This was my first sermon in the season of Advent for the Deer Creek Charge. We welcomed everyone into worship with party hats and sparkling cider, mimicing our New Year's Eve traditions to emphasize how Advent is the beginning of our Christian new year!
Scripture: Luke
1:68-79 (NRSV)
“Blessed
be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people
and redeemed them. He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the
house of his servant David, as he spoke through the mouth of his holy
prophets from of old, that we would be saved from our enemies and
from the hand of all who hate us. Thus he has shown the mercy
promised to our ancestors, and has remembered his holy covenant, the
oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us that we,
being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without
fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. And you,
child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go
before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation
to his people by the forgiveness of their sins. 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.”
Sermon:
Give us light, guide our feet
Will you pray with me:
Tender God, merciful God, you are always ever
redeeming us, raising us up.
Raise us up today in this place. Speak to us through
these words, through our thoughts, or just in spite of us. Give us
light, God. Guide our feet. Amen.
Have you ever been caving? Now, I have never been hard
core splunking or anything, but I love visiting caves and caverns.
The damp coolness of the stone enveloping you is oddly comforting in
hot summer months, at least at first, though it would not be so now.
As a child, I was a science fiction and fantasy nut (some would say I
still am), and so being in caves would open up my imagination even
bigger than it already was. The stalactites and stalagmites would
glitter, sometimes faintly, and the texture of the rock walls was
fascinating to me. Of course, we could only see that glitter and
texture because we brought our own light into the caves. See, I was
told once that there are two places on earth where you can experience
total darkness--- not darkness like what we have up here in the
country at night, even when clouds block the moonlight. There is
still something there your eyes can get used to. No, total darkness
can make you go blind because your eyes are searching crazily for the
light. One of these two dark places is the depths of the ocean, but
the other is a cave. So caves have always been places in my
imagination of intense beauty at the same time they are fearful
places.
Veteran
caver Chris Nicola says, “When
you first go into a cave, you feel like you are in the smallest area
you have ever been in your life. Your heart pounds, and you sweat.
You have this horrible feeling of confinement. It is very important
that you get acclimated or you will get tunnel vision, which prevents
you from focusing on the important things such as hydration, staying
warm, and not getting lost.”1
Can
you imagine living in this darkness, living in this fear for almost a
year, constantly struggling for survival and then one day emerging,
jaundiced, weak, muddy, into the sunlight? This is what 38 people
from five different families did in the spring on 1944 in Ukraine.
They pushed and pulled their way up a hole, a twenty-five foot hole
like a chimney, to breathe in the fresh, sweet air after having lived
below ground for so long that one of the youngest, a little girl of
about five named Pepkale, implored her mother to turn off the candle
when they emerged from the cave. She was so used to the sensory
deprivation of the cave that she could not see. And, it appears she
had forgotten that there was a sun.2
These 38 people had been living in and out of caves in
what is now the Ukrainian countryside since first escaping their town
in 1942. They were Jews living during World War II, and Esther
Stermer, the matriarch, said that she would not go to be killed in
the slaughterhouses that were called concentration camps. So they
hid. First they hid in a cave until they were found by Nazis. They
were able to escape, barely, and hid out in the wilderness for six
weeks until they found another cave, a better one with a supply of
fresh water, better ventilation, and more room. It turned out to be
one of the longest caves in the world. A few of the men would go out
at night every few weeks to get food and other supplies until they
heard of the end of the war.
The
caves, for them, became a sort of salvation, a way for them to hide
from all those seeking to kill them. But they were just surviving,
not living, and so when they were able to come back to the surface,
back into the sunlight, they were overjoyed. Shlomo Stermer
commented, “Can you imagine, to pull out from that hole--- there
was a woman over seventy in there and some kids. It took us a few
hours, finally we all are out and we looked at each other--- we were
like a piece of mud everybody. But it was a beautiful day. The sun
was shining.”3
“Modern
cavers require special clothing to ward off hypothermia, advanced
technology for lighting and travel, and intensive instruction in
ropes and navigation to survive underground for just a few days. How
did 38 untrained, ill-equipped people survive for so long in such a
hostile environment during history’s darkest era?”4
The record before this story was discovered of a person living inside
a cave was 205 days. The women and children in these families lived
underground for 344 days--- almost a year.
Light
was given to them who sat in darkness and in the shadow of death. But
the light in this case was not just the sunlight on their faces after
almost a year in the darkness of the cave, but rather was the light
of their love for one another. One time, in the first cave, the Nazis
discovered the family, and Esther, the matriarch, talked to them,
distracting them while much of the family got away. At another point,
members of the family were captured and those who were free risked
their lives to go into town and barter for the lives of their family
members. And every day, each person had a job to do within the caves,
so that all could survive the harsh conditions. Shulim Stermer
pronounced: “By ourselves, one by one, we would have been killed,
but because we stuck together, we had a chance.”5
This
incredible story of survival is one that speaks to our season of
Advent. It speaks to how, though we continue to wait and prepare in
Advent, it can be like that moment when we emerge from the heavy
darkness of the year to hope and make a new way for ourselves---
together.
It is a time when we can help lift each other up. Though our
celebrations of January 1st
are slightly different from our celebrations of Advent, like our
secular new year, Advent gives us the space to start over when we
need it--- and it gives us the space to start over not after the
gluttony and commercialism of the holiday season, but during. It
helps us to make space to focus on hope and preparation for Jesus'
coming that looks more like celebration than too often the mania of
our Christmas preparations become.
Our
scripture reading this morning comes from Zechariah's proclamation at
the birth of his son John the Baptist. Luke's gospel's preparation
for the birth of Christ really centers around the prophet John the
Baptist. Zechariah and Elizabeth were relatives of Mary's, and
Elizabeth conceived in her old age and gave birth to the child who
would be John the Baptist. Zechariah's words are beautiful, and speak
of preparing the way of the Lord. But it is the end of his
proclamation that captures me: “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.”
This
is what Advent is about, allowing the dawn from on high to break upon
us, to give us light. It isn't about frenzied preparation. It is
about joy and peace. Advent
is a season of light out of darkness. It is the season where the dawn
can break upon us, where we pray for and act to bring light to touch
those who sit in the darkness of the cave, even if we are feeling
that darkness too. This morning we have celebrated this new year,
celebrated the possibilities of new life that it brings together.
Because Advent is also this: to grow together as a community, to take
care of one another, to reach out and bring a little light into
someone else's darkness.
Give us light, God. Guide our feet. Amen.
1Chris
Niccola interview with Carey Ostergard, “The Darkest Days,”
National Geographic's Adventure Magazine,
June/July 2004,
http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/0406/q_n_a.html.
2Pepkale
Blitzer in “Family escaped
Holocaust by living in caves,” NBC Today Show,
2004, http://video.today.msnbc.msn.com/today/5324069.
3Shlomo
Stermer in Scott Simon, “Caves of Salvation: Ukrainian Jews
Survived Holocaust in Underground Grottos,” National Public
Radio, 4 June 2004,
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1924568.
4Peter
Lane Taylor, “Off the Face of the Earth,” National
Geographic's Adventure MagazineJune/July
2004,
http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/0406/excerpt4.html.
5Shulim
Stermer in “Family escaped
Holocaust by living in caves,” NBC Today Show,
2004, http://video.today.msnbc.msn.com/today/5324069.
No comments:
Post a Comment