How To Wake Up To A Life Of Radiance
Sermon
Anyone who lives in the country will know that there's a particular quality to the darkness of night in the country. For those who live in the town, total darkness is rarely if ever experienced, but in the country the quality of blackness during night hours can be almost absolute. Country people who go out during evening hours in the winter soon get into the habit of carrying a torch, for without some source of light they would be utterly blind.
But even the quality of the darkness in the countryside is as nothing compared with the pitch black of a cave. On the blackest night in the countryside, eyes do adjust a bit so that a few vague shapes here and there can eventually be made out. And occasionally a car with headlights might pass, or there might be bright moonlight which enables people to see.
Deep within a cave there's no light source at all, so eyes have no opportunity to adjust and people can begin to realise for the first time what it really feels like to be completely without sight. It's a very disorientating experience, and I should think that to be alone in the depths of a cave without any light source at all would be terrifying.
Perhaps it's only when we're denied light that we really begin to appreciate its importance. And maybe it's only when we're completely unable to see that we really begin to appreciate sight.
When they came upon a man who had been blind since birth, the first thought of Jesus' disciples was to discover whose fault it was. They were anxious to apportion blame so that the man could be neatly slotted into the correct category and presumably then forgotten. After all, if either he or his parents were to blame for his lack of sight, there would be no need to feel any compassion or to do anything to help the man. He'd brought it on himself, and as a sinner, virtuous people would do well to keep away from him.
But Jesus won't have that. He makes it clear that misfortune is part of the human condition rather than necessarily directly relating to sin, and says explicitly that no-one is to blame for the man's lack of sight. Jesus spreads a simple paste on the man's eyes, made from mud and spittle - ingredients he had to hand - and sends the man away to wash the paste off. And immediately the man was able to see, for the first time in his life.
Some of the Pharisees were furious that Jesus had brought sight to someone who was blind. They justified their anger by hanging it on the fact that Jesus had broken religious rules by healing on the Sabbath, and weren't in the least interested in the fact that a man who had been born without sight could now see.
The New Testament is full of light and radiance and brilliance. Darkness is identified with sin, but light and radiance are identified with God and all that's good. In today's reading from the letter to the Ephesians, St. Paul points out the contrast between the pre-Christian life and the Christian life. "For you were once darkness," he says, "but now you are light in the Lord." But it seems that St Paul's words may reflect only the theory and not the practice, for he goes on to urge his readers to live as though they were in the light, saying, "live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord."
That which happens under cover of darkness, says St Paul in this same passage, is shameful and hidden and never produces any worthwhile fruit. Christians should avoid anything like that and allow the light of Christ to shine into their innermost hearts, so that any dark places within become illuminated.
I'm sure that those of us in church today avoid the real deeds of darkness like robbery and violence and corruption, but even so perhaps we aren't completely in the light. Perhaps we have enough light to enable us to see vague outlines and shapes, but not enough light to enable us to see clearly. To really gain our full sight, we need to be like Christ, and so although there may be sudden and amazing moments of sheer clarity, much of the process of gaining sight is inevitably gradual and lifelong for Christians. And sadly there are always those people around who, like the Pharisees, will be furious if anyone regains their sight through Jesus.
Those like the Pharisees of old who dislike the light and would deny it to others, are often unaware that they're living in darkness. Their eyes have adjusted to the amount of light they have and they're not in total, cave-like darkness with no light source at all because they are worshippers and they do know something of God. So perhaps they're more in a country night, where something can be seen by the light of the moon or by a passing car's headlights, but the real brilliance of the Son is avoided.
They're not confined to any particular churchmanship, but they consistently resist any challenge to their faith. For some people this resistance is in the refusal to recognise any sort of scholarship which doesn't fit in with their own, usually rather narrow, view of the Bible. Those who believe every word in the Bible to be literally "true," and deny the existence of poetry or stories or myths within the Bible, avoid the pain of having their own beliefs questioned. For others the resistance to accept any more light is seen in their refusal to accept any change to the tradition in which they were brought up. Everything must remain the same as though set in stone, whether or not that causes a stumbling block to other people and other generations. And for yet others, resistance is in the refusal to acknowledge any type of worship which doesn't fit in with their own ideas. Some even deny to those who worship differently the right to call themselves Christians, passing a sort of human judgement on who is and who isn't fit to be afforded the title of Christian.
But all of that sort of behaviour from whatever branch of the church and however much it masquerades under the title of "Christian," is actually behaviour which belongs in darkness and which denies others the right to receive their sight from Christ. There are many routes to Christ and there are many ways to receive sight from him and none of us has the right to deny anyone else any particular route.
Some people may find the process of having a paste made from mud and spittle smeared over their eyes, too distasteful to contemplate, even when the mud is made by Christ and the spittle contains his life. Others, like the blind man's parents, may be so afraid of the reaction of those they regard highly that they turn their back on any light Christ can bring, and disown any friends who find new insight through Jesus.
But in the end, as St Paul said, light makes everything visible. The darkness of fear or ignorance or embarrassment or shame will eventually be dispelled by the light of Christ, and then that old Christian hymn which St Paul quotes at the end of today's passage will come to fruition: "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." Waking in the light of Christ is like rising up from a long winter hibernation. And when that happens, we begin to see things in their true colours and life becomes radiant indeed.
