Sunday, March 22, 2020

"I am the light of the world": A Sermon for Laetare Sunday during the COVID-19 Pandemic

1 Samuel 16:1-13
Psalm 23
Ephesians 5:8-14
John 9:1-41

“As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”
+In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

High altar from St. Ignatius Episcopal Church
The Fourth Sunday in Lent is often called Laetare Sunday. On this Sunday, the Lenten Fast is loosened briefly, the purple vestments are swapped for a lighter rose-coloured set, the music takes a brighter turn, and the first glimmers of Easter appear on the horizon as some churches place flowers on the alter for this one Sunday in Lent. It is intended to encourage the faithful in their course through the season of penance and fasting, to reassure them that there is a season to all things, and that on the other side of Lent and the Passion is the glory of Easter and the Resurrection. The name Laetare comes from the traditional Latin introit or entrance for the mass of the day, Lætare Jerusalem. The full introit comes from Isaiah 66 and Psalm 122:

Rejoice ye with Jerusalem, and be glad with her, all ye that love her: rejoice for joy with her, all ye that mourn for her:
That ye may suck, and be satisfied with the breasts of her consolations; that ye may milk out, and be delighted with the abundance of her glory.
I was glad when they said unto me, ‘We will go unto the house of the Lord.’

Right now, it is difficult to rejoice. We are in our homes practicing social distancing in an attempt to blunt the spread of COVID-19 and the flatten the curve of infection so as to not overwhelm our healthcare systems. Many of us are cut-off from our friends and family, only engaging in necessary contact for groceries and medicine. Schools are closed, businesses are shutdown, the economy is uncertain, and the future is unclear. It is as if the world has hit a pause button, and yet we still have to move to continue life in whatever shape we can.

The most painful part of this for many of us is that churches are closed, and liturgies are cancelled. We are cut-off from the Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Christ, one of the things many of us look to in order to sustain them through the Lenten Fast is now a part of the Lenten Fast.

We may be at this for some time. China has now only begun to relax their own measures of quarantine, social distancing, and isolation after two months of implementation. Yet part of the problem with COVID-19 is that it is a novel strain of a coronavirus, and though scientists have learned much about it, there is still so much that is unknown. We are groping around unable to see as if in a dark room, blinded by shadows. The fear is that the virus may come rushing back once the restrictions are loosened so some scientists believe we may have to go in and out of social distancing until a vaccine is produced and distributed which could be 18 months to 2 years from now. There is a silver lining in this, should we need to enact social distancing again, the duration will likely be shorter than the prior one, our healthcare system will become more adapt at meeting society’s needs when an outbreak comes, and new anti-viral treatments are showing positive results. Even the most clinical and lacking in bedside manner scientists say that there is an end to this though the road ahead may be long and what lies at the other side is unsure.

In our Gospel reading today Jesus heals the man born blind. This healing is quite unique compared to the other healings in John’s Gospels. When Jesus heals the royal official’s son in John 4 or the paralytic in John 5, he does so at a distance, or by his command. Here however, Jesus spits on the ground, makes a paste of saliva and mud, smears it on the eyes of the blind man, and tells him to wash in the public pool of Siloam. This is not very sanitary and goes against all medical practice! And yet its very tactile, physical, and earthy scene and its physicality highlights Jesus message, “I am the light of the world.” That light is not some philosophical concept, there is no intellectual ascent or hidden knowledge given by Jesus to transcend reality, no Jesus is the physical light sent into the world so that people can see, and by his light people can see and know God. Reality itself bends to his very presence, and the light that he shines scatters the darkness and reveals the truth plainly for all to see, as S. Paul says in his epistle to the Ephesians “all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light: for whatsoever doth make manifest is light.” Through Christ, salvation and hope is offered to all, and that radiance overwhelms any darkness and any secret in the world because “the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.” And in that light, all the secrets we carry, the worries, the fears, the anxieties which blind us to the light and hope of Christ are revealed as the foolishness of our human nature. We can see ourselves as we truly are. And when we stare at our human nature while under that light as if in a mirror, we see how foolish we can be, and laughter is inevitable. And from that laughter comes wisdom and joy as a gift from God, and from that joy comes hope.

