God, Light My Path, and My Mirror: First Sunday After Christmas

God, 

Light My Pathway, and My Mirror

“The light shines, and the darkness does not overcome it.”

In 2018 Americans spent $16.5 billion on cosmetic surgery. That is a lot of money to look better and feel better about ourselves. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not saying plastic surgery is wrong. If I had more money, I’d look better than I do now!

But the statistic does point to something greater than money and vanity… identity. Dr. Maxwell Maltz was once one of the premier cosmetic surgeons in the United States. He began to notice a theme with his patients; many were disappointed after their surgeries.

One story he told stands out to me. A car crash gashed a young woman’s cheek when she was an adolescent. The result was a large scar across her cheek. It was a painful embarrassment through her teenage years; she just wanted it to go away. She knew that her emotional pain would leave with the scar. 

Dr. Maltz said, “I told her that I’d remove the scar, and, after surgery, she would look fine once again. It will be as if it was never there.”

After surgery, he waited for her reaction. He said, “Many patients are joyful when they first see their new, improved image. But her reaction was uncertain; she expressed no real positive emotion. I waited a few seconds, then said, “What do you think? Do you like it?” 

“It looks better,’ she admitted, `but I don’t feel better!'”

When I read that, I realized that her scar became her identity. There’s a spiritual lesson there; often, our wounds try to define us. Or, as John said, they try to “overcome” the light. Overcome is also translated, “seize by force,” or “capture.” Consider it, our wounds try to “seize” our identity. 

Everyone here knows a particular person whose identity was shaped… by a knife; Joan Rivers. She said, “I’ve had so much plastic surgery that when I die, they will have to donate my body to Tupperware.”

Let me say… our peace of mind, and our identities come from the light of God. We are not what happened to us, and we are not the scars left on the soul.  

“The light shines, and the darkness does not overcome it.”

So, what does it look like when God expels the darkness? I think there are a couple of examples in the Gospel lesson.

God illumines the darkness by giving us peace.

I read a statistic last week that caught me off guard. BibleGateway is the number one website and app for online bible searches and readings. They just released the most popular, and the most searched for verse of 2019. The verse confronts our culture of fear and anxiety; what is it? 

From Paul’s letter to the Philippians (4:6), “Do not worry about things…” 

That’s easy to say, it’s harder to do. Yet, the Gospel challenges us to let go of our need for control and be at peace. 

Speaking of fear, I heard a story about a thief who stole wine from the king’s cellar. During the king’s sentencing, he told him he had two choices. “You can be hung by a rope in the town square at noon today. OR, you can walk into the darkness behind that iron door.” 

The thief chose the rope. Then he said, “Your Majesty, as one final request, will you tell me what lies behind the iron door in the darkness?” The king stared into his eyes, “Behind the door and into the darkness is freedom. A tunnel leads you back to town. Yet, fear of the unknown makes people choose the rope.”

Sometimes we must walk through the darkness. It is very real! But we do not have to walk in fear just because we walk through darkness. “The light shines, and the darkness can’t overcome it.” 

I appreciate the number one verse said, “Do not worry…”. That’s a great verse, but the verse following explains it: “And the peace of God… will guard your hearts and minds in Christ.” 

Why does it matter? Because God can heal the scars from our “car wreck” moments and give us peace about them… God illumines the darkness and grants us peace and a sense of calm. 

God also illumines the darkness by giving us an identity.

I’ve read this Gospel lesson dozens of times. I’ve read current and historical scholarship. I’ve heard a lot of sermons, and I’ve preached a lot of sermons from this text. But last week I saw something new. 

As I studied, I realized that these verses are all theological declaration, except for one verse. Well, it’s not even a whole verse, it’s an independent clause. It describes what God did for humanity: “He gave them power to become children of God.”

That blew me away. For years I overlooked that. Right in the middle of John’s poetic discourse on theology sits one sentence that tells us what incarnation truly means. Those who believe are children of God. That’s a statement of identity. 

Insecurity, pain, shame, and embarrassment try to tell us who we are. Many of us know the pain and alienation that comes with identity. We know people who think a scar, be it past mistakes, former abuse, or a diagnosis, is their identity.

I have good news. Amid that fear, there is peace. The scars, visible and invisible, do not tell us who we are. The bottom line? You, me, we are God’s children. Let no one tell you who you are, save the Father and Mother of us all, the God revealed in the love of Jesus Christ.

You’re not one simple trait.

I’ll end with a true story that’s become infamous. There was a university student who needed one extra class in his final semester. He wanted an easy class and an easy grade. So, he signed up for a course in introductory ornithology. 

He didn’t know what it was, but he heard the old professor gave everyone at least a C and mostly A’s and B’s. 

On the first day of class, he realized that he got more than he bargained for when he learned it was a course about birds. Worse, the old professor was on sabbatical. In his stead was a newly minted Ph.D. craving an opportunity to demonstrate his brilliance.

During the final exam, the young man finally lost it; he looked at 25 pairs of bird legs, from the knees down. “Identify each bird based solely on their knees and legs.” He dropped his pencil and shoved the paper on the floor, ” I’m done, I just can’t do this anymore, I’m out.”  

The professor said, “Son, what is your name?”

The young man said, “There’s 25 of us in this class.” Then he rolled up his pants and said, “Look at my ankles. Figure it out, you’re a doctor.”

What’s the moral of the story? There’s always someone who wants to define you by one single trait. But it is God who grants us peace of mind, and it is God who defines our identity.

Remember, you are a child of God, you are not defined by your knees and ankles.

And for that, thanks be to God… Amen.