Light in the Dark

Jack Hardaway

“Father Jack”, as he is affectionately known, has served the parishioners of Grace Episcopal Church as their rector since 2004.

Epiphany 5a 2026; 8 Feb.

Matt. 5:13-20; Jack Hardaway

                        Light in the Dark

I was in high school visiting friends in the hills of Tennessee.  There were some caves, high up in the hills that they had heard of so we gathered some rope and flashlights and packed lunch to go caving.  What could possibly go wrong?

Short story long, stuck in a cave with a dead flashlight, waiting to be found.  Darkness, absolute and complete.  I could see sparks in my eyes it was so dark.  Nothing like I have ever not seen before or not seen since.  The rest of the group caught up in a little while, so it wasn’t a catastrophe, but it was simply darkness, unbounded.  There was no direction, no map, no compass, no guide, until light slowly filled the cave as our friends grew near.

It was the sudden collapse of the universe for this sixteen year old.

I would guess that many of us have our lost in the dark stories.

Some literal.  Some figurative; except not figurative darkness, true darkness.

Longing and waiting for a hint of light guiding us back to a world that holds together.

Getting lost in the dark.

Looking for a light in the storm, to guide us to safe passage, safe harbor.

You are light.  You are salt.  The law and the prophets are fulfilled in Jesus not done away with.

We are into the meat of the Sermon on the Mount now.  We started last week with the beatitudes.  Chapters 5, 6 and 7 of Matthew’s Gospel, that is the sermon.

Jesus completes and fulfills the law and the prophets with his life and his teaching in these three chapters.

If you want a clear project for the quickly approaching season of Lent, an act of devotion that really means something, read those three chapters, over and over again between now and Easter.

Matthew 5, 6 and 7.

Light in a world that has lost all direction in the darkness.  Take it in and become that light.

The Sunday lectionary in theory covers most of these three chapters, but it is rare, almost impossible, Easter breaks up how the lectionary works, so that like this year we only get two parts of chapter five.  It is the great failing of the Sunday lectionary that the Sermon on the Mount is missed out on almost entirely when it comes up every three years.

Our souls are malformed because of this.  There is less light.  Less salt.

Read all three chapters, over and over, slowly, inwardly digest, let the light fill you, let the salt bring out the flavor of what life is really about.

Jesus stands on the mountain like Moses and he brings these three chapters to the world like Moses brought the Decalogue.  Fulfilling the law and the prophets, filling them up, completing them, bringing to completion.  That is Jesus. That is his sermon.

We live in a legalistic and moralistic culture and American Christianity is a legalistic and moralistic tradition of faith.

What that means is that we break the rules and God punishes us.  Salvation then becomes a way to save us from God, faith becomes an escape from an impossible standard.  That is the American Gospel, God saves us from God.  It’s a mess.  A bad reading of scripture and faith.

In the New Testament, and in the early Church, and in ancient Judaism, the Law and the Prophets are not an impossible standard to be escaped from.  A list of rules to trick God into liking us until God rescues us from God.

Imagine the universe being overwhelmed by an acidic storm that is always eroding it, creation is always being dissolved, and God is always bringing it back together.  We aren’t being rescued from God, we are being rescued from that storm of devouring chaos.

God pulls us back together when we fall apart.

The Apostle Paul calls that storm the power of sin and death, always erupting in the midst of the ordinary stuff of life, bring it to naught.  Much like addiction in its many forms.  Much like violence in its many forms.

The Law and the Prophets, rightly understood, are the light calling us home.  The home that shelters us from that storm of devouring madness.  Home where life is sheltered and safe, where life can grow and flourish.

A house in the storm whose light calls us home from the darkness.

The Sermon on the Mount is Jesus’ teaching.  It is Jesus’ body.  It is the fullness and completeness of the home where creation is complete and lively.

Build that home.  Be that home.

When we lose the moral compass.  When we lose the shelter for life to flourish.  When we as a people are lost in darkness.  Lost in the cave with a dead flashlight.

This is where we start over, with this sermon, the fulfillment, the fullness and completeness of God’s house, Jesus’ body.

Light, salt, the completeness of the home where life can grow again.

That is the Gospel.

We are not left alone with the absolute darkness.

Friends are near, shining the way home.

Be those friends.  Fulfill.  Complete.