Lighting the Way

O come, Thou Day-Spring

Come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death’s dark shadows put to flight

—O Come, O Come Emanuel, verse 3

Darkness is a natural phenomenon, woven into the fabric of life on Earth: the sun rises and sets each day as the Earth rotates; night follows day in a rhythmic pattern.  Here in Maryland, this is the time of year when darkness reigns. Those first few nights after we “fall back” to Standard Time in mid-November are always a shock to my system.  All of a sudden, it’s dark at 4:30 in the afternoon!  How dare the sun go away that early?  What brain trust came up with the idea of taking away an hour of daylight in the afternoon, to give it to the morning?  Those long midsummer evenings during which we enjoyed outdoor activities seem like a distant memory.  The trees shed the last of their withered leaves and the darkness and bareness of winter advances. The darkness and bleakness can drag us down a bit.  Extended time in darkness can have health impacts;  Seasonal Affective Disorder is a temporary malaise linked to lack of sun exposure.

It can sometimes be challenging to “believe in the sun” when it isn’t shining. This is especially true when the darkness is prolonged, or when the clouds of doom and fog of despair seem impenetrable. Try as we might to “beat the darkness”—it eventually gets the better of all of us.  We use artificial lights to fend of darkness as best we can, but left to depend on human power alone, eventually the darkness will prevail.

In the movie, The Two Towers, the Lady Galadriel gives Frodo a phial—a piece of Eårendil, the beloved Elven Star. She hopes it will be a light to him in dark places when all other lights go out.  He puts it aside and almost forgets about it—until the moment he is in the lair of a huge spider demon creature named Shelob, a hellish place where no mortal light can penetrate the darkness.  Frodo uses the piece of immortal light that Galadriel gave him to drive away Shelob and find his way to freedom.

Scriptures tell similar stories of light shining in darkness against all odds—probably because Tolkien was at least somewhat inspired by God’s Story when he wrote his epic tale of Middle Earth. Consider, for example, this passage we read during Advent:

But there will be no gloom for those who were in anguish. In the former time, he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he will make glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.  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. —Isaiah 9:1-2

The Prophet Isaiah addresses people sitting in darkness. In this context, the darkness is the loneliness and isolation that comes from many years spent living in exile in Babylon, far from their homeland. Isaiah does not mince words; there will be judgment for their failure to honor God—but after the exile would come restoration (salvation).  Jerusalem will once again shine; Israel will be a light to the nations.

Later in history, the Jewish people once again dwelled in darkness, this time oppressed by Rome, with no word from God for over 400 years. They waited for a savior—a Messiah—who would come and set them free. Christians believe that Jesus was indeed that long-expected Messiah. The Creator became part of his creation.  God became human in every way, even going so far as to experience death on a cross for the Creation he so loved.  By becoming so thoroughly human, God saved us in every way a person could be saved.  Jesus’s resurrection showed us that even the ultimate darkness—death—could not stop the Light of the World from shining.

The opening of John’s Gospel proclaims that in Jesus, this Light of the World has come, and will never be overcome by the world’s darkness—John 1:1-5. Although we  humans tend to cling fiercely to our comfortable darkness—John 3:19—if we allow it, the Light that Jesus brings into our lives, and into our world, can put darkness into full retreat. To say another way, in Jesus, God provides the only power source that will never fail us.  Eventually all human lights fail, but the Light of the World is eternal.

Today we believe the Light of the World is present with us through the Holy Spirit.   During Advent we sing, Come Thou Long Expected Jesus, because we recognize we still need “rescue” from the darkness of our present world.  We also anticipate Jesus’s second coming, when he will judge the world and, in the words of N.T. Wright,  “ put the world to rights”. Advent is thus a time to prepare.  After all, if the King is coming, we need to roll up our sleeves and get “cleaned up” for his arrival.   We can start doing the work of remaking the world now, that we believe Jesus will bring to completion when he returns. Just like John the Baptist prepared the way for Jesus’s first coming, we are the ones who prepare the way for his second coming.

Paul reminds us repeatedly in his letters that Christ dwells in us and we dwell in Christ. Teresa of Avila said that: “Christ has no body here but ours, no hands, no feet on earth but ours…”  To me, that means that if the Light of the World is going to penetrate the darkness of our world, it will be because Little Lights of the World like you and me, carried it there.  Perhaps like Frodo, we’ve been worn down by our journey and forget the light we carry within us—or even doubt we have any to share.  But the promise of Scripture is that it’s there, and if we remember it—and choose to shine it— it can be a powerful force for good in this world. Sometimes our mere presence might be what pushes back the darkness on a face we meet along our way,  in a place we go, or in a space we dwell.  Seen that way, maybe the most wonderful gift we can give this Christmas is to share our light with someone in darkness.  We can become the Elven Stars of this world, offering bright light when all other light fades—Philippians 2:15.