Reflecting the Light
a sermon based on John 1:1-14 for Christmas Day
Rev. Brian K Eiss
Good morning, welcome, and Merry Christmas. It is not often that we have
the opportunity to celebrate Christmas Day and a Sunday morning at the
same time. We have spent a great deal of time preparing for today -
cookies, wrapping gifts, decorating. Together we hope that the world has
spent a little time preparing within for the coming of the Light of
Christ into our hearts. We begin today with a story.
Two cars were waiting at a stoplight. The light turned green, but the
man didn't notice it. A woman in the car behind him is watching traffic
pass around them. The woman begins pounding on her steering wheel and
yelling at the man to move. The man doesn't move. The woman is going
ballistic inside her car, ranting and raving at the man, pounding on her
steering wheel and dash.
The light turns yellow and the woman begins to blow the car horn, and
screams some choice words at the man. The man, looks up, sees the yellow
light and accelerates through the intersection just as the light turns
red.
The woman is beside herself, screaming as she misses her chance to get
through the intersection. As she is still in mid-rant she hears a tap on
her window and looks up into the barrel of a gun held by a very
serious-looking policeman. The policeman tells her to shut off her car
while keeping both hands in sight. She complies, speechless at what is
happening. After she shuts off the engine, the policeman orders her to
exit her car with her hands up. She gets out of the car and he orders
her to turn and place her hands on her car, then handcuffs her and takes
her to the police station where she is fingerprinted, photographed,
searched, booked, and placed in a cell.
After a couple of hours, she is let out of the cell and escorted back to
the booking desk where the original officer is waiting with her personal
effects. He says, "I'm really sorry for this mistake. But, you see, I
pulled up behind your car while you were blowing your horn, flipping the
guy off in front of you, and cussing a blue streak at him. I noticed the
'Choose Life' license plate holder, the 'What Would Jesus Do?' bumper
sticker, the 'Follow Me to Sunday School' bumper sticker, and the chrome
plated Christian fish emblem on the trunk. Naturally I assumed you had
stolen the car from a real Christian."
That story runs the risk of making us think that we are not allowed to
fall short or give in from time to time, but what it does show is that
light is important. Go all the way back to the beginning of that
illustration and it all begins with not noticing the light, the traffic
signal that gives us direction. We lit the tree las night on Christmas
Eve because the light has come and wants to give us direction. We lit
the candles on the ends of each pew last night because the light has
come and wants to give us direction. We lit the Christ Candle in the
center of the Advent wreath last night because the light has come and
wants to give us direction. Light gives us the ability to see, function,
and take care of our daily tasks. Rainy gray days have a profound effect
on our mood making us feel sluggish and bland. Bright sunny days give us
a pop and jump to our step.
A few months ago I was called to perform a funeral service for a members
father and I set up a time to meet with the family and plan the service.
While we were choosing the readings, the daughter said something to me
that I will never forget. She said, "we have to read psalm 23 and not
because it is always read at a funeral, but because I am in the shadow
of death only because the light of Christ is shining." I pondered her
statement for a moment, then smiled at the revelation that she laid
before me. The only reason that there is a shadow of death is because
the light of Christ is shining causing the shadow. A simple step in
either direction places us back into the glorious light of God.
John Ruskin lived in the days when English villages were lighted by
lamps along the street. One evening, he watched with a friend as a
lamplighter moved slowly on a distant hill, lighting the lamps along the
street. Ruskin said, "There is what I mean by being a real Christian.
You can trace his course by the lights that he leaves burning." It is
our job to keep the lights burning. [1]
Today we celebrate the light from the star, the light from the manger,
the light that John reminds us to pay attention to. "He came as a
witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might
believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the
light. The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the
world." (John 1:7-9) John the Baptist told us the light was coming. God
has given us light to see our way. Not only to see our own way though,
but to spread the light of this day, the light of Christmas to the world
around us. Edith Wharton once said, "There are two ways of spreading
light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it."
We are not the light just as John the Baptist was not the light, but we
certainly can reflect it. "One of the best short essays written in this
century was one by Robert Test, written during his lunch break. Test had
only a high school education but felt so passionate about something that
he penned this essay. It is entitled 'To Remember Me,' and it has been
widely reprinted. But not enough.
"At a certain moment, a doctor will determine that my brain has ceased
to function and that, for all intents and purposes, my life has stopped.
When that happens, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my
body by the use of a machine. And don't call this my 'deathbed.' Call it
my "bed of life," and let my body be taken from it to help others lead
fuller lives. Give my sight to someone who has never seen a sunrise, a
baby's face or love in the eyes of another. Give my heart to a person
whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain. Give my
blood to the teenager who has been pulled from the wreckage of his car,
so that he might live to see his grandchildren play. Give my kidneys to
one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week. Take my bones,
every muscle, every fiber and nerve so that someday a speechless boy
will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf girl will hear the sound of
rain against her windows. Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes
to the winds to help the flowers grow.
"If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses and all
my prejudice against my other humans. Give my sins to the Devil. Give my
soul to God. If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind
deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all I have asked, I
will live forever. [2]
We have a chance today to take Christmas with us. Not that we can remain
in the Christmas Spirit for very long without burning ourselves out, but
we can take the light with us so that the light of the star that lead
the shepherds can reflect from us throughout the year to come. Somewhere
along my journey in life, and I cannot confirm this fact, but I remember
being told by a science teacher that a star flickers in the sky because
it is generating light and planets shine because they are reflecting
light. It is up to us to reflect as much of this Christmas light so that
the world shines with his light through us.
An ancient rabbi once asked his pupils how they could tell when the
night had ended and the day was on its way back. "Could it be," asked
one student, "when you can see an animal in the distance and tell
whether it is a sheep or a dog?" "No," answered the Rabbi. "Could it
be," inquired another, "when you can look at a tree in the distance and
tell whether it is a fig tree or a peach tree?" "No," the Rabbi replied.
"Well, then, what is it?" his pupils demanded.
The wise old teacher responded with words of immense wisdom: "It is when
you look on the face of any woman or man and see that she or he is your
sister or brother. Because if you cannot do this, then no matter what
time it is, it is still night." [3]
We have received the light today that pales all others. Emmanuel, God is
with us. Today, a baby sleeps. The promise of a redeemer fulfilled. For
now we revel in God's goodness and take his love with us when we leave
this place. The greatest gift ever given - a son is born, she named him
Jesus - we call him savior. Merry Christmas. Amen
1. Found on homileticsonline.com
2. ibid. "To Remember Me," by Robert Test
3. ibid.