Podcast Summaries

comes from the Gospel of John, chapter 8, starting at verse 12, and it can be found on page 104 in the New Testament section of the Church Bibles. Again, Jesus spoke to them, saying, I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life. Then the Pharisees said to him, You are testifying on your own behalf. Your testimony is not valid. Jesus answered, Even if I testify on my own behalf, my testimony is valid because I know where I have come from and where I am going. But you do not know where I come from or where I am going. You judge by human standards. I judge no one. Yet, even if I do judge, my judgment is valid, for it is not I alone who judge, but I and the Father who sent me. In your law, it is written that the testimony of two witnesses is valid. I testify on my own behalf, and the Father who sent me testifies on my behalf. Then they said to him, Where is your father? Jesus answered, You know neither me nor my father. If you knew me, you would know my father also. He spoke these words while he was teaching in the treasury of the temple. But no one arrested him because his hour had not yet come. This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God. Great. Thank you, Andrew. And before we get stuck into that passage, why don't I pray? Father God, we pray that you would send your Spirit upon my speaking and all our listening, that we would hear you in our hearts and that you would draw us to yourself and we would be changed more and more into the likeness of your Son, Jesus Christ. Amen. When you were very little, were you afraid of the dark? I certainly was. I have a dim memory of a four-year-old me unable to reach the hallway light switch racing up the stairs to get to the safety of my bedroom. And I have another memory a few years later of lying in bed staring and staring and staring at the hallway light through the half-open door trying to keep unknown and unnamed terrors at bay. It's natural to be afraid of the dark, so it's natural also to think of the goodness of light. Light means warmth, comfort, security, guidance, healing, and hope. But because we're most aware of the light in the middle of the darkness, our positive images of light, the things that spring to mind when we think of the goodness of light, tend to be quite small scale. We think of the candle flickering in the darkness, the log burning on the hearth, the torch that saves the lost traveler. And that means that when we hear the words of Jesus, I am the light of the world, there is a danger. There is a danger that the images and the connections that spring to mind are the small scale comforting ones. Christ, a flickering candle flame. Christ, a glowing log. Christ, a lantern in the night. So if we had to paint a picture of the Christ who is the light of the world, we might well paint something like this. Can we have, there we go. It's a bit dim, it's a bit faint, but you probably just about make it out. William Holman Hunt's very famous painting of Jesus as the light of the world. Painted in the early 1850s, it hangs in Keeble College, Oxford. Now, I don't know if you know the painting, but, and you might just be able to make it out, that we have here a blonde, Saxon Jesus in a nightdress. So we overlook that. What I want you to notice is that the light that Jesus carries is pretty feeble. What message does that send? Jesus is the one who comes in the night to bring a scrap of comfort, a glimmer of hope to my troubled heart. Well, that's not entirely wrong, but if we want to paint a picture which captures something of the claim that Jesus is making in today's Bible reading, we should probably look at something like this instead. So let's, here we go. Here we have, the title of this painting is The Israelites Passing Through the Wilderness Preceded by the Pillar of Light. William West painted this in 1845, just a few years before Holman Hunt's painting. And you don't even have to go to Oxford to go and have a look at it because it hangs in the Bristol Art Gallery and Museum. Now, do you see how little the people are? You might not even be able to see the people. They're tiny, like ants there to the left of the pillar of light, streaming along. And you can just about make out their tiny, minuscule arc of the covenant there being carried by four mini-priests there at the bottom of the picture. You can see the mountains on either side looming, dark and terrifying, and the sun is setting blood red over Egypt there, back left. And then this great shaft of light breaks through from the heavens, shattering the darkness, blessing their journey, and leading them home. Jesus says, I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life. Let's wind back a bit. Our Lent sermon series is taking us through the Gospel of John, looking at the great I am claims that Jesus makes. Last week, those of you who were here will remember back in chapter 6, we thought about the feeding of the 5,000 and the claim Jesus makes, I am the bread of life. He makes that claim, you'll remember, in direct response to a reminder about the bread that God gave to Israel in the wilderness, the manna. For an Israelite, that was the bread that miraculously came down from heaven, the bread in the wilderness. And Jesus says, no, that's just a picture. I am the true bread from heaven given to you by God for your spiritual nourishment. I am the God who gives you bread. Today's reading comes from the next section in John's Gospel. The beginning of chapter 7, the chapter before our chapter, tells us that it takes place about six months after the feeding of the 5,000 during the Feast of Tabernacles. Now, the Feast of Tabernacles was one of the biggest feasts in the Jewish calendar. In fact, there's some evidence that it was the most popular feast of all of them. It took place in the autumn after the grape and olive harvest. So people are feeling generally relaxed and happy. And the festival was designed to call to mind in a fun way the time when the people of Israel had escaped from slavery in Egypt and gone through the wilderness towards the promised land. So everyone would descend on Jerusalem. They would build tents to live in. And they would have an enormous week-long party.

