Tag Archives: darkness

A sermon for Christmas Eve, midnight…

Christmas Eve Midnight Homily

On this holy night, we come to celebrate a story we know so well: a baby born in a manger, shepherds, wise men, an innkeeper and angels, and a light that shines in the darkness. A moment in history that we remember and celebrate all these generations later, because it changed everything.

John’s Gospel opens with an ancient truth: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Before time itself, before creation, the Word – Jesus – was with God, creating and sustaining everything. The very same Word that spoke the stars into being, that shaped mountains and seas, now enters our world as a vulnerable child. God, the Creator of the universe, comes to us not in strength, but in weakness, not in power, but in humility. Or, as one bible paraphrase puts it, the Word put on flesh and moved into the neighbourhood.

The angels, announcing His birth, sing of a light that has come to pierce the darkness of our world: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward all people.” They sang on that star-lit night, and they sing still today – Glory to God! Peace! Alleluia. Sometimes we join in, sometimes, mostly, we don’t even notice, but the angelic praise rings out, always, without ceasing. And they proclaim, ‘the light shines in the darkness. The darkness doesn’t win. Light has dawned. Light overcomes’.

And this light is not just a distant star in the sky. It isn’t even the dazzling dawn of sunrise. It is a light that enters our lives, our world — into our struggles, our fears, our brokenness. It is the light of God’s love that shines in the places where we need it most. As Isaiah says, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness — on them light has shined.” (Isaiah 9:2)

That light means no matter how dark our lives may get — whether we’re carrying the weight of personal struggles, feeling the pain of loss, or watching a world torn by conflict and despair — Christ’s light is brighter. It doesn’t erase the darkness, but it gives us hope in the middle of it. The light of Christ is not a promise that all will be easy, but that we are never alone. And that is the story, the true story of Christmas. That we are never alone – God is with us. Immanuel, God came near, God remains near, God is right beside us, within and without us, above, beneath, and always alongside.

In a world where so many feel forgotten, rejected, or helpless, the birth of Jesus is the ultimate reminder that God is with us — not as a distant, unreachable figure, but as one who knows our pain, who walks with us, and who calls us to bring that light into the world and shine in small but powerful ways: offering a kind word to someone in need, standing up for justice where there is inequality, reaching out to those who are suffering.

This year, I took all the leftover bits and pieces of discarded candle wax from church. Old tea lights and drips and scraps and I melted them down and repurposed them into new candles, as gifts. I thought it was a nice idea, and it was, but it gave a message way greater than just a sweet little new votive candle, even one made of holy wax.  

Just as a small candle can light a dark room, simply by being there, so the smallest acts of love and compassion can break through the darkness in our world. The truth of the incarnation, the truth of the readings we have heard tonight, is that there was once darkness, and now there is light.

Light has dawned and it has brought joy. It has broken oppression; this light brings peace and justice and righteousness. It has brought singing and salvation and beauty and honour, and incredible, undeserved grace and it has brought life, to all people. And this light – the light of Christ – shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot, will not, can never, overcome it. and the word, the light, became flesh and lived among us.

Tonight, we celebrate the birth of Jesus, the Word made flesh, who is the true light of the world. Our challenge, our purpose, is to carry that light to the darkest places of the world so it might simply shine – outshine the darkness. So, this Christmas, may we remember that Christ’s light is here to guide us, to give us hope, and to empower us to be light in a world that desperately needs it.

The darkness will not overcome it, because the light of Christ is stronger than any darkness we face. May the peace and light of Christ be with you always. Amen.

For God so loves…

Numbers 21:4-9                 Psalm 107:1-3,17-22         Ephesians 2:1-10               John 3:14-21

For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

Objectively, this verse is the most famous of all Jesus’ quotes. It is probably the most popular bible reference in the world. And a verse that elicits more than 2 million internet searches, month upon month. It is often described as the ‘bible in a nutshell’.  It features on signs at sporting events, on the underside of paper cups in a well-known American burger chain. In the Baptist church of my childhood, it was even the code for the burglar alarm – 43:16! And is a passage one is hard pressed to pass over, when it crops up in the gospel reading for the day. Truth be told though; I don’t love it. And spending a week studying it has forced me to consider why.