But even the quality of the darkness in the countryside is as nothing compared with the pitch black of a cave. On the blackest night in the countryside, eyes do adjust a bit so that a few vague shapes here and there can eventually be made out. And occasionally a car with headlights might pass, or there might be bright moonlight which enables people to see.
Deep within a cave there's no light source at all, so eyes have no opportunity to adjust and people can begin to realise for the first time what it really feels like to be completely without sight. It's a very disorientating experience, and I should think that to be alone in the depths of a cave without any light source at all would be terrifying.
Perhaps it's only when we're denied light that we really begin to appreciate its importance. And maybe it's only when we're completely unable to see that we really begin to appreciate sight.
When they came upon a man who had been blind since birth, the first thought of Jesus' disciples was to discover whose fault it was. They were anxious to apportion blame so that the man could be neatly slotted into the correct category and presumably then forgotten. After all, if either he or his parents were to blame for his lack of sight, there would be no need to feel any compassion or to do anything to help the man. He'd brought it on himself, and as a sinner, virtuous people would do well to keep away from him.
But Jesus won't have that. He makes it clear that misfortune is part of the human condition rather than necessarily directly relating to sin, and says explicitly that no-one is to blame for the man's lack of sight. Jesus spreads a simple paste on the man's eyes, made from mud and spittle - ingredients he had to hand - and sends the man away to wash the paste off. And immediately the man was able to see, for the first time in his life.
Some of the Pharisees were furious that Jesus had brought sight to someone who was blind. They justified their anger by hanging it on the fact that Jesus had broken religious rules by healing on the Sabbath, and weren't in the least interested in the fact that a man who had been born without sight could now see.
The New Testament is full of light and radiance and brilliance. Darkness is identified with sin, but light and radiance are identified with God and all that's good. In today's reading from the letter to the Ephesians, St. Paul points out the contrast between the pre-Christian life and the Christian life. "For you were once darkness," he says, "but now you are light in the Lord." But it seems that St Paul's words may reflect only the theory and not the practice, for he goes on to urge his readers to live as though they were in the light, saying, "live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord."
That which happens under cover of darkness, says St Paul in this same passage, is shameful and hidden and never produces any worthwhile fruit. Christians should avoid anything like that and allow the light of Christ to shine into their innermost hearts, so that any dark places within become illuminated.
I'm sure that those of us in church today avoid the real deeds of darkness like robbery and violence and corruption, but even so perhaps we aren't completely in the light. Perhaps we have enough light to enable us to see vague outlines and shapes, but not enough light to enable us to see clearly. To really gain our full sight, we need to be like Christ, and so although there may be sudden and amazing moments of sheer clarity, much of the process of gaining sight is inevitably gradual and lifelong for Christians. And sadly there are always those people around who, like the Pharisees, will be furious if anyone regains their sight through Jesus.
Those like the Pharisees of old who dislike the light and would deny it to others, are often unaware that they're living in darkness. Their eyes have adjusted to the amount of light they have and they're not in total, cave-like darkness with no light source at all because they are worshippers and they do know something of God. So perhaps they're more in a country night, where something can be seen by the light of the moon or by a passing car's headlights, but the real brilliance of the Son is avoided.
They're not confined to any particular churchmanship, but they consistently resist any challenge to their faith. For some people this resistance is in the refusal to recognise any sort of scholarship which doesn't fit in with their own, usually rather narrow, view of the Bible. Those who believe every word in the Bible to be literally "true," and deny the existence of poetry or stories or myths within the Bible, avoid the pain of having their own beliefs questioned. For others the resistance to accept any more light is seen in their refusal to accept any change to the tradition in which they were brought up. Everything must remain the same as though set in stone, whether or not that causes a stumbling block to other people and other generations. And for yet others, resistance is in the refusal to acknowledge any type of worship which doesn't fit in with their own ideas. Some even deny to those who worship differently the right to call themselves Christians, passing a sort of human judgement on who is and who isn't fit to be afforded the title of Christian.
But all of that sort of behaviour from whatever branch of the church and however much it masquerades under the title of "Christian," is actually behaviour which belongs in darkness and which denies others the right to receive their sight from Christ. There are many routes to Christ and there are many ways to receive sight from him and none of us has the right to deny anyone else any particular route.
Some people may find the process of having a paste made from mud and spittle smeared over their eyes, too distasteful to contemplate, even when the mud is made by Christ and the spittle contains his life. Others, like the blind man's parents, may be so afraid of the reaction of those they regard highly that they turn their back on any light Christ can bring, and disown any friends who find new insight through Jesus.
But in the end, as St Paul said, light makes everything visible. The darkness of fear or ignorance or embarrassment or shame will eventually be dispelled by the light of Christ, and then that old Christian hymn which St Paul quotes at the end of today's passage will come to fruition: "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." Waking in the light of Christ is like rising up from a long winter hibernation. And when that happens, we begin to see things in their true colours and life becomes radiant indeed.
