One year, at my church’s Christmas Eve candlelight service, in a contemplative moment as the congregation gazed silently upon the Christ candle, a small voice cried out in the darkness: “Hey—Somebody turn on the lights!” I think that little voice understood the purpose of Christ’s entry into the world better than any of us caught up in the soft glow of the moment. She understood that darkness is frightening, and we need someone to bring light into our lives.
I laugh when I remember the story a friend tells of his family’s annual Christmas gathering. He told me about watching his three-year-old niece open her gifts. As each gift was handed to her, she would tear off the ribbon and paper with a shout and then set the unopened box aside, having no idea the gift was still within. She would say with great sincerity, “Thank you, it’s just what I wanted!” and then reach for the next present. It took nearly every adult in the room to convince her the gift was more than the wrapping. At Christmas and after, the paper and tinsel can be so pretty that we forget to move beyond the glamour of it to the substance of the gift we’ve been given. It is tempting to get so caught up in the moment that we cannot look deeper into what is most important. Our worship and devotion can fall short of living in the true light that has entered the world and remains.
Marilynne Robinson once wrote similarly about (of all things) lawn sprinklers. She thinks that garden sprinklers do something lovelier than simply watering grass. They also expose water droplets to sunlight, and for a moment, you see each drop as a jewel refracting the light and revealing the shimmering rainbow that always surrounds us, though we don’t always perceive it. The essence of both light and water is revealed in the same moment. It reminds us of the Christmas glory that engulfs us every day of the year, though we easily miss it once the season is behind us.
“We have seen his glory,” John writes in his Gospel (John 1:14). But he also reminds us that the glory of that one and only sent from the Father is often missed: “He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.” (John 1:11) Glory surrounds us, but we so easily miss it.
In my student days I attended a service at Duke Chapel when a famous preacher was scheduled to preach. At the end of the service, one of my classmates asked, “How was worship?” “I don’t know, it didn’t really grab me,” I replied. I’m ashamed to remember those words now. I had not come to see the true light, to praise God and receive the gift of grace in the Word made flesh. I came to be enthralled by words spoken by someone famous. We are part of the church for no reason other than that we recognize Jesus is the light of the world, the light we need because the world is dark and frightening.
After your poinsettias start to droop and the last echoes of your favorite carol evaporate, even when the glittering lamps meant to lift up Christ do not dazzle, you can still bring your whole self with praise and thanksgiving to God. Jesus Christ is still the light of the world when the last ornament is put away. The light shines in our darkness and the darkness will not overcome it!
Thanks be to God!
Grace and Peace,