Home > Sermons > December 3, 2006

DAWN FROM ON HIGH

First Congregational Church of Evanston
December 3, 2006, Advent I
Luke 1: 68-79

Rev. Dr. James E. Roghair, Interim Pastor

Luke 1:68-79

68 “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.

69 He has raised up a mighty savior for us

in the house of his servant David,

70 as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,

71 that we would be saved from our enemies

and from the hand of all who hate us.

72 Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,

and has remembered his holy covenant,

73 the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,

to grant us
74 that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear,

75 in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.

76 And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;

for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,

77 to give knowledge of salvation to his people

by the forgiveness of their sins.

78 By the tender mercy of our God,

the dawn from on high will break upon us,

79 to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,

to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

Fright in the Dark

When I was working in the inner city in Cincinnati, one of the big projects we did was a children’s camping program. We developed a relationship with the denominational camp. And we got lots of kids to go to camp. We logged in hundreds of camper-nights – more than all of the rest of the churches put together. At first we set up two huge World War II army tents, and they were wonderful until they started to leak. Later we got use of an old barn which was converted into a nice camping place.

Although it wasn’t my responsibility to actually stay with the kids very often, I remember distinctly was how afraid many of the children were at night. Out there in the woods the only sounds were the animals of the forest, and the only light was the light of the moon and the stars, but the kids were afraid to walk on the paths as night.

The trees looked like monsters. The rocks looked like huge animals crouching to pounce on them. They were terrified of imagined animals that might attack. And I don’t know what else they thought of. I always chuckled a little, because I thought how, for many people the country darkness would seem very peaceful and inviting, but to these kids the quiet and darkness was menacing.

I thought, why are these kids afraid? They live in the inner city area. Where they lived would many other people would not be seen after dark! But these kids moved blithely around their inner city home area, unafraid.

What is it about the forest camp that was so frightening for the kids? What is it about night in the inner city that make it so frightening for others? The coming of darkness seems to be a part of the fear. And fear is compounded by our unfamiliarity. Of course we can be frightened, even in familiar territory, when it is dark.

All of us know how frightening things be at night. Children and adults – we know that seeing things in the light makes them better. The things that are so menacing in the darkness are less frightening when the dawn comes.

The Coming of the Dawn

Have you watched the rising of the sun – the coming of the dawn? I think it is especially nice on a camping trip where we seem to be more related to the natural elements than we are in our normal home and work situations. Perhaps you are an early riser and you have sat up in the early hours to watch the dawn come. First it is just a faint glow in the east. Then perhaps you see light begin to reflect on the clouds. And in a few minutes the whole sky lights up, and out pops the glowing image of the sun.

That’s the way it is in this temperate climate. In the Tropics, the sunrise comes much more quickly. The sun seems to shoot up straight and we move immediately from pitch dark to blazing sun. But in the Arctic it is just the opposite. In the late winter, after there has been no sunrise at all, the sky lights up, but there is no sun for several days. And then – it feels almost miraculous – one day, the sun is up and it is truly day.

The coming of the dawn – however it happens – is a time for people to feel better about the things that we feared in the night – whether that night was a few hours or whether it was several months.

And so this imagery is familiar to us – which is stated so clearly in the Psalm which Zechariah sings in this first chapter of Luke. Remember, the High Priest had been kept in the dark as it were – he became mute when he heard that his barren wife was with child. But finally when the child was born, the Holy Spirit came upon Zechariah and the light dawned. Zechariah prophesied, he said:

“By the tender mercy of God, the dawn from on high will break in upon us.”

How appropriate to think of the mercy of God sending us a dawn to break upon us. It will

“...give light those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

Zechariah doesn’t speak of a new and unknown relationship to God. He is talking about the renewal of the covenant. He is reminding his people that they have a relationship already with God.

Even though they have been feeling the darkness, their God has been there. But now God is dawning upon them again. The faithful God, like the faithful sun which causes fear when it disappears, but brings joy when it returns.

God’s people, had known the darkness. Their national identity had been shattered – first by exile – from which many had finally returned. But then there was the Roman occupation. And the Roman influence over the appointment of the priests in Jerusalem. There was much that was dark for the nation, besides the personal darkness that comes with a human life.

But Zechariah in the Spirit’s eye saw the coming of the Dawn. The re-emergence of their Covenant partner – YHWH God. As we enter the season of Advent – we are waiting – waiting for the coming of the Lord God. We, too, await a “Dawn from on High” – the return of the God of the Covenant.

So what is the darkness that you sit in? It is easy to think of the darkness of war that envelops family and friends – that envelops neighbors and countrymen and women – that envelops fellow human beings of other races, religions and nationalities. Yes war is a deep darkness that we sit in.

But there is more personal darkness, as well. A long and protracted illness is a darkness in which we sit – or one in which we see our loved ones sitting. And we await the Dawn from on High to come up on us and bring healing. To bring peace – either through physical healing or at least spiritual healing. The Dawn brings meaning into the meaninglessness.

Or there may be the darkness of grief. The death of a loved one, the loss of a relationship, or the loss of a job or position can put us into a night of the soul. And in that night, we long for the light of the return of our God – for a knowledge that the covenant is renewed and that we do not sit alone.

Autistic Darkness

An author Jenee Woodard writes of the experience of her family of living with an autistic child. He found the celebration of Christmas disconcerting. The family tree and all of the seasonal changes in the home and routine were so upsetting that he would kick and scream. He would walk through the house with a coat over his head, so he didn’t have to see any of the changes. When it was time to open gifts, he couldn’t stand for them to take off the ribbons and remove the wrapping. Perhaps worst of all, he never appreciated any gifts that were given to him. It was a darkness that overwhelmed the whole family.

Then the year that he was 10, the boy began to relate what was going on. He asked for gifts – gifts that other children were asking for. He was beginning to relate to the world in which he lived. And the family felt a great burden lift. It was as if a dawn had come upon them – perhaps even a Dawn from on High. And they were all truly thankful for this coming of light. (Story in Storyshare at www.css.com)

Do you sit in darkness this season?

Conclusion

By the tender mercy of our God,

the dawn from on high will break upon us,

to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.

Amen.

Last Updated: Wednesday, February 6, 2008