SERMON PREACHED BY

THE REV. PAUL MULLEN

AT

SCARBORO UNITED CHURCH, CALGARY

DECEMBER 24, 2007

    “Light in the Hungering Dark”

____________________________________________________

    A few months ago I woke up in the middle of the night and was headed down the hallway to the bathroom when I noticed that my study was being filled with a strange blinking blue light. I was puzzled as to what it could be. It wasn’t as bright as a regular light, but it was enough to fill the room with blue light. Well it seems in my barely awake grogginess that I had forgotten that I had a new computer and the light I saw which seemed quite bright was actually the light in the power button blinking on and off.  Darkness is not always as dark as it seems. Even a small light can drive it away.

    This morning I was glancing through the Letters to the Editor  in the Sun newspaper when a phrase in one of them stood out. I can’t remember the content of the letter, just the phrase “with the increasing violence in our society".  This stood out for me because I have read a number of articles which showed quite clearly that violence in our society is decreasing and it has been for more than 10 years. Darkness is not always as dark as it seems.

     Are there more or less wars in the world now? Those who keep track of such things point out that there are many less wars than in previous times in history, many less. This is perhaps the most peaceful time in the history of our planet. Yes, we can all think of terrible wars happening right now – Iraq, Afghanistan, Darfur to name only the most obvious. There are other rebellions and uprisings elsewhere. It isn’t that far back in human history though when the world was filled with warfare. Think of tribe versus every other tribe. Darkness is not always as dark as it seems.

    Contributing to the perception of darkness in the world is the role of the media. Ordinarily I try not to blame the messenger but media and advertisers do focus on what is wrong with life and what we don't have. They are in the business of selling advertising and bad news. Violence and controversy sell newspapers and the advertising in them.

    Advertising shapes our thinking. Where did we get the idea that Christmas means shopping?  Where did we get the idea that Christmas isn't perfect without the right gifts? Or that Christmas should be perfect?

    Personally I have arrived at the point in my life where I no longer expect Christmas to be perfect. Now I expect everything to go wrong, especially this year having just moved into a new house this past weekend. Expecting everything to go wrong enables me to cope with it when it does. And it does. It also means that I am seldom disappointed. And if I am disappointed and Christmas does turn out perfect, then I am delighted!

    And yet God doesn't know darkness. The Psalmist shares this insight about the nature of God in Psalm 139: 11-12, “I could ask the darkness to hide me or the light around me to turn into night, but even darkness is not dark for you, and the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are the same to you.”

    Darkness is real in life. It may not be as dark as we think but when violence and suffering are happening to us personally it is very real. Even if it happens only to a small percentage of people, when it happens to us it is one hundred percent.

    So what do we do with the darkness in life? Robert Fulghum, author of Everything I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, wrote another essay in a book titled,  It Was On Fire  When I Lay Down On It.

    When Fulghum was a younger man preparing for ministry in the Unitarian Church, he spent a summer in Greece studying Greek language and culture. He enrolled in a course taught by Alexander Papaderos who had founded an institute devoted to healing the wounds of World War II on the island of Crete. At the end of a two-week conference, Dr. Papaderos asked, "Are there any questions?" And Fulghum half-jokingly,asked, "What is the meaning of life?" Papaderos said, "I will answer your question," and he pulled a small round mirror out of his wallet. As Fulghum remembers this is what Papaderos said:

    "When I was a small child, living during the war [WWII], we were very poor and we lived in a remote village. One day, on the road, I found the broken pieces of a mirror. A German motorcycle had been wrecked in that place.  I tried to find all the pieces and put them back together, but it was not possible, so I kept only the largest piece. This one. And by scratching it on a stone I made it round. I began to play with it as a toy, and became fascinated by the fact that I could reflect light into dark places where the sun would never shine - in deep holes and crevices and dark closets. It became a game for me to get light into the most inaccessible places I could find. I kept the little mirror, and as I went about my growing up, I would take it out in idle moments and continue the challenge of the game. As I became a man, I grew to understand that this was not just a child's game but a metaphor for what I might do with my life. I came to understand that I am not the light or the source of the light. But light - truth, understanding,  knowledge - is there, and it will only shine in many dark places if I reflect it.  I am a fragment of a mirror whose whole design and shape I do not know. Nevertheless, with what I have I can reflect light into the dark places of this world - into the black places in the hearts of men - and change some things in some people. Perhaps others may see and do likewise. This is what I am about. This is the meaning of my life."

    And then he took out his small mirror, and holding it carefully, caught the bright rays of daylight streaming through the window and reflected them onto my face and onto my hands folded on the desk.

    Although darkness is not as dark as we fear, it is still very real. The hungering dark threatens to consume us and the world around us. It leaves us with a choice. We can be part of the darkness or part of the light. Being here, partaking this holy meal, we choose to be part of the light. We chose to take the light of Christ into the mirror of our hearts and let it shine into the darkest corners of the world.

    In closing, this poem by fellow minister Timothy Haut speaks of light in the darkness in a different way:

THE BIRTH

Christmas, 2007

The sky is a blizzard of stars

Swirling around a pregnant moon  -

All silent, shining stillness  -

Creation's breathless gasp

At the holy mystery hidden in the earth:

The latent life,

The root, the stem, the flower, the seed,

The child waiting to be born.

A coyote steps from the shadow,

Tiptoes into the street,

Peers up into the street light,

Seeks one of this night's mysteries, too

Perhaps a den of mewling cubs,

Or a restless rabbit for tomorrow's breakfast.

But tonight,

With his nose in the air,

And his ears pricked, erect, listening,

This wild thing may have heard

The gasp, the breathless joy,

The cry in the darkness

At that wondrous birth.

What is being born

Is a new, redeemed, resplendent world

Where all wild things will live in harmony,

Born in love for love,

The squirrel and the rabbit warm

Against the sleeping fox,

The vole and the chipmunk safe

Beneath the hawk's brooding breast,

All bound by love's gravity

In a great celestial dance,

Like sentient constellations

Giving out life, life,

Latent and brimming.

Not yet, this new world!

The wandering coyote thinks,

Loping into the trees,

Swallowed by the night,

By the lonely hunger.

Overhead, the great light streams down,

Dimming the streetlight's shallow glow.

The child is born.

It has begun, the great change.

Listen for it: 

The cry, the song, the silence.

Listen for it in the stillness, the quiet:

The peace, the peace.

Amen