Light is one of the both/and things of nature. It is both a particle and a wave. As a particle, light is electromagnetic radiation, particles called photons which travel through space carrying radiant energy. In other words, a substance that moves while radiating energy. As a wave, light is a disturbance or oscillation that travels through space and matter, accompanied by a transfer of energy. Both a particle and a wave. That's pretty cool, especially when we're used to thinking of things as having to be either this or that, fish or fowl, man or beast, night or day, chicken or egg, liquid or gas or solid, but light is both a particle and a wave.
Of course, the physics of light are much more complicated and interesting than that, and perhaps it is a matter of simplified things interesting this simple mind, but I find it fascinating that both Isaiah and Matthew, who I am pretty sure did not know modern physics, would nonetheless choose as their theological metaphor a natural phenomenon that so accurately mirrored the properties of God's Messiah: both God and man, both a little photon of a person in the vast scope of the human experience who radiated energy as he travelled through life, and a wave of disturbance transferring energy to all he came into contact with.
In our scripture lessons for this morning, we see the wave of disturbance sweeping through Herod and Jerusalem at the Messiah's birth. We have heard Matthew tell it: "Wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we have observed his star rising in the East and have come to worship him." When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him."
The Greek verb Matthew uses, tarasso, is not the expected phobeo, from which we get our phobia and means "to be frightened" as in the pure fear we experience. Tarasso, rather, means "to be troubled; to stir or agitate (as in roil water)." You see, there's that wave again, that disturbing wave. It's as if the baby Jesus is a pebble dropped into a still pond and the waves roil out wards, disturbing lilly pads, reflected clouds, baby ducks, as they roll on...or kings sitting in Jerusalem.
Did you ever wonder why? Why was Herod troubled and all Jerusalem with him at the news of this baby? Sure, as an alternate king of the Jews, the kid poses an eventual problem for Herod, but a baby? Why did he send the wise men? Why didn't he go himself? Knife in hand? Or at least send his soldiers as he eventually did after the wise men departed by another road? For a man who could do what he later did to the children of Bethlehem, why was he troubled? He could have just called in a 1st century equivalent of a drone strike.
but, you see, physics teaches us that light cannot be destroyed. Light can only be absorbed, absorbed by darkness which is just the absence of visible light. Moreover, light cannot be absorbed without limit. Not destroyed or completely absorbed, only converted from one type of energy to another. As an example, light striking a black topped road does not reflect. It is absorbed and converted into the energy of heat which radiates out, burning our feet. And not to have too many asides or non sequiturs in this sermon, but as an aside, this conversion of light is an intriguing line of reflection for thinking about the Resurrection: Jesus converted in the darkness of the tomb to the Risen Christ. But back to our topic at hand, from a physics point of view, the darkness of Herod could not destroy the light of Messiah, only convert it. Perhaps Herod had sensed the power and held back at first.
And now for my final physics observation for the moment, light without darkness is indistinguishable. You can't see a candle on a bright day. It is the surrounding darkness that appears to define the light, give body to the light, help the light stand out. Which finally brings me back to Herod, the embodiment of darkness in our lesson this morning, the counterpoint of the light of Messiah. From the very beginning of all the gospels, Jesus is held in contrast and opposition to his opposite: in Luke with Caesar Augustus, the King of the world, as Roman Emperor the other Son of God, in Matthew with Herod, the other King of the Jews, the kingdom of God with the kingdoms of the world.
So what point are the gospels trying to make about God's Messiah? What point is Matthew trying to make about a star shining on a baby that troubles the rulers of the world? Simply that, God's Messiah, Jesus the Christ came to shine a troubling light on the powers that be, the systems of power, domination, oppression and exclusion which make the world turn; which make the world turn for those who are doing the turning, but make the world grind for those being ground down. And why would God want to do that? For the quite simple reason that we often don't see well. We are often confused. We often mistake Caesar for Christ, our kingdom with God's kingdom, what's working for us with God's will. The powers that be tell us that the two are one and the same, but God's Messiah points out the opposition. If you don't believe me, just read the news about Pope Francis of late. Rush Limbaugh was quoted as saying that he wanted to like pope Francis and become a Catholic but now thinks that Francis is a communist. Or Ken Langone, the billionaire cofounder of Home Depot, who said that the pope's criticism of capitalism will scare away rich donors from contributing to the renovations of St. Patrick's in NY. I am not saying that the pope is perfect, but he is a pastor shining the light and it is disturbing. The hard thing for folks like us is we are the Empire now.
think of it this way, encountering Jesus, reading the gospels, coming to church, should be like walking into your dark bathroom on new Year's morning after being up all night and flipping on the light as you look in the mirror. Under that bright light, what do you see before a shower, shave or makeup? Why don't we get on the scale while we're at it? But it's not just looking at ourselves. It's looking at everything in our society that makes things the way they are.
put another way, it's sort of how I feel when I go to the doctor. Until recently, I went to the doctor expecting to hear how great I am. Now I go uneasy, worried about what problems he's going to find. But I go because I want to be well. And we come because we want to be well. We want the light of Christ to shine on our personal lives and our communal lives so that, as Jesus said, "we might know the truth and the truth might set us free."
since I came here four a half years ago, I have been preaching a pretty steady diet of sermons about living a spiritually aware life using my experience as the example for several reasons. First, because becoming spiritually aware is one side the light shining. Second, because my story is the only one I really know and borrowing from books or the internet seems inauthentic to me. Third, because those sorts of sermons give you a chance to know me and build a relationship. And fourth, because I know that cutting social criticism sermons can be difficult to hear and I have been testing the waters.
I see preaching as a conversation and I wanted to let you know I think it's time for us to go to the doctor regularly now. Ultimately, we come to stand in that bright light so that we can become the light, the particle and the wave, both electromagnetic radiation traveling through space carrying radiant energy and a disturbance or oscillation traveling through space and matter, accompanied by a transfer of energy.
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