A Light In the Darkness
John 1:1-6, 19-28
Sermon
by Charley Reeb

(after the Newtown, Connecticut, school shooting)

I was finishing up my sermon on a Friday when my phone buzzed with the horrific news of the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary. As I watched the news unfold, I knew the message I had prepared would not be adequate. I knew a different message would need to be preached. I believe you will understand why I will be going in a different direction today. We were shocked, we were angry, we were afraid, we were heartbroken, and I must speak to that today.

I have cried several times over that tragedy, as I know many of you have. That was the only appropriate way to begin to respond to that unthinkable and unspeakable event. Children, anticipating the joy of Christmas, were taken from us — innocent children who had their whole lives ahead of them, all their hopes and dreams were gone in an instant.

We cried for the parents and family of those lost. We cried for the community of Newtown, Connecticut, that was going through unimaginable and unbearable grief. As we cried, we hugged our children a little tighter and we told each other “I love you” a little more. We also recognized how precious life really is.

If we are honest, we were also angry. We were like the Old Testament prophets who shouted out with anger and indignation at the evil in this world. The governor of Connecticut was right when he said, “Evil has visited this town…” We were angry at this evil and we railed against it.

Our grief and anger eventually gave way to prayer. We prayed to God with our questions, our anger, our grief, and our despair — “Lord, how could this happen? Lord, why did this happen? Lord, is there a word from you in all of this? Lord, the world is so dark, so violent, so bloody, so hateful! Lord, may your kingdom come, now! Why is there a delay to your kingdom, O Lord? When will your kingdom come, O Lord?”

I want to address the questions that many of us prayed then and now — the questions we struggle with. I know all of us come here today with questions we want answered. Our hearts cry out with questions because these kinds of tragedies shatter our ideas of how the world is supposed to operate.

I remember several years ago when a man named Mark Barton walked into an Atlanta business office and shot and killed people. The next day the Atlanta Constitution carried a poignant cartoon of a little boy sitting next to his mother on the couch. There was a newspaper on the coffee table that showed the headline: “Atlanta Murderer: Mark Barton.” The boy looked up at his mother and said, “You said monsters don’t exist.”

Well, that pretty much sums it up, doesn’t it? How many children right now are asking, “Mommy, Daddy I thought you said monsters don’t exist?” How many of us adults are asking the same question in different ways: “Why do these evil things exist? Why would God allow these tragedies that have broken America’s heart? Why did God allow twenty children to be killed? Why did God allow a principal who cared so much about education to be taken from us? Why did God allow a school psychologist who loved children so much to be killed? Why didn’t God divert the shooter? Why didn’t God intervene?” People have asked me these questions many times. What is the answer?

The answer is one word — freedom. We live in a world where God has given us freedom. The same freedom that allows us to choose to love and serve God allows others to pick up weapons and kill innocent people. Freedom itself is good, like all of God’s gifts, but some choose to pervert God’s gift and use it for evil. Why didn’t God intervene? Why didn’t God do something to prevent this? Because freedom was at stake. Jim Somerville expressed it well, “If God took away our freedom to do evil he would also be taking away our freedom to do good!” If God did that we would just be a bunch of numb robots incapable of love or hate.

God wraps his loving arms around the victims of these tragedies and around a broken and devastated nation. God’s heart is torn apart as he sees his gift of freedom being perverted repeatedly.

We hold on to the hope that one day God’s kingdom will be fully realized on earth and God will wipe every tear. Fear, violence, hatred, war, and bloodshed will be no more! Until that day comes we have to cope with tragedies like these. How do we do it? We cope by understanding where God is in the midst of tragedy.

So where is God in the midst of these tragedies? This question underscores the importance of Advent. We have a tendency to romanticize Advent — when Christ was born all was clean — all was majestic — all was calm and silent — all was bright. No, it wasn’t! This is not the world Christ was born into. He was born rejected in a smelly, messy, rat-infested feeding trough for animals in the small town of Bethlehem. When Jesus was born, King Herod felt so threatened he commanded all little boys two and under in and around Bethlehem to be slaughtered. Jesus was born in the midst of the mass murder of children.

God did not connect with this world from afar with an-gels surrounding him singing the Hallelujah chorus. God be-came flesh in the midst of our ugly and messy lives. Advent means there is no place so dark, dirty, or ugly that God will not go to be with us, to love us, to understand us, to comfort us, to save us, and to redeem us! Only the Christian faith dares to claim that God emptied himself completely and went through the entire human experience. God gets down beside us to feel our pain and to heal our lives.

Isaiah 40:11 (NIV) says, “He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart.” You want to know where those precious children are? God gathered those lambs close to him and said: “Don’t you worry. They are in the safest place imaginable. I have tucked them close to my heart and I will never let them go.”