So, long evenings of feasting and music, singing and dancing. Think Jewish Glastonbury without the mud. Yeah? Now, central to the Feast of Tabernacles were two ceremonies, religious ceremonies, a water-drawing ceremony and a lamp-lighting ceremony. The water-drawing ceremony reminded them of Moses striking the rock in the desert and producing water for them to drink. If you know your John's Gospel, Jesus stands up in chapter 7 saying, If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. He's not just the manna from heaven, he's the water from the rock as well. The lamp-lighting ceremony took place in the outer courtyard of the temple. Loads and loads of lights lit up on the first evening. Contemporary observers said that it was so bright, relatively speaking, oil lamps of course, it was so bright that the whole of Jerusalem was lit up by it. It reminded them of the pillar of fire because the Lord God was their light and he had led them all the way home to himself. Today's reading, Jesus stands up, surprise, surprise, in the outer courtyard of the temple, that's there in verse 20, and he says, I am the light of the whole world. Do you begin to get a sense of the scale of Jesus' claim? He is the manna, he is the water, he is the light, he is everything. It's a claim that's central to the whole Gospel. I'm sure you remember how this Gospel opens. In him, in Jesus, was life and that life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. That contrast between light and darkness comes up again and again and again. But this is not just a scrap of comfort in a dark place. This is not Jesus in a nightie with a lantern. This is a claim to be the light of God himself, breaking through the heavens, shattering the darkness, blessing our journey and leading us home. Well, the Pharisees, the religious teachers, they are not happy. And in today's reading, we get a bit of that tension, that conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees. That's what I want to look at in a bit more detail. So let's have the slide off. I think we've finished with that now. Open up your Bibles if you would, page 104 in the back part of the Bible, the New Testament, John chapter 8, verses 12 to 20. As we look at these verses there in the Bible, we're going to see two things. Goodbye to our lovely team. Have a great time with your service. Page 104, John chapter 8, verse 12 to 20. We're going to see two things. We'll see first that Jesus knows what he's talking about. And secondly, we'll see that there's a consequence. So let his light shine on you. First then, Jesus knows what he's talking about. After I finished school, I worked for a month or so in Dingles on the Triangle, the department store. Do you remember Dingles? If you do, it dates you. It closed 26 years ago. Can you believe it? I was looking after their small toy and book department. We didn't sell very much. It was just after Christmas and it was pretty quiet. But one day, a youngish man comes in looking rather bohemian and pointing to one of the books on display, he says to me, you shouldn't be selling that book. Oh, why not? It's bad. Very bad. OK, well, what's so bad about it? It's bad because I say so. Sorry, what? I mean, who exactly are you? He said, I'm not joking. He said, I am the Tao. I am the way. You have to believe in me. You'll be surprised to hear they didn't cover this situation in my training. But I remember thinking, hang on, hang on. That is still circular. Either he is or he isn't. And if he is, he really is. And if he isn't, he really isn't. Now, here's the point. Jesus's claim about himself massively raises the stakes. You see, sensible people, wise people, good people, they don't overclaim. They don't overclaim about themselves. They see themselves in the bright light of day and they admit that they don't amount to very much. But Jesus's words about himself are vast. I am the manna. I am the water. I am the light. I am everything. Yet they still carry conviction. They have the ring of truth. People still become Christians simply by reading the Gospels. We must never underestimate the power of Jesus's testimony about himself. Whenever we feel unsure whether Christ really is the light of the world, and let's be honest, there are times when we have doubts. Turn back, first of all, to his own words about himself. And he would say that is actually the whole of Scripture. Turn back to his words about himself because his words testify to who he is. That's the first reason for thinking that Jesus knows what he's talking about. But then he says, okay, okay, if you are looking for two witnesses, as the Jewish law requires, I will give you another witness, a second witness. That's verses 17 and 18. In your law is written the testimony of two witnesses is valid. I testify on my own behalf and the Father who sent me testifies on my behalf. Jesus's second witness is the Father. Well, how does the Father witness?

