Monday, May 27, 2013

The Correct Way to Use Spray Paint

Yes, I haven't blogged in ages. I can't promise that I'll be in better at blogging more often. I can only say that I will try.

Here's the sermon I preached this past Sunday. It's titled "Practicing Resilience" but, as it often happens, I titled it before I wrote it. A better title is "The Correct Way to Use Spray Paint."

“Practicing Resilience”
Philippians 4:1-14
May 26, 2013 ~ First Christian Church, Wadsworth, OH

In a sleepy little village a little over 3 hours from here in western New York, a community woke up to quite a surprise this past Monday morning. Someone or a couple of people had vandalized several of the buildings in the town of Randolph, NY. Buildings across the town were spray painted with graffiti. Many of the messages were malicious in nature. But one was clearly a cry for help.

Randolph, NY is a small town. Smaller than Wadsworth with only about 2000 people calling it home. There are similarities. It has several churches which seem to be at the heart of the community. One of those churches in Randolph is Grace Episcopal Church. It is a lovely Victorian style wooden building.

On Monday morning, Father Tom Broad the pastor of Grace Episcopal began his day like any other until he drove up to the church. There on the side of the building someone had spray painted in huge letters: Can I still get to heaven if I kill myself?

Other messages spray painted around the town were typical messages you would expect to find in graffiti: profanities, vulgar language, things I would not repeat. But, the message on this church was different. Who knows why someone wrote that on the wall of the church? Who knows what was going on in that person’s mind at that moment? Maybe he was just copying some lyrics from a rap song he knows. Or maybe he was asking a serious question.

Who knows? But, the question was now out there for all of Randolph, NY to see spray painted on the side of the church. And, the church had to decide what to do next.

Before I tell you what they did, I want to know. If you drove up to the church tomorrow and saw a question like that spray painted on the side of our lovely white church, what would you do? Would you be mad at the vandals? Would you call up the trustees, go to the paint store, buy a can of white paint to cover it up quickly? Or, would you answer the question?

Father Tom and the lay leaders of Grace Episcopal gathered together to discuss the problem before them. They asked themselves, “Was the person who wrote this suicidal or just being shocking for the joy of provocation, an adolescent equivalent of a toddler learning he can cause effect in his world by shouting, “No!”?

The people and clergy of Grace prayed and talked, then decided it did not matter, at least not that day. They also discovered that being angry, or feeling violated, or even scrubbing and repainting the wall were not the most important things they could do on Monday.

Instead, they spoke to the unmet need of those around them. They answered the question. They answered the shocking question, the “cry for help,” they found written in foot-high blue spray paint letters on the wall of their building.

The minister borrowed a can of spray paint from a neighbor. In green spray paint, in foot-tall letters right next to the question, he wrote, “God loves you with no exceptions.”

God loves you with no exceptions!

By doing so, Father Tom and the people of Grace Episcopal Church in Randolph also answered the implied question, “What do I need to do to be loved?” All that we need to do to be loved has already been done for us. [i]

(*If you want to see the pictures, please follow the links at the bottom of the page. For some reason, I can't get them to load.)

Imagine: in foot tall letters, using the side of this church building as a social media platform to express love and grace to someone who is in desperate need of help. What kind of impact do you think a message like that can have?

The church talked about the way to respond. Somehow a letter to the editor didn’t seem the right response. On the church’s Facebook page, Father Tom mentioned that the culprits probably wouldn’t read a letter to the editor. But they would see the spray painted answer on the side of the church building. The culprits would see it and so would so many others who drive by the church every day. And, also the hundreds, if not thousands of others who have seen it since it hit the internet.