Where was God on that Friday morning of the Connecticut shooting? He was holding the victims, feeling the pain of their wounds. Where was God? He was wailing with the parents in the churches. Where was God? He was wailing and crying with our nation. And as God cried with us I believe he said: “How long will my children do this to each other? How long will this precious world of mine choose such evil and destruction? How long?” Oh, the patience and long-suffering of almighty God!

It does not escape us that we even killed God when he came upon this earth. He conquered death, but what do we think the cross means? As God in Christ is on the cross he cries out, “When will the world learn that my love is the answer? Not more violence — not more war — not more political rhetoric — not more arguments — not more policies — not more technology! How much clearer can I make it?”

So where is God? He is right here, closer than our breath, tasting our tears, loving us eternally. Because we know that God is near we can respond to these tragedies.

We can respond by showing the world the light of Christ that overcomes the darkness. Isn’t that what Christmas is all about? John 1:9 (NIV) states, “The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.” The same light that was in Christ lives in each of us. This is why we need Christmas now more than ever! “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 over-come it” (John 1:3-5).

Do you know what these powerful words from the gospel of John mean right now? They mean when the world is at its worst, the church needs to be at her best! Where are the devastated people flocking to? The church! What other institution can offer hope, light, love, strength, and faith in the midst of tragedy? What other institution can do what the church can do? We are the light!

It is in the midst of tragedies like this that we must re-learn the lesson that we don’t draw people to Christ by being judgmental, self-righteous, ecclesiastical, and spiritually arrogant. We don’t draw people to Christ by telling others we are right and they are wrong. “We draw people to Christ” said Madeleine L’Engle, “by reflecting a light that is so lovely and compelling that they want with all of their hearts to know the source of it.”

The message of Advent is that God’s light is stronger than the darkness, God’s love is stronger than hate, and God’s power is stronger than death. How will the world know unless we show them? We have a nation filled with broken and hurting people who are wondering, “Where is God? Is this all there is to life — killing, hate, violence, and bloodshed? Is this all there is?” How will the world know any different unless we show them the light? That is your job this week and that is my job this week. We are to take the light that is in here and carry it with us — to our work places, homes, neighborhoods — to the grocery stores and shops we visit. Let Jesus’ light shine through you! If there is to be peaceful change in this world, it begins in each of us!

When Mister Rogers was a boy and saw frightening things in the news, his mother would say something very wise to him. She would say, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” We need to do the same. We need to be encouraged by all the helpers. In fact, all the helpers should be a motivator for us to join them. Let us be the helpers! Let us be the light and show the world that the light of Christ is stronger than the darkness.

Haven’t we seen so many amazing people who are sharing the light? What about Robbie Parker, the father of Emilie Parker who was killed in the Sandy Hook shooting? This wonderful man of faith had the courage to give a national interview. He spoke of the love and innocence of his precious daughter and how much he loved being her father. When a reporter asked how he was going to move on, he replied, “I’m going to move on by helping as many people as I can.” Robbie Parker chose to let his light shine!

There was also first-grade teacher Kaitlin Roig who heard what sounded like the rapid firing of an assault rifle. “I knew something was wrong,” she told ABC “World News” anchor Diane Sawyer. She rushed the fourteen children, aged six and seven, into the class bathroom. She helped some climb onto the toilet so they could all fit in the tiny room. Then she locked the door. “I just told them we had to be absolutely quiet,” Roig told Sawyer. “If they started crying, I would take their face and tell them, ‘I love you. It’s going to be okay.’ I wanted that to be the last thing they heard, not the gunfire in the hall.”

When she said “I told them I loved them,” isn’t that what God wants us to hear? Not the gunfire, but the love. Listen, even in our darkest hour of need God has us in his arms and he whispers, “I love you and nothing can separate you from my love.” It is the strongest power in the world.

How do we respond? We do something that Jesus said to his disciples and it is something many of us have heard, but we are skeptical that it will really work. The truth is that it is the only thing that will heal our world. What is it? You know it. Jesus said, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you” (John 13:34). This love is what will heal you, me, this country, and this world.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5).

Let us pray: O Lord, our hearts break with your heart when we hear the news of children and adults killed at schools. We cry out with fear, anger, and despair. Lord, comfort those who have lost loved ones. Strengthen law enforcement officers and public officials. We also pray for the family of the perpetrators. This is Advent, the season where we celebrate your light coming into this dark world and your love becoming flesh in the midst of our mess. We need you to come once again and en-able us to reflect your light so the world will know that you are stronger than death and more loving than hate and nothing will be able to separate us from you. Amen.

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., Mission Possible!: Cycle B sermons for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany, by Charley Reeb