Light

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

March 22, 2020

4 Lent A

          All over social media as well as in other conversations, I hear the same sentiment expressed.  That sentiment is “I had not planned on giving up this much for Lent.”  I can certainly say that we never planned to give up corporate worship for Lent, although we are all learning new ways to find God in worship, which is an excellent, if hard, thing.  We never planned to give up jumping in our cars and going where we want to go to get whatever we need, even though thinking twice about where we go and what we buy is a good discipline.  We did not plan to take up praying intensely for our medical professionals, first responders, the protection of their families, and those sick and dying with a virus we had not even heard of a year ago, although we should probably do that all the time.  Our Lenten plans did not include an ever deepening concern for all who stand at the brink or have been pushed over the financial edge by the economic fallout from COVID-19, along with those who were struggling long before now, or watching us come together as a community-both local and global-to support them.  I certainly never dreamed I would spend the third week of Lent refashioning myself as a digital priest, learning how to take much of the way we gather online, although many colleagues were already doing that in order to reach folks who can’t come to church on Sundays.   This Lenten wilderness has taken on a life all its own for all of us as we all learn to navigate life in new and challenging ways, at least for the near future, and we learn to see what new things God is doing in our midst.

          The stories from 1 Samuel and from John’s gospel this morning are both about new things God is doing.  In I Samuel, Samuel is sent by God to find the king who will replace Saul.  God sends Samuel to Jesse the Bethlehemite to find a king among Jesse’s sons.  Samuel checks out seven of Jesse’s sons, looking for the one who seems most fit to be king.  But God tells Samuel not to look at appearance, or height, because “the Lord does not see as mortals see.”  Finally, after not finding a king for Israel from among Jesse’s 7 sons, Samuel asks Jesse if this is all of his sons.  Well, no, there is one more but he is the youngest and is out keeping the sheep.  Obviously, a young son who is tending sheep is not ready to be king.  But Samuel asks to see the boy, and, indeed, the young son David was the one God had chosen to be king.  God is doing what seems to be a new thing by choosing a king according to the heart, not his size or strength or age or experience.

          In the story of the man born blind, Jesus’ disciples want to know who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind.  Surely someone sinned for such a tragedy to occur.  When Jesus heals the man, a firestorm of controversy erupts and the now healed man is peppered with questions. Who did it? How did it happen?  What did he do?  How did he open your eyes?  The questions could lead one to believe that the formerly blind man was at fault for his own healing.  And yet, through this man’s blindness and his healing, the glory of God was revealed.  Some had eyes to see what God was doing and others did not, but nonetheless, God’s glory was a light shining in the dark.

          These two stories call us to open our eyes to the unexpected ways God is working in the world, even and especially in these days of COVID-19.  In the eyes of the disciples and the others in the gospel reading, the man's blindness must point to someone's sin.  In the eyes of God, the man's blindness was an opportunity for God's works to be revealed.   To see God’s glory, however, the people had to give up their belief that the man’s blindness had to be caused by someone’s sin.  Likewise, in the eyes of Jesse and his first seven sons, and perhaps even Samuel, an older, wiser, more experienced son would be the best choice for Israel's king.  But God’s choice was the youngest, least likely of the brothers because God was judging by David’s heart not his age or stature.  Throughout Scripture, God acts in unexpected ways from promising an elderly, barren couple that they would have descendants that number the stars in the sky, to calling Moses, a fugitive without leadership skills, and on and on until we get to Jesus who calls a bunch of fishermen and tax collectors to be his disciples, and to the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.

          The fourth Sunday of Lent is traditionally known as Laetare Sunday, which means “rejoice” as we take a mini-break from the solemnities of Lent before soon heading into Holy Week.  The reading from Ephesians calls us to “Live as children of light— for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true.”  Living in the light means watching for the new things God is doing in our midst, even now, looking for all that is good and right and true in the midst of all that seems dark and wrong.  God is pulling us closer even as we must be separated.  God is drawing us into new ways of worship, whether at home or online, helping us prioritize our lives in new ways, and showing us new ways of appreciating each other and all that God has given us.  God is showing us our connection with the whole human family and giving us ways to help each other where ever we might be on this fragile earth, our island home.  In the midst of the darkness, God is shining new light on all that is good and right and true and calling us to live in that light, and be that light for each other and the world.  In that new light, even in the midst of loss, sadness, confusion, and fear, we can rejoice.

                                                                             Amen.