Time to Put Down Our Candle Snuffers

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen & Church of the Incarnation, 

Jersey City NJ

December 25, 2014

Christmas Day

Isaiah 52:7-10

Psalm 98

Hebrews 1:1-4

John 1:1-14

Time to Put Down Our Candle Snuffers

            Merry Christmas!

            Last night we had two beautiful, though very different, Christmas celebrations.

            At the early service, the children of St. Paul’s and Incarnation, directed by Gail Blache-Gill, did a wonderful job telling the story of Jesus’ birth in the Christmas Pageant.

            And then at 10:00 we had an amazing service filled with glorious music as we celebrated the birth of Jesus, the birth of Emmanuel, the arrival of God-with-us.

            We celebrated incarnation - the mind-blowing idea – the most amazing gift – that in and through Jesus, God has become one of us.

            These were both big and kind of complicated services and there’s always the possibility that there will be mistakes – a child will develop stage fright, a singer will miss a cue, a musician will play a wrong note, the priest loses his place in the book, an acolyte or Eucharistic Minister drops something.

            Truthfully, there were a few little things that didn’t go quite according to plan but, fortunately, no big mistakes last night.

            Sometimes things go wrong at regular services, too.

            One of the most common is when an acolyte or worship leader has trouble putting out a candle.

            This has happened to me and I know it’s happened to some of you.

            Maybe you’ve seen this happen.

            They hold the candle snuffer over the flame for a moment or two. They think the candle is extinguished. They lift the snuffer and, wouldn’t you know it, the flame still flickers.

            I know this can be upsetting, embarrassing, to the person trying to extinguish the candle but I have to admit I kind of like when it happens.

            First of all, it’s a little funny.

            But, it kind of moves me because it reminds me of one of the verses I just read from the Gospel of John:

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

            If you were here last night, you’ll remember we heard the familiar account of Jesus’ birth in the Gospel of Luke.

            Luke sets the story in a particular time and place.

            Augustus was emperor of Rome and Quirinius was governor of Syria. There was a census so a heavily pregnant Mary and her husband Joseph return to his ancestral hometown of Bethlehem where Mary gives birth in circumstances primitive even for First Century Palestine.

            There was no room at the inn so Mary gave birth in a stable or maybe a cave.

            Mary placed her newborn son in a manger, a feeding trough meant for animals.

            The angel announces the birth of the Son of God not to the leaders of Bethlehem, not to the wealthy and well-connected, but to the poor, probably quite stinky, shepherds who later glorify and praise God for all they had heard and seen.

            Luke gives us a detailed story of incarnation. God has become one of us in Bethlehem.

            This morning we heard another take on the birth of Jesus, this time from the Gospel of John.

            John doesn’t get into the earthy details of Jesus’ birth.

            Instead, John pulls way back and goes as wide as can be imagined, taking a cosmic view of Jesus’ birth.

            He echoes the story of creation in the Book of Genesis, opening his gospel with, “In the beginning.”

            “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…”

             For John the “Word” is God’s creative power.

            John writes, “All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.”

            John concludes this part of the gospel, called the Prologue…”And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as a of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”

            The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

            Incarnation.

            But, John uses two other images - light and darkness – and looks ahead to Jesus’ life and ministry, hinting at Good Friday and Easter.

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

            The Word became flesh and lived among us, yet, for the most part, people just like us rejected Jesus and some turned against him, finally nailing him to a tree.

            But, John knows – and, in our hearts, we know - that the darkness did not – cannot – overcome the light.

            In my sermon last night I talked about how the world is a mess. As the Prophet Isaiah writes, “Darkness covers the land and deep gloom enshrouds the peoples.”

            There’s a mess right here in Jersey City where so many people live in fear and despair, where the gap between the rich and the poor grows ever wider.

            There’s darkness right here that we saw at last week’s homeless memorial service where Old Bergen Church was packed with homeless people looking to pray, looking for warmth, looking for a good meal, looking for hope.

            And, of course, there’s the deep gloom in many of our own lives – our dread and regret, our envy and selfishness.

            Yet, even in the biggest mess – especially in the deepest gloom - Christ is right there – right here – with us.

            The light shines in the darkness.

            But, so often, we get so wrapped up in our own stuff or we feel so unworthy or sad or angry that we turn away from the light. We close our eyes to the light.

            And, sometimes, we are even like an acolyte holding a snuffer, trying to extinguish the light.

            But, the good news this Christmas – the best news ever – is that we can’t.

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

            You know, here in church, eventually the acolyte – or somebody else - is able to put out the candle

            But, try as we might, we can’t extinguish – we can’t overcome - the light of Christ.

            So, let’s stop trying.

            My prayer this Christmas is that we will, at long last, with God’s help, put down our spiritual snuffers and stop trying to extinguish the light.
            My prayer is that we will be incarnation – that we will be the Body of Christ right here in Jersey City – that we will allow the light of Christ to shine in and through us, illuminating the darkness that is all around us.

            It’s time to put down our snuffers.

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

            Merry Christmas.

            Amen.