Jesus tell us “as long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Though Jesus has ascended to the Father in Heaven, we believe that Jesus is still present physically in the world. We primarily acknowledge that Christ is present in the Body and Blood of the Eucharist, but now with many cut off from the Sacrament we are rediscovering how Christ is present in the Body of the Church. Though we do not gather in together in person, we can still pray together. Even if we are not in the same room, we can gather with our friends and loved ones to pray over Skype, Facetime, Zoom, or even the good old-fashioned telephone. Though we may not be in the same room, we are still gathered together and united in prayer because the Holy Spirit moves through us despite the distance. The Prayer of S. Chrysostom in the Daily Office of the Book of Common Prayer reminds us of Jesus’s promise “that when two or three are gathered together in thy Name thou wilt grant their requests.” Indeed, this may be a time to rediscover the poetry and prayers of Morning Prayer, Evening Prayer, and Compline, which lies at the bedrock of the Prayer Book tradition.

More importantly, we are united in the Body of Christ through our baptism. Our baptism knits us together in ways that transcend our imagination and it gives us the opportunity to be the Body of Christ wherever we are and in what we do. We allow the Light of Christ to shine through us and into the world and help us to see others as God sees us, loved, beloved, and cherished. Our baptism allows us to be Christ to others and allow others to see God through our actions. Brian P. Flanagan, a professor of theology at Marymount University in Arlington, Virginia, wrote recently in America Magazine:

Josh Edelson/AFP via Getty Images
“Jesus teaches us, ‘For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’ I have the privilege of being healthy and at low risk for complications from the virus. How can I use my time to support those in my community who are more biologically vulnerable? ... In this time in which we are not able to encounter Christ in the assembly or the Eucharist, we always have the opportunity to encounter Christ in the vulnerable, even in ways that protect ourselves and those we wish to help from further risk. A meal or groceries left on a doorstep [or given to the most vulnerable among us], a contribution to a fund for unemployed restaurant workers, a check-in with an isolated older person or a friend who has suddenly become a homeschooling parent—we can all do something, for someone, in this time.”

We can still serve one another and be like Christ to others in the world, even if it must be done so at a distance. Though our prayers, our words, and our deeds, the Light that is Christ will continue to shine in this world, illuminating even the deepest shadow that seems to be so ever present in these times. As S. Paul says in his epistle to the Romans, “I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” There is nothing that will ever truly separate us from one another, and us from God, not even a virus.

The next few weeks may be very difficult, and the future beyond that may be uncertain. Pray for a quick end to this pandemic, but in these times, do not lose hope. God will never abandon us, as Psalm 23 says,
The Lord is my shepherd; therefore can I lack nothing.
He shall feed me in a green pasture, and lead me forth beside the waters of comfort.
He shall restore my soul, and bring me forth in the paths of righteousness, for his Name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff comfort me.
Though we cannot drink deeply of the Eucharistic cup, we can drink deeply of God’s love for us and that cup will sustain us in the midst of these times.

In the days to come I urge you to look after and take care of one another as best you can. Each day find something to be thankful for, something to pray for, and something to laugh over. If you are young and healthy and able to, find ways to reach out and serve the vulnerable because they are at even more risk than anyone else. In these acts we can find joy and laughter, and in that we find hope, and in that hope, Christ is known among us. As my mother told me on Friday, find Jesus in every moment.

I look forward to the day when I can say to you all in person, “We will go unto the house of the Lord,” and celebrate once again the Feast of Christ’s Body and Blood together as a community. May that day be a bright and joyous day filled with laughter where no shadows lie, and may that day come soon.

Amen.

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