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Isaiah 9:1-7
A student at The University of Georgia got a job as a disc jockey at a little radio station in Commerce, Georgia. He also got a room at a hotel in town and commuted to school, which was not far away. Sometimes, at night, he would crawl out of his window and sit on the roof of the hotel. He would look out over that little town and ponder. One night when he was up there, he wrote a song called “City Lights.” And as they say; the rest is country music history. His name was Bill Anderson.
A few years earlier, an Episcopalian minister in Boston worked himself to near exhaustion. He was on the verge of a complete breakdown. He was greatly depressed and almost gave up in despair. But, he took some time off and went away on a trip. He traveled to a place where he had never been before. He saw the lights of a small town, walked along its streets, and in those lights, he found hope again. He wrote a song which has in it these words:
O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie;
above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light;
the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.
And as they say; the rest is church history. His name was Phillips Brooks.
The light of Bethlehem. The light of Bethlehem is an everlasting light. Over 2,000 years there’s never been a time when that light has gone out. And today, that light of Bethlehem still shines on us. On these Sundays of Advent, leading up to the season of Christmas and beyond, I want to share with you how the light of Bethlehem still shines on us.
So, if you have your copy of God’s Word, then let me invite you to turn with me to the book of Isaiah. Similar to Jeremiah, where we were last week, the Book of Isaiah was written during a dark and dangerous time. During a period of 150 years, both the northern and southern kingdoms were threatened by their enemies. Both kingdoms fell and the people suffered the worst kind of defeat and agony. Eventually, even Jerusalem was overrun – the walls torn down and the temple destroyed. But in the midst of those years of darkness, even before the worst had come, the people were offered hope.
Call him a singer, call him a preacher, or call him a prophet; whatever you choose, he gave the Israelites words of hope. And here are the words he gave them:
1 “But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish. In the former time He brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time He has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.
2 The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.
3 You have multiplied the nation; You have increased its joy; they rejoice before You as with joy at the harvest, as they are glad when they divide the spoil.
4 For the yoke of his burden, and the staff for his shoulder, the rod of his oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian.
5 For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult and every garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire.
6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon His shoulder, and His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the increase of His government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.”
And as they say; the rest is Bible history. By the way, his name was Isaiah.
The people who heard those words of God from that preacher needed to hear them because there was darkness all around them. Powerful enemies had been trying to destroy them for centuries, and they were on the verge of destruction. But in the darkness of despair, words of hope came to them.
The people living during that time, and on up to the time of Jesus, believed good and evil were equated with light and darkness. They believed in the powers of darkness and the powers of light. We don’t tend to think that way, although we still use phrases such as, “It’s a dark time,” “The dark night of the soul,” “The dark side,” “I’m wandering around in the dark,” “There’s a light at the end of the tunnel,” and “I’m beginning to see the light.”
We use these words and phrases because they describe what many of us have experienced. It’s a common feeling. It’s part of the human experience. In fact, many of us have described this year in those terms. 2020 has been a year where it seems as though a cloud has settled over our world, and there’s a palpable darkness – even if the sun is shining.
And this happens on a personal level, too. You test positive for COVID and begin spending 14 days in quarantine. If you’re lucky you have a job that’s secure, but many don’t have that luxury. If you don’t work you don’t get paid. Some have even lost their jobs. Then add to that all of the relationship dynamics that come along with missing out on church, missing the kids and grandkids, missing school friends, missing work colleagues, and on and on. And we haven’t even gotten to the societal upheaval that we’re facing as a country.
Is it any wonder that many people feel hopeless. Many people are sensing despair. Many people are deeply discouraged, even as we move into a time of the year that should bring out the best in us. Sometimes we find that the worst of our situation boils to the surface during Advent and Christmas.
Dr. William Carl, III, former President of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary imagined a conversation between Archie Bunker and his son-in-law Meathead, who asked Archie if he knew what Advent meant. Archie said, “Yeah, you add up all your hostile feelings and then you just vent them on somebody. It’s people like you that make me enjoy Advent.”
Doesn’t that sound like 2020? You just add up all your hostile feelings and then you just vent on somebody. The darkness of despair is something that you can even experience during this season of Advent and Christmas. But today Isaiah has a message for all of us – and especially for everybody that’s sensing the darkness of despair of 2020. The message is that the light of Bethlehem and the light of hope still shines.
In fact, that’s the first thing I want us to consider this morning:
The Light Of Hope Still Shines On You
The light of hope shines brightest in despair. Look back at verse 2, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” This was hope for the present and for the future. You know, it really doesn’t take much light to shine in the darkness. A little light goes a long way.
I was watching one of my favorite HBO mini-series the other day for the umpteenth time – Band of Brothers – about the 501 Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 101st Airborne Division during WWII. And during the Battle of the Bulge, when both the Allies and Germans were locked in this seeming stalemate, the Allies had to be so careful about their fires. You have these freezing cold temperatures and snowy conditions, made more difficult by the fact that our troops didn’t have winter gear and the natural tendency was to build a fire. But the smallest flicker of flame would give away your position.