Maybe it’s not the way you or I would respond to an act of vandalism like that. But I think it was a courageous way. And, I think it says a lot about the resilience of that small community. You see, the church only averages about 40 people on a Sunday morning. Like many churches, it is a small church with a once and glorious past that is facing an uncertain future. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have a message for the world around it. It does! A message filled with love and grace. But both the church and the people on the other side of the doors have become disconnected. In the words of Father Tom:

“I think people in our parishes sometimes think there’s Grace Church in Randolph, the Holy Land on the other side of the world, and nothing in between. This experience has opened us to all kinds of new questions in the local community and the wider world about how people become disenchanted with the church, about how they deal with their problems. We can’t help but pay attention.”[ii]

We can’t help but pay attention! That’s important and that’s what we need to do. We have to pay attention! We have to pay attention to what is happening around us. Grace church literally had a question written on the side of the wall that called them into action. It called them to notice that the world around it is in pain. That the world around it is changing. And, they decided to change with it. They did not change the essence of themselves or what they believe. Instead, they changed their form of communication in order to address a need in the community.

When Paul wrote the letter to the Philippians, he was in jail. The Philippians heard about his imprisonment. They had prayed for him and sought to help him. He was very grateful for their concern and their prayers and he shares with them the secret of his resilience: Rejoice in the Lord, give thanks, keep practicing the faith, and know that we can do all things with Christ who gives us the strength. That’s the secret to being resilient. Notice though that none of those answers were to stay the same. Paul learned fairly early in his ministry that he had to adapt his method of communicating the message depending on his audience. His message about God’s love and grace stayed the same. And, no matter how many times he was thrown in jail or threatened or was in distress, Paul remained resilient because he truly felt and understood that he could do all things with Christ at his side.

If someone spray painted a statement on the side of our building tonight, what do you think it would say?

Would it have the same question found on the side of Grace Church? It might. After the deaths of two teenage boys in our own community, that is a question many kids are asking.

Or, would the statement be something else about the poverty in Wadsworth. Or the drug use. Or bullying. Or hunger. What are the cries for help that our neighbors and friends, our youth and young adults are too afraid to say in public? What are the things that concern us all? And, what would our answer be?

When I started working on this sermon, I kept thinking about those “life comes at you fast” commercials. Even though things seem to stay the same for the most part, life can change pretty quickly. And, if we aren’t ready for it, those changes can overwhelm us. But, when we are prepared, change doesn’t have to overwhelm us. Paul’s surroundings changed all the time as he moved from location to location. He adapted to the different cultures. He kept his faith strong. Even when faced with prison, hunger, and death, Paul held on to his core values: the grace, love, and faith he had found in God through Jesus Christ.

Those are the same values the people of Grace Episcopal in Randolph, NY have. Those are the same values we have. The question for us is how do we share that grace, love, hope, and faith with a world that so desperately needs it? How do we reach beyond these doors into a world that looks vastly different today than it did 15, 20, 30 or even 50 years ago? Do we spray paint our message on the wall of the church? Do we live it out in our lives daily in profound ways? Do we find new ways to connect with those who think they are unlovable?

I don’t know the answer to those questions just yet. But I do know a place to start. Please pray with me: Holy and Loving God, we live in a world that seems to be changing faster than we can keep up. Sometimes, we need to see the writing on the wall to realize there are problems surrounding us. Lord, help us to see new ways to connect with those in need. Help us to be resilient in our faith even as we learn to respond to the changes in our lives and in our world that we face each day. We pray this in the name of the One whose love for us never changes. Amen.





[i] “Western New York: Randolph church responds to vandalism with grace,” Episcopal News Service, May 22, 2013 (http://episcopaldigitalnetwork.com/ens/2013/05/22/western-new-york-randolph-church-responds-to-vandalism-with-grace/). & Bob Fitzpatrick, “God Loves You in Randolph NY,” St. Anne’s blog, May 21, 2013 (http://www.stanneswashingtonville.org/2013/05/god-loves-you-in-randolph-ny/).
[ii] Elizabeth Drescher, “Vandalism as Conversation-Starter,” Religion Dispatches, May 21, 2013 (http://www.religiondispatches.org/archive/culture/7120/vandalism_as_conversation_starter/).

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

The Path to Jesus

The Easter Egg Path to Jesus

One afternoon after Easter I came home to discover this pathway made by my 5 year old. She constructed it using plastic Easter eggs from the town's Easter Egg Hunt. I asked her where the path went. She said, "It goes to Jesus, Momma."

