Drawn to the Light--January 15, 2020

Drawn to the Light--January 15, 2020

"Arise, shine; for your light has come,

    and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you.

 For darkness shall cover the earth,

    and thick darkness the peoples;

 but the LORD will arise up on you,

    and his glory will appear over you.

 Nations shall come to your light,

    and kings to the brightness of your dawn.

 Lift up your eyes and look around;

    they all gather together, they come to you;

 your sons shall come from far away,

    and your daughters shall be carried on their nurses' arms.

 Then you shall see and be radiant;

    your heart shall thrill and rejoice...." [Isaiah 60:1-5a]

This morning, a scene played out that happens every so often in our house, especially on winter school days.  My wife's alarm had gone off, and even with my eyes shut I could still hear the sound of the water running in the shower. When I did slowly squint my eyes open, the darkness was cut in half by the sliver of light coming from the edge of the door from the bathroom into the bedroom.  And just that same change of the light was enough to awaken my son from his room, so that he got up as well and started stirring. So, the next thing I know, the first face I saw this morning was my son's, wandering into my bedroom and illuminated by the light that had awakened him.  

I had never really given that morning ritual much thought. It happens frequently enough, with some variation about which grown up is the first into the shower or which child is awakened by the light against the darkness of an early winter morning, that I haven't really thought there was anything to think about.  It's just "normal." But then I thought about this repeated routine we go through in our house against the backdrop of the words from Isaiah 60, and I see something holy in the way my son's illuminated face greeted my eyes this morning.

This is what the prophet sees--God turns on a light in the midst of the darkness, and people are drawn to the light...and in turn, they are illuminated by the light and shine as well.  Some of the faces drawn to the light are the lost and homesick exiles, scattered into Babylon and pulled homeward by God's radiance. They are like children looking for mommies and daddies in the darkeness before sunrise, and they find comfort by the familiar light of God's presence.  Some of those who are drawn in are outsiders, too--they are "the nations," who are pulled in toward the light just because something draws them.

It's funny to me--this homecoming scene that the prophet imagines is all God's doing, and it is all described in terms of the gentle power of light, rather than the coercive force of an army.  The exiles had been carried off, of course, at the point of a sword by the Babylonian Empire.  Their arrogant and narcissistic king Nebuchadnezzar did what the rulers of empire do, and he took and pillaged and destroyed, and he carried with him the best and the brightest of Judah's future as captives to live in his empire.  But when God calls the people home--and with them, all sorts of other outsiders from "the nations" beyond, too--God doesn't need an army to do it.  God doesn't need a sword or a gun or a missile or even the rattling of a saber.  God just turns on the light, and the lost and exiled ones are drawn to it, like children awakened in the pre-dawn darkness when a light goes on in Mom and Dad's room. They come walking home, and nobody needs to threaten or yell or kill to accomplish the homecoming.  God just turns on the light.

I wonder sometimes if we church folks, we Respectable Religious people, if we don't doubt that such power is enough for us.  We doubt that the light of God, which sends the message, "God is here... God is awake... you are welcome here" has enough power to bring people home who have felt left out or lost.  Whole industries have sprung up selling solutions for how to get more people into church, or what technology you need to have to make people want to walk in your doors.  And there's another set of cottage industries that specialize in just complaining that "things aren't like they used to be" and stir up the discontent that there aren't as many people around in churches anymore.  They seem to think that just complaining that "the church" isn't as prominent or powerful in public as they remember it was in some earlier generation will suffice, and that the real problem is that the church needs to have more influence with the powerful and more leverage in the political arena.  In other words, that the church needs to have more coercive power--and then, we'll be able to restore the "former glory" of "how things used to be" in our minds.  

But for those voices that think it is simply not enough for the people of God simply to let God's light shine and to let that light drawn people home, Isaiah here seems to think that's all God ever does.  God simply turns on the light, and we are drawn to it like moths to a flame, or like my children to the light from their parents' room that assures them someone else is awake, and it is safe to come in from the darkness.

What if this was really our mission and our message--that God is present, awake, and stirring in the house, and that all are welcome to come in out of the dark?  What if, instead of yelling or complaining that people don't treat the church like it's relevant anymore, we simply said, "This was never about needing to look important--our job it to quit blocking the light and opening the doors enough that the light gets out into the darkness enough to draw people who are longing for homecoming!"  What if we quit complaining that Christians don't get enough special treatment in society and instead only said, "God is here bringing life to this place, and we are all welcome to come into it!"?  And what if we stopped grabbing after prominence in important public places or selling out our integrity for the sake of a little more political influence, and instead just said, like Isaiah does, "Hey, everybody, rise and shine.  God has turned on the light--and there's a place for you in its warmth.  Come, just as you are.  Come, beloved children.  Come, children, arise."?

Like one of my favorite hymns puts it, "Morning dispels, gently compels, and we're drawn to the light of God."  That's it.  That's all we need.  And that is exactly what we have been given.

Draw us into your light, O God, and let it awaken us and make us to arise.