As I have read commentaries and sermons, so I discovered I’m not alone in this opinion. More than a few other preachers struggle with it too. Some write that they don’t like the ease with which it can be used as an exclusionary way of saying ‘I am in’ and ‘you are out’. And because it isn’t the whole message of God’s love for God’s world. And for too long, it has been used in more conservative contexts to highlight the doctrine of Penal Substitution, which says God gave His son to die on the cross, to take the punishment of the sins of the world; that Jesus died as an atoning sacrifice, so humanity could be reconciled to God.

And, as one commentary writer said, either we believe in a God who forgives, or we don’t. And if we subscribe to a belief in a forgiving God then we can’t also subscribe to penal substitution – because that isn’t forgiveness, that is atonement. If we believe in outrageous grace and unconditional love, we can’t also believe a price needed to be paid.

You see why I have struggled with this verse?! But I think it says three really important things. The first is this:

It says that God looks at the world and loves it, loves us, loves. God loves.

For God loved the world so much that He gave.

God’s heart, God’s opinion of the world is summed up in one word – LOVE. It is God’s love for us – for us all, for all God has created – that means we can be in relationship. Not blood sacrifices, not right thinking or believing or feeling – simply that we are the recipients of God’s love and grace. And that is enough.

As St Paul wrote in our epistle for today, ‘God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us… made us alive together with Christ – by grace you have been saved …this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God’.

The next thing we can learn is that this gift of love changes everything.

So here is an interesting thing; almost everywhere else in John’s gospel, the word “world” is used negatively — to refer to an entity that is at odds with God, even the enemy of God. So, in Jesus’ farewell discourse we hear that he is not of the world, we are not of the world, the world will hate us, just as it hated Christ…and so it continues. So, it is remarkable in this passage to find Jesus say God loves this God-hating world so much that God is willing to give the most precious gift God has, as God’s most profound act of love for this world. And this gift is so that the world might be changed and saved.

Not from a wrathful God, but from itself. From a place of darkness into a place of light.

And that is the third thing…

God sent God’s son as a transforming gift, from darkness to light.

Jesus came to a world that was hostile, but beloved of God, as a life-giving, love-proclaiming gift, and a source of unquenchable light.

And what did the world do? The world loved darkness.

The world loved darkness because darkness hides our actions, our meanness, our corruption, our wrongdoings. The world loves darkness because we can do what we want and not get caught.

So God, the brightest light of the world, the one who created light, sent a fraction of Godself, wrapped up in the skin of Jesus to bring light – the light of the world. Not to shame the world, not to trick the world into being exposed, but as an outrageous gift of love, to say ‘I see you, and I know you, and I still utterly adore you’. I can see what you are doing, and I love you. Don’t run and hide – you are loved.

And the world hated it.

Not the whole world, of course, but the people and places of power and evil – the systems and structures that needed darkness so their work could thrive and spread. They didn’t want light. They needed darkness to be able to function. So when they encountered The Light, they killed it. They killed the expression of undeserving, unmerited love – the gift of God – the true light.

But God’s love has never been destroyed. God’s light has never been extinguished. And in this generation and in this place, we are it. We are the light bearers of the God who loved the world so much. And that gift – that free gift – needs to be taken to the world’s darkest places and shone on the world’s most corrupt and dark systems, policies, and ruling forces so they are revealed and potentially redeemed in that blaze of light. And we are the hands and feet and voices and actions that carry it.

In our baptism, we were given the charge to ‘shine as a light in the world to the glory of God the father’ and that charge has never been revoked. We don’t need to chase darkness away – indeed, we cannot – we simply need to shine God’s light, that the world may know it is loved, and that we might be reminded that we are too.

So shine as a light in the world to the glory of God the Father.

Or as one of my favourite poets would say:

‘we step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid…

For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it.
If only we’re brave enough to be it.’

May we see it, may we be it and may the world be changed. Amen.