John 1:1-18 · The Word Became Flesh
Light in the Darkness
John 1:1-18
Sermon
by Will Willimon
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“In him was life, and the light was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:4,5)

Even as we gather on this night in this peaceful, beautiful Chapel, there is a certain tension, isn't there? It is the tension within tonight's gospel: Tension between darkness and light. The child at Bethlehem brought light, but he was light into the darkness. We gather here, illuminated by warm candlelight, but outside, cold December night is falling.

The Carol we love to sing expresses this tension: 

The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years 
Are met in thee tonight.

We don't want to think about it, but in a sense Christmas has always been about dark streets and everlasting light. The streets of our larger cities have become haunting places of darkness -- a darkness which smothers, blights, and kills. Every city has become a place of escalating crime and drug infestation. Every town, including our own, has its seamy side…its contrasting light and darkness…its church spires and hymn­ playing carillons losing the battle to the porno palaces and drug pushers, dark streets where loneliness reigns and you can cut fear with a knife. People walk those streets with the slow shuffle of the down-and-out or else with the quick step of those hurrying to get back to their cars and to somewhere else. Where is the “everlasting light” in these dark streets?

Loren Eiseley tells the tragedy of a man in the 1965 blackout in New York City. Is he us? He was trapped by the sudden darkness on an upper floor of a downtown skyscraper. Seizing a candle from a desk in his office, he edged his way out into the corridor. Realizing that the elevators were not running, he searched about for a stairway. Sighting what in the dim candlelight appeared to be a small service doorway, he opened it and, holding his candle at eye level, stepped in. He was found the next day at the bottom of an elevator shaft, the extinguished candle still clutched in his hand.

Is that a parable of us, groping about with a flickering candle which is no match for a dark world run amuck? Our great technology brought to nothing in a power failure, a dead man clutching an extinguished candle at the bottom of a shaft in the dead of night.

We miss the point of Christmas if we fail to see that it has to do with precisely this kind of darkness. It is a pageant played out against the dark skies of a Judean hillside and the dark streets of a little town called Bethlehem. And if we follow the story all the way through, it ends in a garbage dump on the outskirts of the City of Jerusalem and the whole world in darkness....and the silent stars go by.

With all of our hopes and fears we sometimes forget that the world into which Jesus was born on that night so long ago was no utopia. It was a tough time and place to be born. The Bible sets his birth story against a context of poverty, unjust taxation, and the maniacal rule of King Herod. You can hear the jacknail boots of the Roman soldiers marching through Judea, drowning out Mary's lullaby. There were political maneuverings then as now. There were rumors of war, the economic picture was uncertain.

Go write a Christmas carol about that and suddenly Bethlehem doesn't seem so far away from our town. And so what? That things were dreary, dark, and difficult back then and still are today? For what is there to be thankful in that dreary recognition? I'll tell you. This is how God comes to us then and now. The hopes and fears of all the years...our hopes and fears...are still met in him.

We know about fears, but what about hope? Hope is not something that we conjure up when all our fears have been banished. Hope is that perspective that keeps us alive even when we are frightened, breathlessly rushing down some dark street we're not sure where, or tossing and turning all night but still determined to make it thought the night. Hope is born of our faith that God continues to work out his purposes in spite of the Herods of the world. We hope because we know that God is there, for us.

It's our dark streets and our dark hearts that this light comes shining.

Yet in thy dark streets shineth 
The everlasting light;
The hopes and fears of all the years 
Are met in thee tonight

Christmas is the proclamation that his Light and Hope still shine in the darkness which threatens to devour us. We no longer need feel trapped in a dark world, groping, trying to find our way with flickering candles. In this babe, the Light has shined, not only on our world, but in each of our hearts.

O holy Child of Bethlehem, 
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in, 
Be born in us today.

We hear the Christmas angels 
The great glad tidings tell; 
O come to us, abide with us, 
Our Lord Emmanuel.

Duke University, Duke Chapel Sermons, by Will Willimon