"Tell me about that," I said.

"It's like that maze thing we've walked on before. You know, the one where in the center we can be close to God," she explained.

"A prayer labyrinth?" I asked.

"Yes!" chimed in my older daughter.

Many of us like to think that our children are innately spiritual. Kids do seem to have a more intimate connection to God than most adults. But, unless we nurture that connection, they will lose it. As children grow into youth and youth grow into adults, we seem to lose that intimate connection. We become more cynical, more rational, more down-to-earth realistic. We lose that ability to wonder, to imagine, to relate to the Creator in joyous child-like awe.

I love to see how my children connect with God through their play and laughter. We forget how to do that as adults because we are too serious. When we let go of the need to control life, God appears all around us, even in a pathway made with those annoying plastic Easter eggs. That's one of the many reasons why I want to be intentional about helping children and youth to stay connected to God through play and ritual, through love and laughter. When we deepen that innate spiritual connection to God as children, it gives us strong foundations for a lifetime of faith. Those strong foundations help to sustain our faith in adulthood when the storms of life try to tear them down.

My girls have grown up with labyrinths in their lives even before they were born. The church I served while I was pregnant with them had a rose and white laminate floor labyrinth in the Fellowship Hall. I often used it with my youth during youth group meetings. It was open to the public every Tuesday for individuals to walk. I know I walked that labyrinth while pregnant with them. I chased the older child around that labyrinth after church when she was a toddler. The movement in towards the center and out towards the world was a part of their prenatal experiences.

When we moved to Richmond to Union Presbyterian Seminary, we discovered an outdoor labyrinth just yards from our apartment door at the seminary's walking track. My 5 year old learned how to walk and run on that labyrinth. I cleaned up skinned knees from when they fell following its gravel path.

I'm not sure exactly how much praying either one of them has ever done while "walking" the labyrinth. They'd take short-cuts to the center, sit for a few minutes, get up and say, "Okay, chase me now!" Yet, when I came  home to see the plastic Easter egg path to Jesus, I knew they understood what the labyrinth was all about, finding God on the path of our lives. God is already there on the path waiting for us. We have to be intentional about noticing God's presence. We have to slow down sometimes to notice! That's why I love the labyrinth. It will even slow down a child long enough for her to feel God's presence, even if it's just for a moment.


Monday, April 9, 2012

The Critter and the Day of Resurrection


Maundy Thursday began in such an interesting way. As I was feeding my cat, she and I both heard a strange noise coming from the chimney. The damper was closed and wedged shut so there was no way anything was getting inside. But, the noise was spooky and it freaked us both out.

I ran upstairs to wake my husband. My parents were also visiting. So, down came the men to see what was going on. No one wanted to open the damper to let out whatever was in there. It would have been impossible to catch a bird if that flew out of the chimney. Or, most likely it was a squirrel. If one of those rushed out into the family room, I'm sure furniture and books would have gone flying as we tried to catch it. Imagine Chevy Chase chasing the squirrel in National Lampoon's Christmas. That would have been us!

Instead, we decided to leave it there and see if it could get out on its own. We put an end table against the glass doors to keep them shut just in case it got by the damper. Then we waited.

All day Thursday it continued to make terrible scratching sounds. Thursday night, it grew silent. When the sun came up on Friday, it began again. Were we just going to leave it there and wait for it to die?

That sounded like the only option available to us. Until I googled, "how to get a squirrel out of your chimney."

The suggestion I found was to put a rope down the chimney and wait until it climbed up the rope on its own. Since my husband is afraid of heights, my father climbed the ladder, dropped a rope down the chimney, and tied it down. Then, we waited.

We waited until Sunday afternoon. We hadn't heard any noise from the chimney since sometime on Friday. My dad climbed back up the ladder and untied the rope. Then, my husband slowly opened the damper to see if anything would fall out.

Nothing!

The chimney was empty!

