Text: Isaiah 9:2-7; John 8:12

Our friends down the road at Holy Spirit Lutheran Church celebrate Advent for six weeks, which means they’re starting Advent this week. This was something their pastor, my friend Katy, said kind of in passing at a clergy meeting recently and I didn’t ask how that actually works, or how you can just do that, especially if you’re Lutheran and there’re rules (I thought) about that kind of thing. But with the reading of this passage from Isaiah in worship, the selection from the Narrative Lectionary verse for today, it kind of does feel like the beginning of Advent.

This passage is almost synonymous with Advent because of how well known it is to many of us from its use in Handel’s Messiah. And I don’t know about your households, but in my home growing up, the second that Advent started, that record was on the record player. When I was a member of choirs, we were rehearsing it for Christmas programs. (And did I put it on the stereo while I was writing this? Absolutely!)

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.

We are indeed literally walking in darkness. Especially after the time change, it feels so dark so early. And when it rains, as it does more and more at this time of year, the light is dim and gloomy. And only getting darker and gloomier!

Last year at this time I was returning from the Grunewald Guild, where I had been both experiencing the privilege and joy of making art, learning new skills and ideas and living through the news of the election with a bunch of people I didn’t really know. I felt alone and was missing my own people and connecting to the communities that were and are most important to me.

I went for a walk in the dark the evening of November 5th or 6th, after the election results dropped. I walked down to the river that runs through Plain and I cried and felt homesick for my family. I also noticed that the bridge spanning the river was decked in Christmas lights. At the beginning of November! 

I have to admit I have been a big humbug about Christmas decor before December. No decorations until Advent! But that all changed with seeing those lights on that darkest of dark nights. I was keeping a little journal of each day and after I returned from my dark walk I wrote down some commitments for myself for when I returned. 

They included:

• Finally send that email to the neighbors (I’d taken on following up from a summer potluck to share contact info and still hadn’t – oops)
• Be creative and active every day.
• Invest in relationships.
• Go to spiritual direction.
• Put up with Christmas lights immediately because it’s [bleeping] DARK and we need more JOY. (but I didn’t use ‘bleeping’. Read into that what you will!)

And I drew a picture of the bridge with the lights strung on it. And I mostly followed through on those commitments and I did put up the lights. And I’ll tell you what: The lights are up on my house this year already too.

I decided last year that if I could literally bring a little light into the darkness of the world, a little joy and cheer to my own heart, a light will shine in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it. When I walk through the dark of night I want to come home to joy.

I actually like the translation of Isaiah 9 that the Messiah uses. While we read from the CEB, “those who lived in a land of deep darkness” and NRSV uses “land of gloom,” Handel’s baritone sings, “they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.”

I like it because 1) I think it accurately reflects the Hebrew words, which are the same as the ones in Psalm 23: though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil for you are with me. And 2) I think it accurately reflects the experience of the people in question.

Last week, when we read the prophecy of Amos, speaking to the oppressors of the weak, the rich growing richer at the sake of the poor, Israel and Judah were experiencing a time of unprecedented stability. This passage comes from a time, several decades later, when that stability has fallen by the wayside. 

King Uzziah has died. The two kingdoms are at odds. There is a threat of invasion by the Assyrians to the north. The northern kingdom, Israel, is looking to join up with Syria in a rebellion. Isaiah is in the south and urging King Ahaz (the new guy) to hold out for peace. But people are fearful and their nations are in chaos. No one knows what is going to happen. They feel as if they may indeed be walking in the shadow of death. 

Again. Relatable content. We see war proliferating. A ceasefire that is no ceasefire at all. Attacks on ships in the Caribbean. Attacks on folks in our own streets and cities! Isaiah is here to say: Hope may not yet visible but in only a short time we will see it! God walks with us!

The prophets in the Hebrew Bible use this writing/preaching technique called “prophetic past.” Which is what Isaiah is doing here, when he says, “the people walking in darkness have seen a great light.” He is so absolutely sure of God’s deliverance and justice that it’s as if it has already happened. It’s just that it’s in the future, so we haven’t gotten there yet.

So when Isaiah says, “The yoke has been broken.” or “They rejoice before you.” He is talking about a future of such certainty that it practically already is.

There’s also something very advent-y about that. We, who are followers of Jesus understand what it is to know with certainty that Christ is is with us, that we have a place in the kingdom of God, and yet we await the incarnation each year and we await his coming always. 

Isaiah proclaims, 

 …a child has been born for us,
    a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders,
    and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Great will be his authority,
    and there shall be endless peace..

When he say this he is not anticipating Jesus. He is almost certainly talking about Hezekiah, whose rule would indeed bring peace and prosperity. Like other prophets before him, he is using the naming of this person say something about his understanding of God. A possible translation could be: The Mighty God is Planning Grace; Eternal Father a Peaceable Ruler.

These many thousands of years later (about 2600), we do have the advantage of knowing that Jesus came as a promised child, given to us full of authority. That he is the Prince of Peace and Wonderful Counselor. He said to his disciples, as we heard, “I am the light of the world. The one who follows me will never walk in darkness.”

I do see some glimmers of light and hope in recent elections. But I do not trust in the leaders of this world, no matter how much I like them and am happy they were elected. I do trust in Jesus. I do trust in God the people of God. I do trust in those who seek good, do justice, follow the way of peace, walk in the light.

Long ago, as a camper at Camp Shekinah in Saskatchewan, we learned a song that I’ve never encountered at any other camp, even Mennonite camps, and I’ve been to a few. It started with the low voices singing,

Walkin’, waaalkin’, walkin’ in the light. 

Walkin’, waaalkin’, walkin’ in the light.

Then the higher voices would join in, 

Walkin’ in the light, oooh.

We can trust each other, oooh. 

Walkin’ in the light, we can see ourselves, 

walkin’, walkin’ in the light.

And all together the verse: 

When we finally pull our heads (pop)

out of the sand,

there’s light and warmth and sunshine,

and it never is dark again. (2, 3, 4. Walkin’ etc)

I loved it. Especially the ‘pop’ sound after ‘pull our heads.’  And I still love the way it turns me toward that memory of singing praise with other people and celebrating the light of God’s love.

People of God, may we always turn toward the light. Toward the light of Christ that is warmth and sunshine. May follow the Prince of Peace and when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, may we know with certainty that Christ is the light of the world and of the path ahead. Amen.

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