In the early morning hour Owen Rodericks prepares to take his first ride as a coal miner deep into the dark ground beneath him. The cage suddenly shoots to the surface with a jerk. The gate opens and in seconds he is jammed in with ten other men. A bell rings, and the cage plunges over 300 feet into the mine. Gasping for breath, Owen leaves the cage and staggers along through the darkness. His miner's lamp attached to his cap is the only light penetrating the darkness all around him. In these narrow tunnels he wonders if he will ever again see the light of day. But he learns to trust his miner's lamp, and gradually he masters the ways of underground mining. In time he overcomes his fear of choking confinement and follows this light until he returns to the surface and daylight once again.1
In this manner Ellis Wynne Roberts in his fascinating historical novel Flames And Embers Of Coal describes a young man's first day in an Anthracite coal mine. Most of us have not had such a frightful experience as this one; nonetheless, many people have their problems with darkness. Particularly at this time of year some of us feel the winter will never end. Longer periods of light cannot come soon enough for us.
At one time medical science did not take too seriously those of us who complained of the darkness and the adverse effect that it had upon us. But research has shown that many people do suffer during the winter months from what is now being scientifically described as seasonal affective disorder or SAD. To help people who suffer from SAD, researchers experiment with light therapy. By providing large doses of artificial light for prescribed periods during the day astonishing results happen. Light becomes a potent force in overcoming the winter blahs.
Also, on the larger world scene not a few forecasters view the close of the twentieth century in murky terms without much light. Exploding population, regional wars, lack of food supply and an increasing secularization of society make many people brood over the prospect for humankind as the twenty-first century is fast approaching. Some prognosticators have even begun to doubt that history has direction in terms of purpose and design. Perhaps the biblical promises of shalom, a new heaven and a new earth, are only fairy tales.
The writer of the Second Letter of Peter had to contend with the dark mood of despair and hopelessness in his own day. He knew that at one time the Christian community had been alert, looking for the imminent return of Christ, but at the close of the first century there was not much enthusiasm for the future. Perhaps the first apostles had been mistaken about the hope of a glorious future, or worse yet, perhaps God's promises were not really true. Everything seems pretty much the same as it has always been.
Most biblical scholars hold the position that the Second Letter of Peter was written by someone other than the apostle, probably by a disciple of Peter who was conversant with the life and thought of Peter and applied his teaching to the critical issues of his own later day. Confronted with the mood of skepticism concerning the last day, the writer is so bold as to affirm in clear-cut terms "the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." As evidence that the Lord will return some day, the author of this letter points not to "cleverly devised myths" but rather to "eyewitnesses of his majesty." In other words, his hope for the future is based upon historical reality.
Principally, he refers to that shining moment in Jesus' life when he was transfigured before James, John and Peter on the mount. During that extraordinary experience the three disciples heard a voice from heaven saying: "This is my Son, My Beloved, with whom I am well pleased." Hence, once and for all Peter and his companions knew that Jesus was unique. Even Moses, the lawgiver, and Elijah, the first of the prophets, were subordinate to him.
The author of this letter argues that the second coming of Christ is certain because the first coming of Christ, and the incident of the transfiguration story, are grounded in historical fact. The messianic words spoken on this occasion point to the fact that Jesus' words about the future can be believed. In a rather vivid metaphor the writer explains: "You will do well to be attentive to this as a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts." Jesus is the "morning star." He is the fulfillment of the Torah: "a star will come out of Jacob" (Numbers 24:17). He is "the bright morning star" (Revelation 22:16).
This word, "morning star," literally phosphoros, the bringer of light, is the one to watch and follow because eventually this star leads to the dawn of a new day. The author concludes his exposition by stating that the "prophetic message" confirms what the transfiguration story illumines: namely, that Jesus' return in glory is certain.
A caveat inserted at this point, however, warns the readers that a search of the scripture should not be "a matter of one's own interpretation." Already, too many fanatical apocalyptic teachers with their distorted visions of the future have deceived many of the faithful. Instead, the body of believers should be guided by the Holy Spirit through the apostolic witness. In so doing, they will see the light.
"Peter's" word is the one we need to hear as we come to the close of the Advent-Christmas-Epiphany season. As a worshipping congregation we can face the dawn of a new century with confidence. We have light to overcome darkness and hope to overcome despair. As we seek to live between the time of Christ's first coming in humility and his final coming in exaltation we have light to guide us. In Hendrikus Berkhof's splendid sentence, "The joy over the great Beginning removes all alarm over the delay in the End."2
The Transfiguration of the Lord places the inflection upon light; in fact, light permeates the whole Advent-Christmas-Epiphany season. What that means for us as Christians is that we have light for the living of our days. We have the light of the scriptures. We ignore the primary source document of the Christian faith at our peril. As we worship each Lord's Day we constantly return to the witness of God's great redemptive acts in history culminating in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. Through reading, speaking, hearing and acting upon this Word the good news is kept alive in each new generation. Further, we have the light of the church to guide us. John Wesley declared, "There is no such thing as solitary religion." John Calvin wrote in a similar vein when he said that for Christians to whom God is Father "the church may also be a mother."
In turning toward the future how we need the rich interpretation of both the historic and the contemporary ecumenical church! Not one individual or even one denominational family has the whole truth about the Christian hope. But, as we worship guided by the Christian year and listen together to the teaching of the scriptures, eventually our vision about tomorrow becomes clearer.
Still further, and most important of all, we have the light of Christ. Our primary hope is not based upon an abstract idea or a closed system or even a sacred book but rather upon a person, Jesus Christ, "the light of the world." He is the supreme light to guide us on our way.
In 1989 the movie The Mission played in local theaters. Although not a financial blockbuster by any account, it told a powerful message. Set in South America in the year 1750, the scenery, the sound track and the story itself combine to electrify and inspire the audience. A small group of Catholic missionaries have a dream of carrying the gospel to a tribe of native Indians who live high above a magnificent waterfall, on a plateau difficult to reach.
The movie begins with the Indians carrying a white man out of their jungle village tied on a cross. He is dumped into the rushing river heading for the rapids, and in a few quick moments the man hurls over the mighty thundering waterfall to his death on the rocks below. Undaunted, other missionaries go back to their work of scaling with ropes the almost perpendicular wall until they reach the plateau. This time the missionaries succeed. As the years pass by, they organize a closely-knit community of love centered in devotion to Christ. Down below, however, in the more "civilized" towns the Spanish/Portuguese government officially decides to rid themselves of "the Mission." They want the Indians for slaves. Finally, one day they make their move and brutally attack the Indians and their missionary friends. The devoted Christian community does not scatter, and a horrible massacre follows. The close of the film is memorable. After the soldiers have gone away, the fires simmer and go out.
In the last scene, as we are left stunned at what has happened, four young Indian children who somehow have escaped the holocaust get into a canoe and paddle away up the river to tell the dream to others some day. As people remain in the darkened theater, for a moment the story having ended, suddenly the following words from the Gospel of John flash on the screen: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it" (John 1:5).
Is this not the same light that "Peter" calls our attention to, "a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your heart"? In a word, look, the morning star!