Sermon: "Light in the Darkness"
The Right Reverend Charles G. vonRosenberg
Third Bishop of East Tennessee

[This sermon by Bishop vonRosenberg was delivered using the following notes.]

Imagine with me a home in a rural part of our country, years ago. Imagine a young family living there - a husband, a wife, and a child, perhaps five years old. The young mother's parents live several hundred yards down the nearly-deserted country road. It is the family's custom to visit the grandparents a couple of evenings a week - following dinner, after work, following chores, after dark … at least in the wintertime. The family lights a candle to show them the way. And the candle gives just enough light to guide their steps to the house down the road.

On one particular evening, the child asks if he may go ahead of his parents, carrying his own candle. The parents agree, and the grandparents are alerted to the plan. The time comes, the candle is lighted, and the young child sets out, alone. Of course, people in both houses are quite interested in watching this journey, these early steps in growing up, and so, with some anxiety, they observe the child's progress. The view from each house is the same - a great darkness … and a small light making its way from one place of safety to another.

The prophet Isaiah writes of darkness and light, as he addresses God's people with these words. "Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you. Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn" (60:1-3).

Then St. Matthew tells the story of the wise men. "They set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage" (2:9-11).

As Christians, we are Easter people. That is, we believe that Christ is risen. We affirm that resurrection has triumphed over crucifixion. We rejoice that life has overcome death. And so, we are Easter people indeed - for Easter is the source of our hope.

In addition, though, we are Christmas people. The incarnation of God as a human being gives meaning to life. "God-with-us" in Jesus affirms our dignity and worth, even as he shows us our Way. And so, we are also Christmas people - for Christmas provides an essential foundation for our faith.

Hope and faith, then, come wrapped as gifts, at Easter and Christmas. But how about our everyday lives? How about the exercise of love? Of course, each of these virtues is intimately related to the others - faith, hope, and love. But for today, let's consider love as that light that enters the world … the light in the darkness … the Epiphany.

The familiar Prologue of St. John's Gospel expresses the movement of light into a dark world best of all. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God; all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it" (1:1-5).

As a young man in medical school, Paul Farmer became aware of the challenges in the poor land of Haiti. The interrelationship of malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS - along with rampant political corruption - made prospects for future prosperity, health, and - even - life in Haiti quite grim. However, in love Paul Farmer has continued his ministry of health care, community organization, and love for many years with the people of Haiti's Central Plateau region. Prospects for Haiti continue to be grim indeed, but the love that Paul Farmer brings has certainly made a difference in individual lives. "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

Some years ago, I told this congregation about one of the most vivid Epiphany stories that I have heard - another indication of the light that shines in the darkness. Bill Gordon was the Episcopal Bishop of Alaska for twenty-five years in the mid-1900's. The most reasonable means of travel to some remote places in his diocese was by airplane. Therefore, Bishop Gordon qualified for a pilot's license, and the United Thank Offering gave him a grant to buy an airplane, which he named "The Blue Box."

On one trip to a far-away village, Bishop Gordon encountered an unexpected head wind, which depleted his fuel supply. Even though it was after dark, he managed to find the village. However, he was distressed to discover that the day's snowfall had covered the runway, and in the darkness, it was impossible for him to see where to land. With a growing sense of panic - as he was quickly running out of gas - Bishop Gordon circled the village. The people below realized his plight. They lighted torches, made their way through the snow, and stood in two lines, on either side of the snow-covered runway. Bishop Gordon recognized what the people were doing, and he landed his plane safely, guided by the light in the darkness. Indeed, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

The exercise of love provides light to the world. The darkness does not overcome the light, but in this life, neither does the light overcome the darkness. Nevertheless, the light does continue to shine in the darkness, like that little boy's candle I mentioned earlier. Therefore, in our ministries in this life, may we be followers of Jesus Christ in this world of darkness - people of Epiphany - children of light! Amen.

Copyright © 2008 The Episcopal Diocese of East Tennessee