"The Light in the Darkness" Christmas Eve

I had some fun with the sermon tonight.  When the Scripture lesson was finished, all the lights in the Sanctuary went out, except for the Advent candles and the candles in the windows.  I preached the first move of the sermon in the dark.  When I began the second move, I lit my candle in the Christ candle, and the spotlight came on to light the empty cross at the front of the Sanctuary.  For the third point, all the lights came on in the Sanctuary.  It was really cool to preach the first part of the sermon in the dark.  I had a really neat view of the congregation.  I wonder what the congregation saw as they looked toward the front of the Sanctuary and the live manger scene in the dark?

I also preached without a manuscript, so what was preached may or may not be reflected by what follows!

"The Light in the Night” December 24, 20154; FPC, Troy; Christmas Eve; Matthew 2: 1-2

Move 1: Darkness

The dark can be unsettling.

Children are often afraid of the dark.

They go to bed at night and crack their doors so that light from the house filters into their rooms.

Or they have night light.

The light a comfort in the dark.

Even adults can be afraid of the dark.

We leave a light on when we are going to return home at night so we do not have to walk into a dark house.

What's the first thing you do when you walk into a dark room, feel around the wall for the light switch to turn on the lights.

Darkness and its eerie feeling goes back to even before the beginning.

In Genesis we are told that before the world was created, darkness covered the face of the deep – the formless void we call chaos.

The first ting God commanded? “let there be light.”

Light and darkness is a fairly common theme in the biblical texts.

The Gospel of John plays on the image of light and dark – if it's dark, then something bad is going to happen or total misunderstanding is a play.

In the light, good things happen.

We remember that on the night of the Last Supper, Jesus is arrested in the garden under the cover of night and taken away.

In the story of Christ's birth, the shepherds are out in the fields at night. They are there because if a thief wants to steal sheep, he stalks them at night.

Or in less biblical terms, there is a cartoon of Calvin and Hobbes. Calvin is Calvin is sitting in bed, darkness surrounding him, eyes wide open with fright. He says, "I think nighttime is dark so you can imagine your fears with less distraction."
We know what it is like to imagine our fears in the darkness of our lives.

The darkness of death as we imagine our own mortality or grieve the death of loved ones.

The darkness of disease.

The darkness of helplessness

the darkness of our doubts.

The prophet Isaiah said, “The people who walked in darkness...”

We know those people.

We are those people.

Move 2: But into the darkness God sends light.

Maybe just a little flicker.

The baby born in Bethlehem does not look like much.

A baby born to non-descript parents who cannot even manage to find a place to stay except out with the animals.

A baby who is flesh like we are .

A baby who grows up into a man who is not a warrior, but a teacher.

Not a great politician, but a healer.

Not a man who commands others, but a man who acts as a servant.

Not a man who conquers people with power, but a man who saves people with love.

The light that comes to alive in Bethlehem.

The light that the star in the sky will mark.

The light that wise men will travel great distances to see.

The light that will beckon the shepherds from the fields.

The light that comes to expose the darkness of our world.

The light we gather to claim tonight.

Move 3: This fall I read about Jeff and Bridget Tryskoski, a couple in Frisco, TX who turn their home and yard into a light festival every year.

It began when they bought their first home. They bought in a neighborhood with no homeowner association rules about lights; they bought a house with a huge front yard.

Jeff had always wanted to be the one who owned “that house,” the one that everyone came to see before Christmas.

They began in 2001 with 10,000 incandescent light bulbs. IN those days, they could not use the AC or the dishwasher during the four hours people drove by their house because it would blow a breaker.

Now, they have 85,000 LED light bulbs that turn on and off to the music that you can dial in on your FM radio as you drive by the house.

Their goal – to brighten people's lives.

Bridgette tells the story of Tinsel, 45-6, “One time the doorbell rang and a woman stood there. It was late – a half hour after the computer had automatically switched the lights off for the night. She had her kids in her care and the Trykoskis if they'd turn it all back on, just for a little bit. 'Please,' the woman said, 'we've just had the worst day. It would really help.'”

they turned on the lights.

Tonight we light our candles. One by one they will fill this sanctuary with light.

The light will fill us with joy and warm us with that feeling we get each year as we gather here on Christmas.

These candles, like the lights at the Trykoski's house, are only temporary.

But they remind us of the coming of Christ, the light that will not leave us. The light that will not be overcome.

The light shines in darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. Amen.