to the Son. We get a clue from Jesus's prayer at the tomb of Lazarus in chapter 11. This is chapter 11, verses 41 and 42. Just before Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead, he prays this prayer, and he says, Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here so that they may believe that you sent me. Do you get the point? The Father witnesses to the Son by enabling him to do works of power that point to who he is. Have you noticed how the miracles of Jesus recorded in John match the claims that Jesus makes? Jesus feeds 5,000 people with bread and claims, I am the bread of life. He says, I am the resurrection and the life, and in case you're not convinced, he raises a dead man. In chapter 9, he repeats the claim, I am the light of the world, and he restores the sight of a man born blind. God the Father puts his stamp of authenticity on the words of Christ by giving him divine power to do miraculous works of healing and restoration, works that match the claims that Jesus makes about himself. And by the end of the gospel, John wants us to know that here is someone so powerful that death itself cannot hold him in its grip. Jesus knows what he's talking about. So, secondly, let his light shine on you. A few moments ago, I mentioned that John's gospel is full of courtroom language. One of the words that keeps on cropping up in John's gospel is judgment. We had it in today's reading. It's there in verse 16, 15 and 16, I judge no one. Now, what Jesus has to say about judgment is a bit confusing because Jesus says several things about judgment. In today's passage, as I just pointed out, he says, I pass judgment on no one, verse 16, and we cheer for that, but he immediately goes on to say, if I do judge, and in the next chapter, chapter 9, verse 39, he says what seems at first to be the exact opposite. He says, I came into this world for judgment, chapter 9, 39. So, what's going on there? It's a bit confusing. Does Jesus judge us or does he not judge us? Jesus does not judge us in the sense that he accepts us whoever we are. That's the context of this statement in chapter 8. Nothing we can do can surprise him. Nothing we can do can stop him from loving us. We are always welcomed. He has no favourites. Whoever you are, wherever you have been, whatever you have done, he wants you to have the light of life. But in our reaction to him, the judgment of God is revealed. Judgment is all about dividing. We judge true from false, good from evil, innocent from guilty. And when people come face to face with Jesus, there is always a division. Some go one way, some go the other. We're like the thieves on the cross. Some reject him, some turn to him for mercy and hope. That division is a divine judgment. The light that Jesus brings into the world provokes a similar division, a similar judgment. This is how Jesus puts it himself in chapter 3 when he's talking to Nicodemus. You might want to just flick back a page or two to that. Chapter 3, verses 19 to 21 on page 97. Jesus says this, And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people love darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God. Do you see the division? Now, the Pharisees who confront Jesus in this passage, they don't want to recognize him. They make one excuse after another. As we read the gospel, we see them making these excuses. Where is your father? Where have you come from? You're a Sabbath breaker and a sinner. You saying we're blind? Away with you. That hostile reaction to Jesus is the division, the judgment. I started this sermon by asking whether you were afraid of the dark. It's natural enough to be afraid of the dark. But in a spiritual sense, Jesus says it's the other way around. It's natural to be afraid of the light. We hide ourselves away from God. And when we can't avoid him, we sew fig leaves to cover our shame. Are you afraid of the light? That natural instinct to shy away from the light doesn't completely disappear when we start to follow Jesus. It lingers on. And we need to remember that if we're going to walk in his light. A couple of weeks ago, I wanted to look under the landing floorboards at home to see what was going on with the central heating. It was quite hard finding a way in. But eventually I managed to get a panel of wood off the front of a step and I shone my torch in under the floorboards. My word. Scraps of old lino, chunks of plaster, broken Bakelite electrical fittings, slices of copper pipe, rusty nails, cobwebs and dust, dust everywhere. For a moment I was tempted just to shut it all back in. We have lived with this for over 20 years in blissful ignorance. Does it really matter? It can stay. Then I said to myself, no, no, come on, come on, Julian, get a plastic bag, dustpan and brush. Get on the gloves. Let's get this cleaned up. Every so often in the Christian life, as we spend time with Jesus, listening to his words, we become conscious that he has lifted a floorboard in our hearts and shone his torch in. We suddenly notice or realize that lurking inside us is some long cherished anger or resentment, some disappointed desire, perhaps a painful loss, a fear for the future, a tendency to complain, grumble, perhaps a bad habit we can't break. As I say, we're suddenly reminded or made conscious of this stuff, this burden that we carry around. Most of the time we're not even aware it's there, but it bubbles up. And then we face a decision. Do I shut it all in again or do I bring it into Jesus's light? We need to remember that it's natural to be afraid of the light. It's natural to instinctively go, let's not go there. But you know, when that happens, we need to have an honest conversation with our souls. The psalmist is always talking to his soul. We need to do the same thing. Come on, dear soul, are you still afraid of the light? Do you not trust Jesus who loves you and who died for you? Won't you let him shine his light into this hidden corner of your heart? Will you not ask him to lift this burden from you, this burden of shame or regret, resentment, fear, to give you strength to let it go? Don't you believe that he has come to bring you the light of life? Don't you know that he is all forgiveness, all satisfaction, all comfort, all security, all hope? What are you hanging on to? Jesus knows what he's talking about. So let his light shine on you. That's what it means to walk in his light. This is Christ, breaking through the heavens, shattering the darkness, blessing our journey and leading us home. Amen.