A reading from Isaiah.
Nonetheless, those who were in distress won’t be exhausted. At an earlier time, God cursed the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but later he glorified the way of the sea, the far side of the Jordan, and the Galilee of the nations.
On those living in a pitch-dark land, light has dawned.
You have made the nation great;
you have increased its joy.
They rejoiced before you as with joy at the harvest,
as those who divide plunder rejoice.
As on the day of Midian, you’ve shattered the yoke that burdened them,
the staff on their shoulders,
and the rod of their oppressor.
Because every boot of the thundering warriors,
and every garment rolled in blood
will be burned, fuel for the fire.
A child is born to us, a son is given to us,
and authority will be on his shoulders.
He will be named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.
There will be vast authority and endless peace
for David’s throne and for his kingdom,
establishing and sustaining it
with justice and righteousness
now and forever.
The zeal of the Lord of heavenly forces will do this.
Alright. Show of hands. Who’s afraid of the dark? Come on, now. Be honest. You know that feeling. That little anxious feeling that, even as an adult, arises inside when it feels like it’s too dark. Just a little too dark.
My fear of the dark began - as, perhaps, for most of us - when I was a child. Honestly, it was thanks to my brother. Like my dad, he was a big practical joker. Always messing with my sister and I.
In the early years of our growing up, my sister and I shared a bedroom. Each night, after the lights had been turned off, we would lie there in complete fear. One of things my brother loved to do was to crawl into our room on his belly. Slither under the bed. And then slowly reach this long, seemingly endless, arm up over the side of our bed and try grab us. We would scream. Move closer into the center of the bed in an attempt to get away from him. And, then, he would laugh. An evil, wicked laugh. As only brothers can do.
Darkness. It still scares me a little today. Maybe because it just feels so uncontrollable. So unknown. So. Dark.
Darkness was what Judah was experiencing in our text today. With the Assyrians breathing down the necks of Israel in the north, Judah was being pressured to enter into an alliance with Egypt and the northern kingdom. To try to defeat their common enemy. Or, at least, to hold them off even for a little while.
In the previous chapter, Yahweh warns Isaiah not to walk in the way of the wayward people. Isaiah is called not to fear what others fear. But to fear only Yahweh. Isaiah is called not to be in dread of what others dread, but to dread only Yahweh. The text in these preceding verses describes the plight of Yahweh’s people. Who do not “wait.” And who do not place their hope in their God.
Darkness becomes the metaphor used in chapter 8 to describe these people and their wayward experience. They will experience no dawn. They will be greatly distressed and hungry. They will look everywhere, but will see only distress and darkness. Gloom and anguish. Then, again, Isaiah tells them once more, they will be thrust into thick, thick darkness.
What is the plight of a people who live only in darkness? A people with no light? With no dawn? With no beginning again? With no hope? Darkness brings only gloom and despair. People walking in darkness walk with hesitancy and fear. Unable to find their direction, they grab onto nothingness as they see to touch something familiar. Something that will give them a perspective. That will help them along the way.
What are your dark places? Maybe it's the darkness of this pandemic, which once more, especially in other parts of our country and the world, is once again increasing. Maybe it's the darkness of our political world, where compromise has become a dirty word and leaders have become more and more polarized. Unable to truly lead as they have been elected to do. Or maybe it's in our economic life, where we are seeing mass resignations because, as many workers are saying, we’re tired of being treated so poorly for so little. Or maybe it's the darkness of our system of justice that never seems to work for people of color, but just perpetuates “whiteness” again and again.
Maybe the darkness is in your personal life. The darkness of failing health. The darkness of disintegrating relationships. Or the deep, deep darkness of grief and loss. The death of a beloved one. Or the deep grief we are experiencing over these past two years.
Or maybe the darkness is here. In the church. As we watch fewer and fewer people come in the doors. And it feels as though our way of being is dying a slow. Painful. Death.
What are your dark places? Those places where it feels as though there is just no hope.
I’m reminded of the opening verses that we began this lectionary year with - those beginning words of Genesis. “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep. The Spirit of God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light.”
Friends, God was there. In the dark. All along. Present in the darkness and chaos. Working to bring order and light. Perhaps the light then wasn’t for God. But for us. For “those walking in darkness” to “see a great light.” To see God’s saving action that begins in Genesis. And that we read here of in Isaiah. Where Isaiah names the darkness that will be no more. No more burden. Or oppression. Or tramping warriors. Or garments rolled in blood. Perhaps the light is for us today, too. To see that God has been and is at work in our world in the darkness and that, with the light, we can now finally see the saving action of God.
But, is there enough light to break through the darkness? To break through our apathy? Our cynicism? Is there enough light to cause us to ask ourselves once again whether it is enough to penetrate our darkness? Enough light that can shine in and redeem us?
According to Isaiah, yes. Salvation can come. The light is named. A child will be born, Isaiah tells the people, “for us.” The son is given, Isaiah tells the people, “to us.” This ruler to come is called: Wonderful Counselor. Mighty God. Eternal Father. The Prince of Peace.
Just as God created our beautiful and ordered world out of darkness. Just as God delivered Judah with a new king. So, too, God has delivered us through the light of Jesus Christ. Salvation can come, Isaiah says, because of the zeal of the Lord. What appears to be beyond possibility can be certain. God, through God’s passion and fury, with a great sense of urgency, will see that the light will come.
Isaiah found this to be true. May we. Amen.
Reign of Christ Sunday
Readings: Isaiah 9;1-7; John 8:12
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