Isaiah 9:1-4; Psalm 27:1, 5-13; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23
Gloom. Darkness. Deep darkness. Death.
On August 5th 2010 a mineshaft partially collapsed in northern Chile, trapping 33 coal miners more than half a kilometer below the surface of the earth. For us Americans that’s roughly 622 meters, 2,040 feet, 680 yards, almost 7 football fields. A two day’s supply of food was all that they had to survive on. It was two weeks before searchers were even aware that trapped miners were still alive.
Anyone familiar with coal mining will tell you that no matter how many safeguards are in place coal mining is an extremely dangerous job. Coal miners have died for decades, even centuries, in places like West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Great Brittan, China, Chile, the world round. The news is filled with mine collapses and explosions worldwide. 93 American coal miners die each year from mine accidents, and that doesn’t include deaths from Black Lung Disease, which is about 10 times higher.
It may not be the picture of Hell that painters and storytellers create, but being that far below ground in total, complete, and utter darkness would be Hell to me. Suddenly and completely losing sight – I can’t even imagine it. Then realizing that you’re trapped below ground, with minimal food, with no idea whether or not anyone knows or believes that you’re still alive – can you imagine waiting two weeks before you find out that someone is still looking for you?
For those next fifty-five days the world was glued to news reports about those miners. Could they be saved? Would they be saved? Was it possible? Was it probable? How many prayers could it take to save the lives of 33 miners?
Sixty-nine days, more than two months after the collapse, the first miner emerged from a two-foot wide hole in the ground into the blinding light of freedom… salvation. Within less than 24 hours all 33 were safe above ground.
The second man to reach the surface had the following to say about his almost three months under ground, his time in utter darkness: “I was with God and I was with the Devil; they fought me, but God won. He took me by my best hand, the hand of God.” The first man to reach the surface had this to say about his time in Hell: “We have lived a magical night, a night we will remember throughout our lives, a night in which life defeated death.”
There was no light in that mineshaft, and yet the light of God shone brightly among those miners; there was utter darkness and yet the Son showed them the way to salvation, tunnel or no tunnel.
As Isaiah says today, literally true for the miners, “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.” As Matthew quotes from these same verses of Isaiah in his Gospel, “the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.”
Isaiah, and Matthew who is quoting Isaiah, are not talking literally about people walking in darkness. There is darkness in our lives, physical darkness for a few, emotional and spiritual darkness for many from time to time. So much darkness…
There’s the darkness of an abusive relationship – wondering which person you’re going to wake up to in the morning, wondering if anyone notices the bruises you’re hiding; wondering how to keep a simple conversation from becoming an explosion of anger and an excuse for a beating; wondering how a person you love and who seems to love you can treat you that way and why you just can’t seem to walk away and save yourself.
There’s the darkness of addiction – wondering what you will do today to satisfy that demon; wondering how low you will sink before you can’t keep the lies and the truth straight anymore; wondering how that voice in your head that should be taking care of you can make such ridiculous rationalizations about the power your addiction has over you; wondering how many people you’ll hurt today because they get between you and your next fix?
There’s the darkness of suffering in the body from chronic pain or a life threatening disease – wondering how you can possibly get through another day of such debilitating pain; wondering how you can stand the treatment for your disease that is going to ravage your body with a cure that almost seems worse than the disease; wondering how your entire life seems to have shrunk down to just getting through another day?
There’s the darkness of growing old – hair that loses color; skin that loses tone; a body that slowly loses strength and agility and balance; fingers that slowly lose their dexterity; degrading sight and hearing that has slowly tuned you out of the world around you; a mind that slowly loses memory and sharpness?
There’s the darkness of mental illness – wondering how you trust others enough to get treatment when your own mind tells you that there’s nothing wrong with you; wondering how you stay with your treatment when it means handfuls of pills every day and hundreds of dollars of prescription drugs every month for the rest of your life; wondering how you stay with your treatment when your own mind tells you “I’m stable now, I don’t need these chemicals and their side effects any longer; wondering how these treatments can be good for you when you feel like you don’t even know who you are anymore?
There’s the darkness of grief – wondering how you can possibly continue living with such a large hole in your life; wondering how you can get out of bed in the morning when a part of you has died; wondering how the world keeps spinning when your life feels like it has ended; wondering how you can live in a world that isn’t crippled by pain like you are, a world that expects you to ‘snap out of it’ at some point and just be happy again?
There’s the darkness of losing your faith – wondering what happened to that warmth you once felt toward God; wondering why the Holy Spirit seems to have abandoned you; wondering why the prayer and worship that once was the bedrock of your relationship with God seems to have become dry and lifeless, leaving you to wonder if it ever really existed before at all; wondering why God has abandoned you utterly.
There’s the darkness of poverty, the darkness of imprisonment, the darkness of fear, and on and on and on.
But the Good News from scripture today is not about darkness. This is the season of Epiphany, and Epiphany is a season of light. Epiphany is about a light that leads three wise men to a manger, and the light that shines out from that manger dulls every other light in the cosmos by comparison. Epiphany is about the light that calms stormy seas and rebukes even the wind. Epiphany is about the light that breaks the yolk across your shoulders and takes away your burdens. Epiphany is about the light that breaks the rod of your oppressor and frees you from the slavery of abusive relationships and addictions. Epiphany is about the light that sooths your pain and destroys the power of fear that disease holds over you. Epiphany is about the light that makes all things new again even in the midst of age and decay. Epiphany is about the light that heals a troubled mind. Epiphany is about the light that brings comfort even in the midst of utter despair and hopelessness. Epiphany is about the light that makes way for a new foundation of faith that’s waiting to fill your heart. Epiphany is about the light that says, “I know you because I made you, and my love for you will never end.”
And who is this light our season of Epiphany works so hard to honor? As Paul reminds the Corinthians the true light is not me, it’s not you, it’s not Paul, it’s not Apollos, it’s not even Peter; the true light that has come to bring salvation is Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, the Word made flesh, the very Son of God.
The Good News today is that the light called Jesus Christ is waiting to shine in your heart and in mine; all we have to do is invite the light in, let Jesus Christ take control of our hearts, let the Word made Flesh be our pilot not our copilot, let the Price of Peace be the GPS that points us to salvation.
The Good News today is that Jesus the true light is not just calling to Simon Peter and his brother Andrew, and not just calling to James and John the sons of Zebedee. Jesus our true light is calling directly to you and to me when he says, “Follow me – I will send you as a light to the nations; I will make you fish for people; I will give you peace the world does not give you; I will give you rest.”