Christmas Eve 2010
Isaiah 9:2-7
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness--on them light has shined.
I am remembering tonight another night, one that seemed to me longer than this night will, even to all the seven-year-olds in the world who think having to wait for morning is a kind of torture. I’m thinking of a long night spent in the woods, camping by a river, a night when the moon and stars disappeared only a little while before the rains came. The night filled quickly with thunder and lightning and the threat of rising water. The tent I was in offered only protection from the rain. It would be worth nothing if lightning found a nearby tree or the river came up as it was know to do. It was a long night of blackness, loud noises and dark fear. I bristled in that night, waiting for terrible news and knowing it could come. The dark of that night was met by a darkness in me. It was a long night. I don’t remember if I slept at all, but I remember mists on the water the the next morning, a gentle rain, and and a similarly gentle light. Light.
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. This is the night of impossible light, breaking, dawning. The story of Jesus’ birth resonates with the poem from Isaiah about the new light. That is the theme for this evening. Light breaking in and dispelling even the worst darkness. This theme of Jesus being the light of the world is an old one, older even than the creeds or the theological constructs about who Jesus is. This theme was known before we even talked about Trinity, or tried to explain how Jesus and God fit together. It is ancient.
On the Diane Rehm show this week, I heard an interview with a fellow who had written a dissertation on an obscure document from the Vatican’s vaults called the Revelation of the Magi. It was an account, claiming to have been written by the Magi who traveled to Bethlehem and found Jesus. It was written in the first person by one of them, and though there are problems with the authenticity of it’s authorship, it does seem to have been written within a hundred years of the event and it tells an interesting story of those wise men and what they experienced. It says, for one thing, that there were at least ten Magi. Ten names are listed. There may have been more because some of the language used indicates numbers approaching those of a small army. But the most interesting part of the story for me was the part about the star they followed. According to the wise man writing the story, they followed the star until it fell from the sky and became the baby in the manger. Long before the councils of Nicea or Constantinople, here was a story of Jesus being the light of the world.
From the beginning it seems, the faithful made the connection between Jesus and the poem from the prophet Isaiah. The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness--on them light has shined. …..For a child has been born for us, a son given to us…...he is named wonderful counselor, mighty God, everlasting father, prince of peace….. The light is not just light it is more. We hear of joy, exhultation, freedom-- the yoke across our shoulders you have broken. We hear of peace, justice and righteousness. Scholars think Isaiah may have been writing about a new prince born in his own time, one who was a sign of God’s favor and continuing care. The people who first associated this poem with Jesus had this poem in their memory. It was a part of the story they had grown up with, it was a part of their story. And what is always amazing to me and what provides for me a powerful witness to Jesus effect on his world, is that those folks went looking for a way to grasp their experience of Jesus and fixed on this poem about light. When Jesus was born, a new light was breaking into the world, a light that would put and end to darkness.
Maybe you have a story about light. Maybe you have stories like mine about light dispelling fear, or maybe you remember looking into clouds after a storm and seeing those brightly lit holes that look little kingdoms in the sky. Maybe you have wondered irf you could walk in such places. Maybe you know a cat that loves a piece of sun on the floor on a cold day, or you remember lying in the grass in April after a long winter, soaking in the first new warmth of the new year. Maybe your light memory is purely metaphorical. Maybe you know about the light that is the long awaited phone call saying all is well, someone has arrived safely, the wait is over. Somewhere in your story, I hope there is a moment in which you not only saw a great light, but felt it, knew its power, were warmed in some way that you still recall. This night the theme is very simply that a great light has broken upon our lives. This is the night when all we need to do is bask in that light, enjoy its glow, feel its warmth.
Don’t get me wrong. Jesus coming into our world makes a big difference in all areas of our lives. There is much we need to consider in response to the incarnation. There is work to do, theology to consider, things to change, mostly ourselves. The implications of the incarnation have been reverberating through the universe for two thousand years. There is much to do. But all that will keep. Tonight it is enough to stop for a while and take in once again the beginning of the Jesus story. Tonight it is enough to remember that as soon as Jesus had gone, people began to think of stories about light. Stories about promise and God’s faithfulness, as sure as the sunrise. JB
