, and hope. He is the Light.
Do you not see it? I’m afraid some of you don’t. Pay attention, please. If you can feel the darkness coming, God wants you to know it doesn’t have to be that way. Take down your trees and decorations of the season. Put the colored lights and tinsel away in your basement or attic. But do not shut away the Lord, the Light, the Illuminator of your days in 2003. In Jesus, forgiveness can come to the fore and fear will be no more.
A poor little boy once heard his Sunday school teacher say, “Jesus is the light of the world.” He took her remark literally. After class, the boy said, “If Jesus really is the Light of the world, I wish He’d come hang out in my alley. It’s awful dark where I live.” Is your alley dark? Jesus will come.
The Spirit wants you to say, “Jesus, don’t go. There is room. You can have my heart!” The Spirit wants you to know that after the angels song is stilled and the star in the sky has vanished, when the tree is taken down and the shepherds are back with their flocks, then the Light can illuminate your days and nights. If this is the Light you need, then let my friends at the Lutheran Hour help you. For over 80 years, they have been sharing that Light. Let them share it with you, today. They know what I have said is true. The Light is true. The Hope is for you.
Years ago, a farm boy was walking with his father across their farmyard. The boy, carrying the lantern told his father he was afraid because the lantern showed such a little way ahead of them. The father answered, “That is so, but as you walk on, you will find the light will cover your footsteps.” And it will. Jesus is bright enough to light each step of your way, each moment of your day, and keep the darkness away. And that is enough. Amen.
LUTHERAN HOUR MAILBOX (Questions & Answers) for January 5, 2003
ANNOUNCER: We’re here with Pastor Ken Klaus. I’m Mark Eischer. Here’s a comment from someone who visited our website. He says he was raised in a Christian home and attended church often. However, as he got older and had children of his own, he stopped going to church. He still believes in God but sometimes feels lost and scared that he’s not “good enough” for God.
KLAUS: Well, who is good enough for God? Jesus came to seek and save the lost (Luke 19:10). He came to call sinners to repentance and salvation (Mark 2:17). Look at the kind of people Jesus called to follow Him. There was a tax collector, a murderer, adulterers–sinners of all types. Jesus wanted to save each and every one of these souls. God declares us “good enough” on account of Jesus and His righteousness. That is true for this person, also. Jesus is saying to this person, “Come to Me, and I will not turn you away.” However, to prevent that from happening, the devil is, in this person’s life, setting up some kind of false preconditions for forgiveness and encouraging that person to stay away from God’s grace. As long as that happens, true worship will be impossible.
ANNOUNCER: And what would God say to that?
KLAUS: The same thing He always says, “Come.” It’s that simple. There is no sin so great that the Lord cannot forgive it. There is no sinner so foul, the Lord doesn’t want to save him. God says, “Come. Be forgiven. Come, worship Me.”
ANNOUNCER: Why do people stay away from church?
KLAUS: Some people feel the church is filled with sinners and hypocrites. Others feel the church isn’t giving them what they want. Still others may have bad feelings about a member of the church, or their pastor, or the way things are going. What really concerns me most about this individual is not only has he stopped worshipping the Lord in a public setting, he is also not leading his children to worship.
ANNOUNCER: But God hasn’t closed the door on him.
KLAUS: When I read through the Bible, I see the Lord looking for sinners. In the Garden of Eden, God went looking for Adam and Eve. God went looking for most of His Old Testament prophets. In the New Testament, the Lord Jesus went looking for His disciples and said, “Come.” He came to a tax collector’s house and brought salvation (Luke 19:9). He invited the children to come to Him and blessed them (Mark 10:14). Jesus invited all who were weary and burdened to come to Him so He might give them rest (Matt. 11:28). That’s how I see Jesus, always saying, “Come to Me.”
ANNOUNCER: But the devil and our sinful human nature is saying, “No, forget it, run away from God.”
KLAUS: That’s right. That’s why when Luke first described the early church, he said, “They continued steadfastly in the apostle’s doctrine and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in prayers.” Those early Christians knew they needed each other for support, for growth, to accomplish the work the Lord had given them. To encourage worshipping together, the author of Hebrews wrote, “Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another.” And all the more as you see the day approaching, we need to help each other be prepared. And that just doesn’t seem to happen when we are left to ourselves.
ANNOUNCER: Is there anything else you would like to say to this person?
KLAUS: Yes, there is Mark. In the ancient world, there was a great philosopher by the name of Socrates. One day he noticed one of his students go into a house of “ill-repute.” Drawing closer, Socrates called out his student’s name. The disciple, embarrassed, hid himself. Finally, he knew he had no choice but to go out, his face crimson with shame, his head hung down. He expected a stern rebuke from his teacher, but Socrates spoke like a father. He said, “Come forth, my son! To leave this house is not disgraceful. The only disgraceful thing was to have entered it.” That’s what the Lord is saying to this individual, whose head is hung down because of some past sin. God says, “Come forth, My son, My daughter. There is no sin in being forgiven. There is no sin in coming to worship Me. The only sin was to stop in the first place. But, through the blood of Jesus, I forgive you.”
ANNOUNCER: Thank you, Pastor Klaus.