“Light Expectations”
December 14, 2008 Advent 3 Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 1st Thessalonians 5:16-24 John 1:1-28 John Knox Presbyterian Church Tulsa, Oklahoma Dr. Jeffrey K. London I rang the door bell and was greeted by young Julia. She was decked out in a red velvet dress with a red bow in her hair and she had enough energy flowing through her to blast off to the moon. I asked her, somewhat rhetorically, what all the excitement was about and of course she just had to tell me.
“The baby was God!”
She may have only been five years old, but she was very sure of the facts, and she recited them in front of the Christmas tree slowly and with great seriousness convinced that every word was pure revelation. She said, “They were so poor they only had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to eat and they went a long way from home without getting lost. The lady rode a donkey, the man walked, and the baby was inside her. They had to stay in a stable with an ox and an ass (hee, hee), but the Three Rich Men found them because the star lighted up the roof. Shepherds came and you could pet the sheep but not feed them. Then the baby was borned. And do you know who he was?” I nodded at her big eyes as if to say, “Tell me! Tell me!” “The baby was God!” And she jumped in the air, whirled around, dove into the sofa and buried her head under the cushion, which is the only proper response to the Good News of the Incarnation.1 Young Julia’s visceral reaction to the good news of the Word becoming flesh in Jesus Christ speaks to us of a child-like faith that obviously expects something, something special, something grand and glorious to come out of all this. Unfortunately for us, we seem to have lost some of that child-like enthusiasm for the good news. I mean, I may have missed something but when I just read the story from John’s gospel of the Word becoming flesh, the Word being “borned” as Julia would say, I didn’t see anyone jump in the air, whirl around, dive into the pew and bury their head in the cushion. So, maybe our expectations are a little lower than Julia’s? Maybe a lot lower?
Our expectations frame much of our reality.
The power of expectations to be a controlling factor in our lives is remarkable. It is true, to a certain degree, that what we expect out of life is essentially what we end up getting. Our expectations frame much of our reality. If I expect to fail, I shouldn’t be surprised when I do. Likewise, if I expect to succeed, chances are I’ll work toward some goal and, even if I don’t get there, I’ll likely discover some sense of accomplishment along the way. So in this Season of Advent, this season of hope and expectancy, what is it that you expect? What are your expectations? Do you have any expectations, or are you just going through the motions? Do you resist high expectations because you’ve been hurt, because you don’t want to be disappointed? Or, if we really want to ask a bold question, just what do we expect from God? What expectations do we have of God? Is it even appropriate to have expectations of God? What happens in the Incarnation is that we see in the flesh God’s answer to the world’s yearning expectation for a Savior, we see Jesus Christ. But Jesus was not the exactly what the world expected. To tell the truth, he was not even close. The world wanted a something, someone — maybe a mighty king, a general, a conqueror — and maybe that’s what we still want and expect. But that’s not who we get. And thank God for that.
1
John Shea, The Hour of the Unexpected (Allan, Texas: Argus Communications, 1977), p. 68.
The gospel of John proclaims to us that the creative Word of God that was with God, and was God, from the very beginning took on flesh and lived among us in Jesus Christ. That’s pretty mind-blowing stuff when you think about it. Might even make you want to jump in the air and whirl around a bit, but we’re Presbyterian so we’ll refrain. But then the gospel of John goes on to proclaim that the Word is the light of all people and the Word shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it, and that this light that comes into the world in Jesus Christ is meant to enlighten everyone, everywhere. Now, the gospel of John loves to play with words. The gospel writer does it with the “Word,” and he does it with “light.” John wants us to the think of the reality of light — light that illuminates dark places; light that shines in the darkness like a beacon, like a lighthouse, offering saving rays of hope and rescue. But the gospel writer also wants us to think in terms of cognition, understanding — as in the light bulb going off over our heads and we say ,“Oh! Now we get it!” For the gospel of John, to have understanding is to have faith.
Light as in “lite beer.”
But there’s another meaning of light that is born of our modern world — light as in “lite beer,” as in not heavy, as in less filling, as in watered down, dumbed down, and diluted. Maybe one reason we’re not prone to jumping in the air and whirling around is that we harbor “lite” (l-i-t-e) expectations. Later in the gospel of John Jesus says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”2 You know, he’s talking to us. Jesus is addressing our lives, our expectations. I mean, do we expect to walk in the light or are we content with our little corners of darkness? Do we expect to have the light of life, which is another way of saying do we expect to be reflectors of the light that is Jesus Christ or are our expectations more l-i-t-e? Wow! Now those are some dangerous questions. They’re dangerous because they lead to all kinds of other risky possibilities like: Do we dare to expect that our lives will be used by God as vessels of good news, care, and compassion? Do we dare to expect that God will do great things through us, through our church, through our ministries and mission, through Project Merry Christmas? And the biggest one of all, do we dare to expect to be the face of Christ one to another; to our neighbors, to the stranger, to the least of these?
God expects much more of us than we may even expect of God.
So what does it mean for us to embody stellar expectations? True light expectations, l-i-g-h-t? Well, that’s a big part of where we are right now in the Advent Season. That’s a big part of the Incarnation. With God, all things are possible. That’s an enlightening expectation, and it’s one that calls us to live in the light that constantly corrects and reforms our expectations, raising them and broadening them. The truth of the matter is that God expects much more of us than we may even expect of God. And this is not meant as a burden, as in “Oh no, not more expectations.” No, the beauty of God’s light in Jesus Christ is that we take on a reflective shine that where we go God’s light goes, and wherever God’s light goes there is newness, there is hope, there is endless possibility. So come out of the darkness! Raise your expectations, O people of God. Shine like stars and know the joy that is life in the light of Jesus Christ. Live! Serve! Love! And don’t ever be afraid to jump in the air and whirl around,
2
John 8:12
for God expects nothing less. Amen.