Thankfully, the chimney was empty and whatever was in there managed to use the rope to get out! I thought a lot about this incident that paralleled the Easter weekend. The critter became trapped on Maundy Thursday. While it didn't die, it wasn't until Easter afternoon that we discovered it was free. It felt horrible to know that the animal was going to die unless we could find a way to free it. I am thankful that my dad was visiting so he could climb the ladder and tie the rope which enabled the critter to escape its potential tomb.

I hope you had a wonderful Easter Sunday filled with the promise of new life.

The tomb is empty! Thanks be to God!

Friday, April 6, 2012

The Old Rugged Cross


We were standing in a nursing home in Philadelphia, Mississippi wondering what we were there to do. The youth crowded near me as this was an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces. Volunteering in the nursing home was a little bit of a surprise for us. The mission trip's purpose was working on the Choctaw Reservation, painting houses. Not volunteering in a nursing home.

The residents were excited to see us. Fresh young faces. They smiled at the youth and began talking with them. Some of the youth opened right up as they realized the wrinkled faces were no different from their grandparents. Others were still unsure.

A man with a guitar showed up and began to play music. Soon everyone began to sing. We sang all kinds of songs: religious songs, funny songs, songs from their youth. Many of the youth joined in and happily sang along.

At one point, Tabitha reached over and tapped me on the shoulder. "Look at them," she said. I turned and saw an elderly couple sitting in the back. They were holding hands, obviously still very much in love. Tabitha said, "I want to find love like that. That is so sweet."

The song leader asked for requests and someone wanted "The Old Rugged Cross." I'm not sure exactly what happened next. Somehow, Caitlin and I ended up at the front singing a duet as we led the group in "The Old Rugged Cross." It went painfully slow as we sang all four verses. Caitlin looked at me with eyes that said, "Can't we speed this up?" We could only sing as fast as the accompanist played. It was almost as if Caitlin and I were killing Jesus ourselves.

Yet, as we looked into the eyes of the residents, we knew it spoke to them. It spoke of their faith they had nurtured their entire lives. A faith that was real and present to them as they faced the illnesses that plagued them in the present. A faith that gave them hope for the days they faced ahead. Especially the day that was closer to them than they wanted to admit. The day of their death.

As I prepare to sing this song in worship today, my mind returns to that nursing home in Mississippi. I see that couple who had experienced a lifetime of love and still held hands deeply in love with each other. I see a wrinkled face that found hope in an old rugged cross. I see the faces of youth who learned that love and faith are powerful ideals that can carry us through whatever we may experience in this life. I see hope that empowers us all that came to us from a hill far away. For that rugged cross on the hill far away, I am very thankful.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

The Sorrow

In those moments, when the sorrow descends and rests upon your heart, your whole world changes and it will never be the same again. At least that was the way it was for me when I heard the words, "I'm sorry but there is no heartbeat. Your baby has died." The sorrow comes like a thief in the night stealing the joy from your life.

I've thought about that day a lot recently as politicians have recently discussed women's health issues in the news. Once again, abortion is a hot political topic. Once again, birth control is up for debate. Honestly, these are both issues I thought were decided a long time ago. Why must it come up again and again?

I thought about that day as I read about Michelle Duggar's recent miscarriage. The sorrow she is experiencing is immense. I cannot even begin to imagine living it out on TV with all the world to watch. All I wanted to do was hide, to bury myself deep under the blankets and not come out until I could forget. The problem is you can't forget. Even now, eight years later there are days where I remember the pain, the sorrow, and the dreams that were lost. Even now, with two healthy children who are the light of my lives, I will always remember what might have been.

The sorrow, the emotions, and the reality of life is what always angers me when politicians use issues like birth control and abortion to "win" votes. These are not clear-cut issues with right or wrong answers. The answers here are as varied as the stories of the women who tell them. Listen to my story and see how recent politicians' viewpoints would have impacted me.

