This is the sermon I preached tonight on the Feast of Epiphany:
Hope in the Midst of Despair
Epiphany is a feast of hope, and hope is what we need in this day and age. I am reminded of a line from the movie, Shawshank Redemption. Andy Dufresne, a recent escapee from Shawshank prison writes to his newly paroled friend, Red, “Remember, Red. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” It is one of most memorable lines in the movie. Taken out of context, it is still a powerful truth. However, when one remembers that the character, Andy Dufresne, played by Tim Robbins, was unjustly accused of murdering his wife, sent to prison, and spent years of hell in a crookedly run facility—where he was raped, put in solitary for months, and saw one of his friends killed—when one remembers this context for hope, his words are all the more striking. Finding hope in such a setting is what helped to keep him sane amidst the insanity of prison life. In fact, the stark walls of the prison and the dehumanizing life within make Dufresne’s hope shine more brightly and profoundly, like a single candle illuminating a completely darkened room. For a single light becomes more significant, more illuminating, and, indeed, more necessary in the midst of total darkness.
Hope, in the same way, becomes more important, more life-giving and life-altering when despair attempts to rush in and overwhelm the faithful. In Isaiah 60, the prophet addresses the newly returned exiles, who are disillusioned by the hardships of their new life on their home soil. The relative comforts that they had worked so hard to establish in exile in Babylon were now gone, and now they faced the uncertainties and displacement of living in a home that had now become foreign to them. To this situation, the prophet proclaims hope to the people:
Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you. 2For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you. 3Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.
To the discouraged masses, the poet exhorts the people to stand up and shine, because the LORD’s glory has risen upon them. For those whose lives are darkened by despair, the prophet says, “but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you.” And to a nation that had lost its bearing and its sense of identity and purpose, this writer says, “Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.” (in other words) “Not only will you survive, but you will thrive again, so much so, that nations will flock to the light that comes from you.” In this way, the opening words of chapter 60, “Arise and shine” become a form of repentance—not a repentance from sins, but a turning from despair and a turning to God, a turning toward hope.
The prophet’s message speaks to us today. I haven’t always had time to think about how my life has changed in the post 9/11 era. But one thing I am sure about is that I am more afraid, and fear is always the partner of despair. I am more afraid for my children and the world that we are leaving them. I am more afraid of violence and the possibility of violence striking close to home. I am afraid of my participation in a country whose citizens are increasingly hated around the world because of the actions or inactions of our government. I hate to admit it, because in general I am a very hopeful person; but I am afraid and it seems to me that I live among a people who are also bound by fear.
In this context, it seems to me that we too need to hear the prophets words, “Arise and shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you.” Or as the band Switchfoot suggests in their recent hit tune: “I dare you to move.” Brothers and sisters, I dare you to move—to not give into despair. I dare you to believe that the world can be a place that embraces peace as a core value. I dare you to believe that our children hold the future and will not be bound to the mistakes that we have made. I dare you to believe that racism, sexism, heterosexism, and all the other isms won’t carry the day, but God’s justice and peace will reign. I dare you to believe that love is strong enough, that love is enough period. I dare you to believe that all of this can happen because ultimately this world is not ours but it is God’s. I dare you to hope.
And in closing, I wanted to offer these final words as a prayer for those whose lives have been affected by the tsunamis in South Asia and East Africa. The death toll has climbed to at least 150,000; and according to UNICEF, 1.5 million children were directly affected by the killer waves. We have only begun to understand the magnitude of this disaster and its affects on the human community. When one hears of the ruined lives and the desolation, it is hard not to despair.
Still, I hope for Indonesia and Thailand. I hope for India, Sri Lanka, and the Maldives. I hope for the half a dozen other countries who were affected by the tsunamis. I hope that they will lift up their eyes and look around, that their sons and daughters, parents, and grandparents will gather together, that they will come back to each other. That they will come from far away, and that their infants will be carried on their nurses’ arms. I hope that they will one day again be radiant, that their hearts will thrill and rejoice. I hope that the wealth of the nations will come to them, that the world will bring gold and frankincense and proclaim the praise of the LORD. I hope that God will glorify them, that the nations will come to their light and kings to the brightness of their dawn. I hope for them. I hope.
[p.s., The "Dare You to Move" video is on the VH 1 website linked above. It takes a long time for it to buffer the streaming video. Slide the progress bar back to the begining a half a dozen times or so and you should be able to see the whole thing].
Posted by Frank Yamada at January 7, 2005 12:34 AM