Neighbor, O neighbor, it is time for us to learn to walk in the dark. The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? Who shall we fear?
“There is something about our notion of light and dark that is wrong. In this culture, light equals goodness and dark equals evil. It carries a moral claim that our racial mythology obscures, and is erroneous,” said the Rev. Otis Moss III.
Moss preached at the 9:15 a.m. Thursday morning worship service in the Amphitheater. His sermon title was “Learning to Walk in the Dark,” and the scripture reading was Psalm 27.
People think light is a color, Moss told the congregation — but light, he said, “is a collection of waves that our eyes perceive as color, like the sun being yellow or the sky blue. Daylight is solely an amalgamation of these waves.”
He continued, “To make the claim that light equals good and dark equals evil, that the absence of light is bad, means that God is limited. But God is not diminished; the sovereignty of God occupies light and dark. God is sovereign over the light and the dark. The Lord is my light and my salvation.”
Moss is an admirer of the Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor, who has been a chaplain and speaker at Chautauqua many times. She wrote the book Learning to Walk in the Dark. She calls the belief that God only inhabits the light “solar theology.”
Solar theology preaches that every prayer should always end with a sunny answer, that God always shows up to heal — and if we are faithful enough, all will be well.
“This theology ignores the Blues, it ignores Calvary. It can’t handle the fullness of humanity, it can’t handle pain and tragedy. It can’t produce art, because art needs conflict, because it is part of the human experience,” said Moss. “The Lord is my light and my salvation.”
But it is a tragedy if theology has too much light. God is in our darkest moments, Moss said. Whether I make my bed in heaven or in hell, God is present. All the light is in the dark.
“Everything is still there, we just can’t see it,” he said. “Our eyes can’t see these forms at night. Nocturnal animals have a wider spectrum so they can see what we can’t see in the night.”
And just because we can’t see it, doesn’t mean it is not there. Moss’ father used to tell him to turn off the light in his room; everything that was there before was still there.
“Our eyes only see what is called visible light, but light is present both day and night. But at night, we have to walk in a different cadence,” Moss said. “We can’t run. We have to use different senses, we have to feel, smell, and we can’t move as fast.”
This nation needs a dimming switch to witness the fullness of what God expects us to experience. “When someone passes, there is sickness and dysfunction, we walk not by sight but by faith,” Moss said. “Theologian James Cone said ‘Faith and risk are the same thing, and when we walk by faith we walk by risk.’ That is how we learn to walk in the dark. “
Moss believes that this nation has seen the sun go down, but God is still present. The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?
One translation of the word in Hebrew for “light” is “serenity.”
“The Lord is my serenity and my salvation, whom shall I fear? When we don’t know what will happen, when we are overwhelmed, the Lord is our serenity,” Moss said.
He told the congregation, “I refuse to give the night over to our enemies, because God is the God of day and night. God does his best work at night.”
Moss then gave the congregation a summation of things that happened at night.
God created the light out of the darkness of night. God took Abraham out at night to see the number of stars to show him how many descendants he would have. Jacob had a dream at night and wrestled with an angel at night. Joseph had dreams at night. Israel left Egypt at night, went through the Red Sea at night and there was a fiery pillar to guide them at night. Joshua walked around Jericho night and day. David wrote Psalm 51 at night. Ezekiel saw the wheel and the valley of the dry bones at night.
Jesus was born at night and it became night when he was crucified. The women went to the tomb early in the morning — that is, at night.
Harriet Tubman freed 300 people from enslavement at night. Frederick Douglass wrote about freedom at night. Nat Turner began his rebellion at night. The Emancipation Proclamation went into effect at night. The 13th Amendment was written at night. The NAACP was formed at night. Marcus Garvey began his crusade at night. Trade unionist A. Philip Randolph organized the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters at night. Historic Black Colleges and Universities were formed at night. Raphael Warnock learned he was elected at night.
“And we will learn that Donald Trump was defeated and Kamala Harris is president at night,” Moss said. “God does the best work at night.”
Moss and his wife Monica went to Ethiopia in 2017 and visited the town of Lalibela, a holy space with 12 rock-hewn churches that can only be seen from the sky. To get into the sanctuary of one church, worshippers need to walk for 4 minutes and 36 seconds in the dark to get to the light.
The guide, named Teddy, “had the group line up and hold on to the person in front of them. He told the group, ‘Listen to my voice and hold on to the person in front of you.’ You have to keep moving to get to the light.”
The group lined up by height, and that meant Moss was at the very end. “I could not see a thing, but one by one, as the group got to the sanctuary, they said ‘I see the light,’ ” he said. “I was still about third from the last when I finally saw some light and when I saw the first bit, I said, ‘I see the light.’ ”
He told the congregation, “We can’t walk by ourselves. We need to hold on to people who have been through the dark and have seen the light, who know there is joy in the morning. We have to walk, rest, praise and step into the dark. We have to learn to walk, to move, to keep walking.”
Then Moss walked across the stage. “We walk by faith and not by sight because eventually we will see the light.”
Again this week, the congregation stood and applauded.
Melissa Spas, vice president for religion at Chautauqua, presided. The Rev. Rachel Stuart, senior pastor of Hurlbut Memorial Community United Methodist Church, read the scripture. The prelude, played by Owen Reyda, 2024 organ scholar, on the Massey Memorial Organ, was “Rhosymedre,” by Ralph Vaughan Williams. For the anthem, the Motet Choir sang, “O for a closer walk,” music by C. V. Stanford and text by William Cowper. The choir was under the direction of Joshua Stafford, director of sacred music and the Jared Jacobsen Chair for the Organist and accompanied by Reyda on the Massey Organ. For the postlude, Stafford played “Alla Marcia,” by John Ireland. Support for this week’s chaplaincy and services is provided by the Gladys R. Brasted and the Adair Brasted Gould Memorial Chaplaincy and the Daney-Holden Chaplaincy fund.