All you need do is walk outside at night and see the sheer prevalence of darkness – according to astrophysicists 95% of the universe is dark. Thus says the Prophet Isaiah: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone.” Which do you believe in: the darkness or the light, the land of gloom or the abundant joy? Certainly there is sufficient evidence of darkness and thick clouds. Family troubles, money worries, health concerns can darken our horizon. The fog rolls in when we feel alone and unloved, when grief overwhelms us, when bitterness lingers. But church, the act of faith we make at Christmas is that no matter the darkness, no matter how thick the clouds, the light is stronger, the glory holds sway, the Lord shines. The Lord shines on us whenever we see the infinite possibility which is present when a child is born for us, a son is given us. The Lord shines on us whenever we face a fault or failing and seek forgiveness and healing. The Lord shines on us whenever we share a laugh, lend an ear, extend a hand. So it seems there is evidence for both the darkness and the light, for the thick clouds and the glory. Do we merely toss a coin about which aspect of reality carries more weight? Do we alternate between trusting in light one day and gloom the next? Or is it a matter of temperament – optimists believe in the sunshine, pessimists in the storm? The Bible has a different option altogether. According to the Bible, walking in the light is a matter of training. We learn how to see the glory which is behind every cloud. We need instruction if we are to notice the radiance around us. All of us would rather walk in the light, the beautiful light, rather than dwell in the land of gloom. The scripture readings for this feast of the Christmas provide some lessons in light-looking, in glory-gazing, in wonder-watching.
The story of Christmas, as St. Luke tells it, implies that the only way to walk in the light is by living courageously at this specific moment in history. The Evangelist situates the birth of the child at a specific moment in time and at a specific point in space – Caesar, Quirinius, Syria, Bethlehem. The coming of the light is not generic, is not a vague, ephemeral event. No, it occurs at one particular place, at that particular time. And the same is true of us. To truly enjoy the coming of the light at the birth of Jesus we must situate ourselves as well. We must resist the temptation to wish we were at another place besides south-side Chicago. We must resist the temptation to wish we were at another time besides our troubled age. No, the only way to walk in the light is today, here, now. It was no bed of roses for Joseph and Mary in welcoming the light into their lives. You try walking, or worse riding on a donkey, for the ninety miles that it takes to get from Nazareth to Bethlehem when you’re nine months pregnant and then trying to find a place to give birth when there is no room at the inn. But that was the time and place where God placed them and so they opened their eyes and saw the light of God’s presence in the child wrapped in swaddling clothes. Church, no matter how things seem to be going, God is at work here and now bringing something new and wonderful into the light for us.
The second lesson the Bible teaches us in light walking: know your own story. St. Luke tells us that the reason that Joseph and Mary were in Bethlehem was because Joseph was of the house and family of David. Joseph knew the back story of which had formed him. Even though he was not one for palaces and thrones and all the rest of the trappings of royalty, Joseph knew where he had come from and what that meant. The same is true for us. If we are to move out of the land of gloom and into the light we must remember our own story as well. St. James has been serving this community for 162 years. Many changes in the city, the neighborhood, the parish since then. The school closed. We lost our beautiful church. But the God who brought us this far by faith is not going to abandon us now. When we remember our story we know that God can make a way out of no way, that our God loves to surprise us. To find the light in these dark and difficult times, just tell the St. James story and come to trust that God still has a trick or two up the divine sleeve and will unfold the plan he has for us, a plan full of grace and peace.
And a final teaching on living in the light can be found in the first angelic word: “Do not be afraid.” That was the first thing the angel said to the shepherds. “Do not be afraid.” He didn’t start off with a “Merry Christmas” or a “Seasons Greetings” or even a “Ho, Ho, Ho.” Do not be afraid. I wonder if that is not the basic message of this season, if that is the reason we walk in the light. Because of the presence of God in our midst, because God is with us, Emmanuel, because his life was the light of the world, there is no fear. All those things that ordinarily terrify us – illness, financial collapse, diminishment, loneliness, depression, grief, loss, shame, yes, even death – all of this fades to nothingness in the bright light of this newborn infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. The Babe lights up our here and now present with the blessed assurance of divine presence in all things and through all things. The Babe illumines our story, our past, with meaning and significance. But perhaps most of all the Babe lights the way into the future. Do not be afraid. Our future is secure. All will be well, all manner of things will be well. Maybe the predominant feeling the angel conveyed to the shepherds, and hence to us, is hope. This child born as Wonder-Counselor and Prince of Peace lights our way with hope. It’s like we’re reading a suspense novel and to find out how the story comes out we skip to the end of the book. Whew, we say, the hero triumphs. Then we can go back and read the story with confidence in the outcome. That is Christmas. We know how the story comes out. We know that love is stronger than death. We know that generosity overcomes grudges, that compassion conquers cruelty, that humility drives out the humbug. Do not be afraid. We await with blessed hope. For at Bethlehem a candle was lit that grows until, like a mighty fireworks display with the 1812 Overture playing in the background, all that we are is bathed with the soft glow that is the glory of God in the highest. Church, it is the loftiest hope that is the surest of being fulfilled.
