Walking in the Light

Isaiah 49:1-7; John 1:29-42
Dwight Zscheile
January 20, 2008

It was the second-to-last night of 6th-grade science camp. The climax of the week, and the experience we most dreaded, lay before us. It was the infamous night walk. We were led up a trail into the mountains in the pitch dark by a camp counselor with a flashlight. Then he turned off the flashlight and sent us each alone to walk a long stretch through the woods. There was no moon that night, and I remember putting my hands in front of me, stumbling on the boulders, occasionally encountering the sharp bark of a tree, utterly certain that a huge cliff was right next to me and that I would fall off it at any moment.

I can’t even describe the relief when I made it to the end and joined the huddle of other victorious kids, the survivors. We had made it! Each of us had in our minds a picture of what the terrain looked like that we had just passed through. And each of us was surprised the next morning, when we were taken back to the same spot to walk the trail in the daylight. Things were totally different than I had imagined. The cliff wasn’t where I thought it was. There was a large embankment instead. I saw some big rocks—and it was a miracle I didn’t fall headlong into them. Reality turned out to be quite different from what it seemed in the dark.

I had a similar experience when I came to know Jesus Christ: the experience of looking back on the terrain that I had crossed previously in my life and seeing it illuminated differently and more clearly. I saw the truth of how certain actions of mine had hurt people I cared about. I could see myself more accurately, and I realized how self-serving and judgmental I had been. I had been stumbling blindly in the dark for years and didn’t know it.

This season of Epiphany is a time when we reflect upon the light that is Christ and how that light illuminates our world. We heard from our first reading in Isaiah the ancient promise to Israel, “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” God’s longsuffering relationship with Israel was not just for its own sake, but in order that the whole world would come to know God’s light. 

Christians believe that promise was fulfilled in Jesus and is being fulfilled in the life of the church—the body of Christ. Jesus came not just for one ethnic group or culture, but to communicate God’s love and grace to all people, in every culture and language. That communication is not coercive—erasing the richness and integrity of those cultures—but rather taking root and flourishing with them, so that their full promise may be revealed.

We hear in John’s Gospel how the first of Jesus’ own disciples began as disciples of John the Baptist. They were seekers who were restless with this world as it was and wanted to change their lives, to live more deeply and truly. John the Baptist points them to Jesus, who asks, “What are you looking for?” It is a great question for seekers of any age.

The answer is fascinating to me. The disciples can’t put their yearnings or hopes into words, but they recognize that Jesus has the answer. Yet he is a teacher from whom they can only learn by dwelling with him. They ask, “Where are you staying?” He responds, “Come and see.” To those who might assume that you can distill the essence of Jesus’ message into a set of principles and sever them from the person of Jesus himself, this text suggests otherwise. To be a student or learner or disciple of Jesus is to abide with him. To walk in the path he illuminates with his presence.

In Epiphany, we have received the light of Christ. One of the reasons Jesus met such opposition, it seems to me, is that he constantly confronted people with the truth about themselves. He did not deal in deceit and delusion. He had the courage to be true and call others to truth. This has never gone over well in human society. Lies seem more expeditious, as some of the low moments of our presidential campaign season remind us.

We have received the light of Christ. Our first step then, is to let that light illumine our own lives. Where are you today in your relationship with God? Are you far or near? Have you drifted or turned away? Are you listening for God’s call in your life or fleeing from it? Are you using the gifts God’s given you to his glory? Are you in right relationship with your family, friends and neighbors?

We have received the light of Christ. It is not ours to hoard, but to give away. A little bit earlier, John’s Gospel says, “What has come into being in [Jesus] was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” In a world of so much darkness and delusion, the light prevails. That is good news.

How is that light to be communicated, to be shared? Jesus said, “You are the light of the world. No one puts a lamp under a bushel basket.” Indeed. I fear we in the Episcopal Church in particular have kept our light under a basket far too often. We assume whatever illumination we receive from Christ is merely our own private matter. We fail to imagine how God might use us to communicate good news to our neighbors and our world. I want to challenge you to think of how you can give the light of Christ away in your daily life. This means both words and deeds, as our Baptismal Covenant reminds us.

At the end of our earthly lives, we will see the final truth of what we have been and of the path we have walked. We will see the cliffs and boulders for what they are, and most importantly, we will see clearly how well we navigated them. For some it will be quite a surprise, like me that morning at science camp. I don’t want there to be surprises for me. I want to see the truth now. 

In order to do so, I must draw closer to Christ—or rather, let him draw closer to me. I must take each step in his presence, even when the path is rugged and strewn with boulders, even when cliffs gape on either side. I must search his Word for guidance, and pray attentively. I must dwell with him in community in his body.

My prayer is that we may let the light of Christ into all our lives. And then give that light away. Amen.