Lent 4
Sermon preached by the Reverend Ed Green
For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light.
One of the great privileges of being at St Bene’t’s is the wide range of preachers we have at our disposal. It is, I hope, a privilege for us that we get to hear a wide range of different voices sharing the Gospel, according to the various different gifts they have. Not to mention the fact that you can all breathe a sigh of relief at the end of this sermon, knowing you won’t have to listen to me go on again for a good few weeks. But it is also undeniably a privilege for those who do the preaching, too. You don’t get good at preaching unless you spend time hearing it done, and it is wonderful for us that we do not have far to go. And, importantly, it is an enormous privilege that we get a reasonably long time between sermons - we aren’t rushing to get the next one written straight away.
But this expansive pattern of preaching has meant that the last time I preached in this pulpit was all the way back at Candlemas, and the time before that was Christmas! And now, those sermons feel like such a very long time ago - a whole reality ago even - but I do remember what they were about. The Gospel reading for Christmas was the opening of St John’s Gospel - the famous passage which begins ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.’ I won’t pad out my sermon by reading you the whole thing, but at the end of that reading we are told: ‘The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.’ In my Candlemas sermon, I revisited this passage, even though it wasn’t the set reading for the day, and preached that God’s refining fire described by Malachi is not something to be afraid of, because it is that same light. I’m very sorry if I’m starting to sound like a stuck record, but this morning I am going to refer to that pivotal verse for a third time. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
Today’s gospel reading, from later in John, is not directly about darkness and light, but about blindness and vision. I think it’s fair to say that a great many people take their senses for granted. I for one am not constantly amazed by God’s great gift of vision, I just see things. And even where our senses are impaired, it’s easy for that simply to be the fact of things. I have a hearing impairment, and sometimes it’s a source of difficulty or frustration. But the vast majority of the time, I just hear things as clearly (or unclearly) as I hear them, and to me it’s normal.
But, for those of us who usually see well, there is a situation in which we become aware of our vision, or lack of it, in a profound way. When we are subject to a sudden, unexpected change in brightness, it makes us, for a moment, unable to see anything at all. This is true when a bright light suddenly begins to shine. We can’t see what is beyond it and the people and things around us go out of focus. And, it is also true when a light suddenly goes out. We are all left in the dark, unable to see a thing. But, little by little, one by one, we begin to see the other sources of light around us. Individually, they might well be small and not all that bright, but as our eyes adjust, we begin to see them, little by little. And together, after a time, they all add up and it turns out that we have enough light to see everything we need, even if not everything we might want.
There is a light that shines in all of us. It’s the same light that shines in the darkness, which the darkness cannot overcome, because it is the light of Christ. Some of us shine only dimly for now. But that should not be a source of despair, because the darkness cannot overcome the light no matter how small it is. No amount of darkness can extinguish the flame of the smallest candle. Some of us flicker - sometimes shining very brightly and other times needing to turn down the power. But that should not be a source of shame, because knowing our limits is one of the fruits of that light. And some of us try to keep our light hidden, because we’re not ready to be seen. If that’s you, I encourage you to let it shine out. But, if you’re not quite ready, that’s ok, because the darkness cannot overcome your light; no matter how expertly your bushel basket is woven, there will be gaps and your light will shine through.
Sometimes, however, it’s not a question of whether - or how brightly - the light of Christ is shining from us. Because we have to see it too. There are, of course, times when we try deliberately not to see. But there are also times when, for reasons that are hard to understand, light can shine on us from all directions, and yet we only see darkness. Just like literal blindness, this inability to perceive light isn’t a character flaw. It’s not because we’re not trying hard enough, or our intentions aren’t pure enough. It can happen though the fruit of the light is found in all our deeds.
It also isn’t a punishment. The light of Christ isn’t taken away from us just because we make mistakes. One does not have to be taking part in unfruitful works of darkness, as St Paul puts it, in order for this sense of darkness to occur. If you can’t see the light that I’m talking about, you are not the problem.
In our community here at St Bene’t’s, we can be forgiven for feeling like our brightest light has gone out. But the light that shines in all of us is the very same light. As our eyes adjust, I pray we can see it shining in one another, and in ourselves. And then we remember who it was in this place that helped us to light it to begin with. For once we were darkness, but now in the Lord we are light. All of us were helped on our journey toward the Lord in one way or another by Anna. I, for one, would not be standing in this pulpit today if it had not been for her ministry as Diocesan Director of Ordinands. From the brightly-burning flame of her faith many lamps have been lit. Though it might be hard for us to see at first, her light hasn’t gone out. It has spread. The darkness cannot overcome it, because it is from God.
Christ is our light. The light that shines in the darkness isn’t just a spiritual cliché. It’s Jesus Christ, who was there in the beginning, who is with God and who is God. The light is love - the love that we share with one another, which we continue to share with those who have left this earth. And, even more after this life, the darkness can never overcome the light, because the light of the world is life. It is the unquenchable love of Christ. Therefore it says ‘Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.