"Tend to the Night"

“Tend to the Night”
Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood
First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS
Matthew 2 and Isaiah 60:-1-6
January 1, 2017


When I was a teenager, Jesus showed up in my room in the middle of the night and sat at the foot of my bed. I know, I know...it sounds a little...um….mystical. And it was. It was totally dark in my room but when I woke in the middle of the night I saw this figure sitting on the edge of my bed, down by my feet. And I didn’t just see it, I could also feel the pressure on my bed from the person sitting there. Not moving. Not talking. Just sitting.


To this day, I can’t really describe it, but I can still conjure up the exact feeling I had when it happened. This incredibly warm feeling like all was right in the world. I wasn’t surprised or scared. I just sort of thought, “Oh, hey. It’s Jesus. Of course he would be sitting here in the middle of the night.” And I went right back to sleep.


Was it a dream? Was it real? Who knows? Does it matter?


Dreams exist in this troubling in-between space. Not quite made up, not quite real. They come from within and without.


Our brain creates them, but those who, like me, tend to view the world through a more spiritual lens also see them as being linked to God in some way. To this day, I don’t know whether it was my brain playing tricks on me or God sending me a message that caused me to see Jesus at the foot of my bed. I think it was probably a little of both because I have an understanding of God as here with us now and within us. So God, like dreams, is always within and without.


What I do know is that the vision of Jesus I had as a teenager stuck with me in real ways. As I’ve grown older, the things I believe about God have become a shorter and shorter list. But the one thing that has never wavered for me is that God exists and is with us at all times. I think, perhaps, that’s why I was unsurprised and undisturbed to find Jesus watching over me at night.


I wonder if Joseph was surprised and disturbed when the Spirit of God came to him in a dream?


Not just one dream, but four. The Gospel of Matthew if full of dreams from God. In fact, dreams drive the plot in the early chapters of this gospel. An angel appears to Joseph in a dream telling him to take Mary as his wife...and he does. An angel appears to Joseph in a dream and tells him to flee to Egypt with his wife and young son...and he does. An angel appears to Joseph in a dream telling him it’s safe to return to Israel….so he goes. And then a little later, an angel appears to Joseph in a dream and says, “Well, maybe I need to be more specific, you should go to Galilee”...so they change course.


And it’s not just Joseph who is the recipient of these dreams. Remember the Magi? After following the star to the place where the baby lay, they also received a message from God in a dream. “Having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they returned by another way…”


Dreams come at night. They come in the quiet stillness of the dark. And they require our mindfulness. How many nights do you sleep soundly and then wake and jump right into your daily tasks without even pondering your dreams? I know I do. All too often.


But dreams are a gift to us. A gift that comes in the night. A gift that arrives when we are resting. If we are too afraid to be present in the night, we will not receive the gift of dreaming. If we are too busy to rest, dreams will not come. Some dreams may be a gift from God, but they also require our active participation and awareness.


Joseph’s dreams and the dreams of the Magi reminds me that we must tend to the night.


If we shy away from the darkness, we miss out on the fullness of life. It always strikes me as strangely comforting when our attention is yanked so quickly from the peaceful, sleeping babe in the manger to the chaotic flight of the Holy Family to Egypt. While the world lies in solemn stillness, the powers of Empire are still conniving, still warring, still fearing the power of Love.


King Herod is afraid. And because he is afraid, he allows Evil to control his actions. The story of the Massacre of the Innocents is horrific. So afraid of Jesus’s rising star, the King orders all babies under the age of two killed. It’s an act that seems inconceivable. And yet similar stories play out on the nightly news in our own time. Tyrants fear and tremble...and the people who pay the price are always the most vulnerable.


How could this story bring comfort? As horrific as it is, it brings me comfort because it reminds me that our God is big enough to be present in the fullness of our lives. Our God does not shy away from the night. Our God does not leave us to contemplate the horrors humans inflict on one another alone. Our God arrives again and again - in the midst of idyllic manger scenes, yes, but also in the horrors of war and violence. When the bombs fall, God is there. When tyrants fear and tremble, God is there. When parents weep, God is there. God is always tending to the night.


The stories of pain that are present in the birth narratives remind me that we, too, are to live as children of the night. Though we humans may naturally find ourselves afraid of the unknown, there are gifts to be found in the dark. Our culture has a way of trying to elevate “light” to be “good” and darkness to be “bad.” This is problematic not just because of the culture of white supremacy we live in, but also because it reinforces an either-or worldview….as if we need to somehow choose light or dark.


But the light only matters because of the dark. Light without darkness becomes meaningless. The Star in the East was there all day long...but the observers only saw it at night. Because light inside of more light becomes meaningless. It is overlooked.


What we need as humans is the fullness of both light and dark - the gifts and promises of both - to take root more fully in our spirits.


When we honor the light and the dark...when we allow ourselves to seek God’s presence in both, then we become like the wise Magi. The ones who notified the star at its rising and were curious enough to follow it. You know, I assume everyone could see the star, but not everyone was willing to travel at night and follow it to the place where Jesus lay. The Magi were willing to tend to the night and they were rewarded by worshiping at the feet of Jesus.


The prophet Isaiah said, “The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light….” Please notice that he did not say the darkness disappeared. No, the light came in the midst of the darkness and they co-existed. For this is what it means to be human. To honor both the bright sun of the day and the deep blue of the midnight sky. To rejoice when the moon begins its dance of waxing once again and to marvel when the New Moon means there is utter darkness in the land.


To remember that there are gifts to be found when we allow ourselves to tend to the night.


To know in our hearts that our God is not afraid of the dark. Our God lives and moves and has her being in the night as well as in the day.


I am reminded of that sense of utter peace and rootedness I had when I awoke and found Jesus sitting at the foot of my bed. I knew in every fiber of my being that there was no place I could be that God would not go.


And so, in confidence, with the dreamers and wanderers, I proclaim….


Where parents worry and fret….God is with us, we are not alone.


Where sages wonder and wander...God is with us, we are not alone.


Where people hope for the Prince of Peace...God is with us, we are not alone.


Where the bombs fall and beautiful lives are extinguished...God is with us, we are not alone.


Where refugees flee under the cover of night...God is with us, we are not alone.


Where tyrants fear and tremble….God is with us, we are not alone.


In the night...God is with us, we are not alone.


In the day...God is with us, we are not alone.


Thanks be to God. Amen.