It was 2004. My husband and I had been married for 4 years. After much discussion, we decided we would try to get pregnant. Well, there is no trying for me. I'm about as fertile as they come and it didn't take long for the line on  the stick to turn pink. Yes! I'm pregnant. We were very excited. But we didn't tell anyone in the beginning. We wanted to wait until we were through that tricky first trimester. Well, we did tell our boss, the senior pastor, because he was leaving on sabbatical. We thought it might be weird for him to come back and find me 6 months pregnant!

Soon, after much anxious waiting and hopeful planning, I went to the doctor for a 12 week check-up. Only, as I lay on that table, she got a concerned look on her face as she felt my belly. Then, she tried to find a heartbeat. Her eyes grew darker. I could tell something was wrong just by looking at her. She said, "Oh, it might be nothing but we need to get you scheduled for an ultrasound." Only, that would take 3 days. Three of the longest days of my life.

When my husband and I arrive for the ultrasound, the tech is all cheery. Until he reads my file. He starts the procedure and finds a small fetus. But, it's so small he can't see what is going on with it. He turns to me and says, "Hon, I'm gonna need you to go get undressed because I need to do a trans-vaginal on you." "I'm sorry, but could you explain to me what that is first," I say to him. So, he does. And, I cooperate. And, yes, it is very uncomfortable. I WANT to know what is going on with this baby, but, I can not fathom any good reason why a politician would make a woman have one of these invasive ultrasounds before she chooses to have an abortion.

The trans-vaginal ultrasound does it's job. It lets us know that I have indeed miscarried. My fetus stopped developing at 8 weeks. Here I am at 12 weeks carrying a baby that has no heartbeat. A baby I had hopes and dreams for. But, it is gone.

Yet, it's not gone. It's still there in my uterus. The medical term is a "missed miscarriage." No one knows how long I could have carried that non-developing fetus in me. It might have stayed there for months had I chosen to let it abort naturally. My doctor said we could stay the course for about a week and see what happens. Or, I could have a D & C that very day. The sooner it happened, the better for my uterus. The longer this baby stayed there the more likely I could develop a serious infection. But the choice was mine to make.

The choice was mine to make. Not some politician in Georgia who says I should carry a dead fetus full-term no matter what. The choice was mine. I was the one dealing with all of the emotions, all of the sorrow. I needed to end this pregnancy which had already ended itself. I needed to "clean house" and move on, at least physically. Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, I had a ways to go. But, it was my choice to make. So, I made it. On Friday, May 28, 2004, I had a medically necessary abortion because of a missed miscarriage. One of the saddest days of my life.

The sorrow that comes from losing a pregnancy can be overwhelming. The emotions each woman faces is very different. Different as each story. Different as each woman. The sorrow I have experienced this past month as I have read different politicians (both male and female) express definitive view points on this issue has almost overwhelmed me. And, I am angry. I am angry that many think issues like abortion are either black or white. It is not. Especially when stories like mine, an abortion that was not wanted but needed, becomes a part of the political foray.

I cannot tell you what to think or how to vote or what you should believe. I only want to tell you my story so you can understand that there is no right or wrong answer when it comes to these politically divisive issues. Personally, I believe abortions should be avoided at all costs. But, to completely outlaw them will only make our world an even more tragic place to live. If you haven't watched Dirty Dancing in a while, you should! That movie has a lot more to say about abortion than it does dancing.

Many will say to me that I did not have an abortion. Yet, there are politicians out there today who want to make what I did illegal. How is that helping anyone? How is that helping our society? It's not. You see, that's a private decision that needs to be made between a person and her doctor. Plain and simple.

I believe our arguments over political issues like abortion and birth control sadden God. God knows we live in a crazy place. God knows there is sin in our world. God knows that we will make mistakes. What God really wants is for us to come together to talk about our differences. God wants us to respect each other. God wants us to love each other. God wants us to honor each other's opinions. God wants us to love our enemies. Because when we do, that's when the Kingdom of God is most present in our world. And, the sorrow that surrounds us all is replaced with a sense of peace.