A little light goes a long way. And there’s a light that still shines upon us, today. It’s the light of hope. Isaiah called it a “great light.” But it wasn’t that great in the beginning. Very few people even noticed it at first. Isaiah gives us more detail about this great light in verse 6: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given” (Isaiah 9:6). The light of hope would shine in the face of a child.
United Methodist theologian, and preacher, Paul Scherer, said we can have hope in a world “where Christmas comes out of a stable, the Son of God comes out of a smelly, little village, and twenty centuries of Christianity comes out of a tomb.” Jesus is the light that shines in the darkness. He’s the light of hope. He’s the source of hope. He’s our only reason for hope.
Some will miss it, of course. I had a few errands to run the other night, and I saw a lot of people working really hard, frantically trying to purchase some happiness, hoping to bring some light into the darkness of their lives and the lives of those they love. And just so that we’re clear; there’s nothing wrong with presents at Christmas and getting gifts for those you love – but the real light of hope is such a small thing it can almost be missed.
A man took his granddaughter to see the live manger scene at their church. She stood there looking at everything: the manger, the holy family, the Wise Men, and the shepherds. Then she pointed to the star. He asked her if she thought the light shone into the stable. She said, “Of course it does. That’s why it’s so bright inside. But, granddaddy, you can’t see how the light shines in, unless you get down and look up.”
Put yourself in a place where you can see the real light of hope, and it will shine on you.
The second thought I want us to consider this morning is this:
The Light Of Hope Will Enable You To Find Your Way
This light of hope will shine on the road you travel. Look back at verse 2, “Those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined.” Not only had they seen a great light, that light had shined on them. Not only does the light of Bethlehem signify hope – that someone is out there in the darkness – but the light of Bethlehem also enables us to find our way.
There was a little boy who was born in England in 1903 – the fifth of seven sons. His family immigrated to the U.S. in 1908, when he was only five. For those of you that remember, the teacher used to call the roll by last name first. So, when she got to his name it was Hope, Leslie. The other children started calling him, “Hopeless.” He didn’t like that, because he was not hopeless. He was a happy person. He wanted a name that had a “friendly ‘Hiya, fellas!’ sound” to it. Most of you know Leslie Hope as Bob…Hope.
Whatever is facing you, and whatever darkness surrounds you, there is a light that shines in the darkness, and that light shines on you. And not only does it shine on you it enables you to find your way.
In her book Appointment Congo, author and missionary, Virginia Law told of her experience as a missionary in the Congo. She said that at their mission station, there were men who served as night sentries. They carried oil lanterns. One night, one of them brought her a message. She noticed his lantern and said, “That lamp doesn’t give much light, does it?” He replied, “No. It doesn’t. But, it shines as far as I can step.”
This morning, I want to point you back to the words of Isaiah and remind you that you can find your way, as far as you can step, to wherever you need to go, in the light of Bethlehem’s hope. The final point I want us to consider this morning is this:
The Light Of Hope Can Be Shared By You
Not only does the light of Bethlehem still shine in the darkness, and not only does the light of Bethlehem shine so that you can find your way, but you can share the hope of Bethlehem’s light so that others can find the way.
Isaiah also wrote how the joy of the nation had increased, how the people rejoiced, how the yoke of their burden was broken – for this child shall be called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6)
You can share the light of hope, and increase joy, and break yokes of despair. You can be a witness of this light by living the meaning of it, by being a person of hope, by reflecting the light of Christ, by sharing the warmth of it in your daily life, by inviting other people to come into this lighthouse to learn of the light and feel the warmth of it. In this light, they will find hope.
Centuries ago, a nobleman in Europe built a church for his people. It was a place of beauty. He thought of everything. But when it opened, and a great crowd of people came there, some of them noticed there were no lamps. The nobleman pointed to lamp holders all down both sides. Then, he gave each family a lamp and said, “Each time you are here, the place where you sit will be lighted.” It was up to them to bring the light and share it.
On Christmas Eve, many, if not most, churches hold some form of candlelight worship. In many of these services (like our own), worship ends when one-by-one the light of a single candle is passed from one person to another, until the entire sanctuary is filled with Bethlehem’s light. The light of hope is something that we can share. You don’t have to be a professional evangelist. In fact, the best witnesses are often regular everyday people. Your message doesn’t have to be perfect. In fact, all of our stories of salvation are marked with scars and imperfections because we were sinners in need of a Savior. You just need to be willing to extend the light of hope to your neighbor.
Author and pastor, Thomas Pilgrim, told a story about one year when the youth of the church where he was serving decided to have a live manger scene in front of the church. One of the men built a stable. The Sunday afternoon of the first performance, he went to the church to put the light in the stable. He carefully held it in place and secured it with several nails. He bent down to pick up one more nail, and when he looked back up, the light fell and hit him right above his left eye. He ran inside and called his wife and told her to come quickly and take him to the emergency clinic. He was bleeding too badly to see how to drive. When she asked what happened, he told her, “The star of Bethlehem fell on me.”
I wonder, in this Advent season, if you would be willing to let the light of Bethlehem fall on you? And would you then be willing to be a person who shares the hope of Bethlehem’s light with others?