Sunday, January 5, 2020. Rev. Dr. Scott Ramsey, preaching.Scripture Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12

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SERMON TEXT

So Christmas

break doesn’t always turn out the way you expect.  And things don’t always turn out the way you

want.  This past week my family and I

were visiting my parents in North Carolina, when my dad ended up in the

hospital.  At first we worried that he

might be having a heart attack, but in time the doctors said that his heart

seemed fine. However, there was a mass on his pancreas that is now the subject

of our great concern. Final results from the pathology tests of that mass are

still coming – we expect them in the next day or two – but it seems possible,

and maybe even likely, that pancreatic cancer, and treatment for that, is in

our future. I share this with you this morning, because it seems pretty

possible that I may be somewhat distracted in the coming weeks, I may be more

weepy than usual, and especially as an only child, there may be some days when

I’ll need to be in North Carolina with them.  Dad’s in good hands with his doctors, and I do

not expect much interruption in my duties here, and I’ll be working closely

with the other staff, the Session, and the Personnel Committee to be sure that

things continue moving in a “decent and orderly” direction. But your prayers

for our family are very much appreciated during this time, and I’ll keep you

posted as we go along.

On

a more global scale, the conflicted relationship between the United States and

Iran has entered a new chapter, with assaults on an American airbase and the US

Embassy in Baghdad, as the US killed a high-ranking Iranian general who was

responsible for weapons and attacks that maimed and killed many American

troops, and there are serious concerns about more retaliation.  Impeachment proceedings are very much in the

air, and the conflict between our two major parties continues in its divisive

slog, all in the context of a highly fraught presidential election.  Bushfires burning in Australia are currently

covering over 23,000 square miles, roughly the size of West Virginia.  Our friends in the United Methodist Church are

poised for a significant split over disagreements about LGBT clergy and

same-sex weddings, and while church splits can be a way to resolve deeply held

differences, they are always painful.  There’s

a lot going on, and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed.

On

Epiphany Sunday, as we approach the 12th day of Christmas, the

church celebrates the revelation of the light of God in Jesus Christ.  This is the day when we particularly remember

the revelation of the light of Christ to the magi from the East, Gentile

astrologers who did not even share the same religious framework as Mary and

Joseph through the star that arose over the place where the child Jesus was

born.  What the texts of Epiphany want us

to remember is that the light does not shine in a vacuum; it shines in darkness.  And the child was not born into a plush and

padded environment; the child was born into

a context of threat, as King Herod was threatening violent death to all the

children who might threaten his grip on power.

When

Isaiah 60 speaks of darkness covering the earth and gloom covering the nations,

it doesn’t feel like that’s just poetic exaggeration. Whether we are talking about

crises or difficulties in our personal lives, or conflicts and warfare and

disasters in the lives of nations, biblical words about darkness can hit pretty

close to home.  Biblical texts tend to be

quite clear-eyed and grounded in reality.

But

our texts do not only speak of darkness, because the gospel does not only speak

about darkness, nor only about brokenness, nor only about illness, nor only

about sin.  Our texts – and the gospel –

speak of the light that shines in the darkness.  And because of the light, the darkness is made

bearable.  It is not quite so

fearsome.  It is no lon