Monday, March 26, 2012

The Sewing Project

The huge project my daughter and I worked on a few weeks ago received a blue ribbon. I mentioned this project in my post The Spiritual Art of Sewing. The project was to decorate a potato. In case you can't tell by the picture, she made a Chinese girl by the Great Wall. It was a lot of work. We had a lot of fun, too! She did a great job. I just love her smile.

Stepping Out Into Darkness


“Stepping Out Into Darkness”

Rev. Nancy Dunn

March 25, 2012
John 12:20-36

Have you seen the Hunger Games movie yet? It’s the one that just came out this weekend much to the delight of many teenagers and young adults everywhere. Of course, it was a book trilogy first. And, if you do go to see it, I recommend reading the books first. Even if you don’t go to see it, I still recommend reading the books.

While religion does not specifically play a part in either the books or the movie, for those with a keen mind, the morals and ethics, the spiritual story of Christianity can be seen in the character development of these young teens who are forced to make life and death decisions that many of us would never dream we would have to make. It is an allegory of love; the kind of selfless love given to us by God our creator through the Son, Jesus Christ. It is the kind of “love that sacrifices itself for the sake of others, that sees the hurt and pain in the world and offers healing, and that sees the hungry and feeds them.”[1]

The main character of the trilogy is Katniss Everdeen. She is a 16 year old whose father died five years before the story beings in a horrific coal mining accident. In the years since her father’s death, she managed to keep her family alive through her illegal hunting and gathering methods. Her world is a dark and terrible place. There is little hope for anyone who is not already privileged, wealthy citizens of the Capitol. The darkness consumes the lives of those who live in the 12 Districts ruled by the Capitol. The country, Panem, is ruled by a wealthy Capitol that keeps the Districts dependent on it for survival. Each district is forced to satisfy the Capitol’s needs for food, fuel, and materials. The districts are pretty much enslaved by the Capitol. The Capitol keeps them in check by reminding them of what happened to the obliterated District 13 and through the Annual Hunger Games. Each district must send 2 youth, a boy and a girl, to the Capitol to participate in a Survivor-like gameshow. The big difference between the Survivor currently on TV and the Hunger Games is that the contestants literally kill each other off until only one is left.

The youth are chosen through a lottery each year. And, at the beginning of the book, we find out Katniss’ little sister is the girl chosen this year to represent District 12. Katniss has always protected her little sister, so she immediately volunteers. That is only the first act of self-sacrifice in this exciting Trilogy. Katniss’ act of self-sacrifice and the genuine gift of love and life given to her by Peeta, her fellow contestant from District 12, helps start a rebellion throughout all of the Districts against the Capitol.

The Hunger Games is a novel about the outsiders, the enslaved who give of themselves to others in order to change the world for the better for others. Katniss leaves her dark life behind only to be consumed by a darker reality. She is taken away to fight to the death, and through countless brave acts she unknowingly becomes a symbol of light and hope to the future. As she enters the grand arena for the entrance parade, she is dressed in an outfit that is literally on fire. That gives her the name Katniss, the Girl on Fire. She provides the light to the rebellion. She shows them the way.

There is a scene in the movie that did not take place in the book. It really caught my attention as it relates to our scripture this morning. The President of the Capitol is talking with the Seneca, the Head Gamemaker about this amazing girl on fire. “Seneca, why do you think we have a winner?” President Snow asks while cutting a white rose. “What do you mean?” Seneca replies. “I mean, why do we have a winner?” Snow repeats, before pausing. “Hope,” he says. “Hope?” Seneca replies slightly bewildered. “Hope, it is the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective, a lot of hope is dangerous,” Snow declares. “Spark is fine, as long as it’s contained. So, contain it,” Snow warns.

“Hope, it is the only thing stronger than fear. Spark is fine, as long as it’s contained. So, contain it.” I imagine Jesus knew that those against him were saying words like this to one another. Caiaphas probably let similar words fall from his lips as he talked with his fellow leaders of the Temple and later with Pilate. Jesus himself knew that his time was drawing to a close. The darkness of the world began to surround him. The darkness came to swallow him up as it tried to put out the light, the spark that others saw and received from him.

The scripture begins with the Greeks coming to see Jesus. When Jesus hears that his message has reached even these foreigners, he knows that his time must be near. Instead of talking with the Greeks, Jesus tells everyone that his hour has come. He goes on to share that he, like a grain of wheat must die and be buried in order to produce much fruit. Without his death, others would not know or experience the love of God offered to us through Christ Jesus.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus is described as the Light in more than one place. In John 8, Jesus declares, “I am the Light of the World.” Those who followed him, followed the light. He wanted to bathe them in the light. Have them soak it up the way many of us tried to soak up the sun this past week. Because he knew that the light would soon fade away. He knew that his time of leading the disciples by the hand was coming to an end. He knew they must be prepared to step out into the darkness without him. Jesus needed them to catch hold of the spark he offered them so they might burn and become an amazing fire, ready to consume the hearts of everyone who heard the good news. Ready to consume the hearts of everyone who received God’s amazing love. Ready to spread that love and hope and fire to others. “Spark is fine as long as it’s contained.” It’s hard to stop a little spark once it reaches tender. Little did those first century Romans, Jews, and Greeks know how big that fire would grow.

In some ways, our world is not too different from the world of Katniss or the world of Jesus. Darkness exists in the world. Bad things happen to us and around us each day. And, if we are not ready to face that darkness, the light in our lives can be extinguished.

To put it another way, each day the sun sets and the light fades into the night. We must keep our lamps ready to shine light into the night so we do not lose our way. If we don’t keep fresh batteries, our lights will go out and the darkness can consume us. Sometimes it can happen even before we realize it or are ready for it. Just like the disciples were not ready when Jesus was arrested, crucified and buried. Many of them abandoned him. Peter denied him. Only the women and John were there the day he was crucified. The darkness overcame the other disciples. They were not ready for it.

When dark times come into our lives, the darkness can overwhelm us even before we have a chance to get our flashlights out. What turns off the light in our lives is different for each of us. For some it’s the death of a loved one. For others it’s the end of a dream they have strived years to achieve. It could be the loss of a job. An untimely illness. A sudden car wreck.

For Patrice Williams, it was the discovery that her newborn baby had a rare genetic skin disease called Epidermolysis Bullosa. Her son Jonah’s skin is so sensitive that the lightest touch can cause it to blister and fall off. Through much prayer, medicine, and love, Jonah is a happy three year old. But it’s a hard life that confines them to their home many days as they deal with one medical need after another. Yet, as she tells their story in her blog, she writes about love and faith that sustain them and how God has blessed them with life. She writes about hope and the importance of their church community that gives them strength for each new day. She writes of how they know they are the BLESSED ones because of all the blessings Jonah has brought into their lives despite the hardships of each day. The darkness that came with the diagnosis; the darkness that came with the end of their dreams did not overwhelm them. Instead, the light and love of Christ overcame that darkness. The light and love of Christ gives them hope that one day there will be a cure. The light and love of Christ gives them hope that each day will be a blessing simply because Jonah is with them. The light and love of Christ gives them hope that their story will be an inspiration to others whose lives are overwhelmed by the darkness of the world showing others the way to the light of Christ.[2]

Our scripture today concludes with these words, “While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.” After Jesus had said this, he departed and hid from them.” Jesus, the light of the world, steps out into the darkness. He steps out into the darkness that threatens to consume our very souls. Yet, he is not consumed by it. It does not overwhelm him.

Instead, the light he provides shines in our dark world beckoning us to come to him. When the darkness of this world overwhelms us, we must get our spark from him. He is the spark that cannot be contained. He is the hope that is stronger than our fears. Jesus is the One who has come to save us and give us eternal life. Thanks be to God.

Amen.


[1] Julie Clawson, “The Hunger Games: An Allegory of Christian Love,” Huffington Post, 20 March 2012 (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/julie-clawson/hunger-games-allegory-of-christian-love_b_1365594.html?ref=religion).
[2] Patrice Williams, Before the Morning, http://patriceandmattwilliams.blogspot.com.