| "Few things spook us more than places that are totally and completely dark. But let just one candle be lighted-or, even better, many candles, as we are doing here tonight-and let that candlelight suffuse those dark spaces with its soft and warming glow, and our human discomfort just melts away into serenity, into a sense of calm and peaceful well-being. Oh, what power that soft light has to dispel the gloom of night. Night light-it really changes us. Now all around us throughout December, this month of our longest night, the darkness of our city is transformed by electrified candles, and glowing plastic stars, and luminescent snowflakes. And our Christmas trees, from the simple ones in our homes to the towering giant in Rockefeller Center-these, too, send forth into the night such soothing sparkles of light. I just love to sit in my darkened living room with only the bulbs on our Christmas tree glowing. Don't you, too, revel in the effect of night light? Now, the concepts of "night" and "light" very much underlie Christians' choice of our date for observing and celebrating Jesus's birth. You see, no one knows the actual date of Jesus's birthday. No one! Did you know that a bishop of the late-2nd and early-3rd centuries named Clement of Alexandria expressed his preference for November the 17th, while acknowledging that some of his contemporaries preferred either May 20th or April 19th? A bit later the belief arose that Christ would have been conceived at the same time of year as had existed at the beginning of the world, when, after only darkness had been covering the face of the cosmic waters, God had said, "Let there be light," and there was light. (Gen. 1:1-4) Now, this group of Christians believed that the time when God had brought forth light from darkness was the spring equinox, late March, when day and night stand in perfect balance, when evening and morning are of exactly the same length, when life stands poised to burst forth anew. Well, if Jesus had been conceived at that time of the year, the equinox in late March, then naturally his birth had come nine months after that, in late December. Now it just so happened that in late December, on December 25th to be exact, the people of Rome observed a festival celebrating the rebirth of the sun in the dead of the winter night, when the days begin to lengthen after the shortest of them all. And for the Christians in Rome, this festival resonated with an Old Testament prophecy found in the Book of Malachi, chapter 4, verse 2, which says: "But for you who revere my name, the sun (S-U-N, sun) of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings." This prophecy should sound very familiar to us, for it was only minutes ago that we sang the version of it found in vs. 3 of "Hark the Herald Angels Sing": "Hail the bearer of God's peace! Hail the sun of righteousness, Light and life our Savior brings, Risen with radiant, healing wings." So you see, it was the assumption that Jesus's conception would have taken place at the spring equinox combined both with the date of the Roman festival of the winter rebirth of the sun and with Christians' application to Jesus of the Old Testament prophecy about "the sun of righteousness"-it was this combination of 3 factors that led to the church's acceptance of December 25th as the date on which the birth of Jesus should be celebrated. December the 25th, a time of night light-a time of transition from the darkness of night to the light of day. In spite of all our technology, we moderns are still well able to identify with the fear that ancients felt in the face of darkness-that realm of ghosts and goblins, of thieves and wild animals, of murders and muggings, of despair and depression-and we are also still well able to identify with the relief that ancients felt at the first sign of dawn, at the first sign of the comfort of light. In the Old Testament, the ancient Israelites frequently expressed their deep fear of "darkness" and "night" and next went on to use these terms as metaphors for those periods in their nation's history that were filled with tragedy and evil. But then these ancient Israelites would often proceed to proclaim their expectant hope that God would soon send into that "darkness" and "night" the dawn of a new light to usher in a far better age. Listen, for example, to this song of hope sounded at the end of the fierce "darkness" of Judah's 50-year "night" of exile from Jerusalem, this song of hope sounded in the Book of the prophet Isaiah, chapter 60: "Arise, Jerusalem, rise clothed in light, for though darkness covers the earth and dark night the nations, the Lord shall shine upon you, and God's glory shall appear over you." The mixture of fear and hope that filled the people of Judah during the long night of their exile is so beautifully captured in verse 2 of our often-sung Advent hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel": "O come, Thou Dayspring, come to cheer Our spirits by Thine advent here; Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, And death's dark shadows put to flight." Well, by the time of Jesus's impending birth, the Jewish people had endured over 500 years of occupation and oppression by one foreign empire after another, all that time longing for God to intervene and asking, "Where is God? Where is the goodness of God's dawning light that is at last to break the gloom of our long night?" But Jews were not the only people of the first century B.C. who were longing for divine light to burst forth in the midst of the world's darkness. For example, in Rome, the Latin poet Virgil gave voice to the hope of many people following the assassination of Julius Caesar and the ensuing period of turmoil: the hope that a young child would soon be born who would end all the tumult and usher in an era of radiant light, of justice and peace. The Jewish people and many others, like Virgil-all searching the heavens for some sign of hope, for some ray of light. And amidst the gloom of the 1st-century night, a candle was lighted. The same God who had eons before proclaimed, "Let there be light," took flesh, and was born in the Jewish town of Bethlehem in the Roman province of Judea-born to be a light for all nations. This is the message of Christmas: in Christ, God became our night light, to dispel our gloom and our despair, our fears and our concerns. And very shortly, we will be proclaiming this truth from the depths of our souls, when we join together in singing: "Silent night, holy night, Child of God, love's pure light, radiant beams from Your holy face bring the dawn of redeeming grace; Jesus Christ at Your birth, Jesus Christ at Your birth." The good news of Christmas is this, you see: If we are gloomy, we can find hope. If we despair, joy is available. If life seems filled with warfare, we can bring peace. If the world seems ugly, we can create beauty. If the world seems filled with evil, we can establish good. For unto us is born this night, in the city of David, a savior, of radiant light-Christ Jesus, our Lord. And the light that was born on that first Christmas night, as was stated in this evening's Third Lesson from the Gospel of John-that light shall shine on in the dark, and the dark shall never overcome it. For as has been promised to us in the Book of the prophet Isaiah (60:20): "The Lord shall be your everlasting light, and the days of your gloom shall be ended." Among my favorite carols of the Christmas season is one that is very little known and rarely sung, but it speaks so magnificently to the world's need for God's dawning light. Listen, please, to the words of "Veiled in Darkness Judah Lay" (Douglas LeTell Rights, 1915, alt.): "Veiled in darkness Judah lay, Waiting for the promised day, While across the shadowy night Streamed a flood of glorious light, Heavenly voices chanting then, 'Peace on earth, peace on earth, Goodwill to (women and) men.' "Still the earth in darkness lies, Up from death's dark vale arise Voices of a world in grief, Prayers of (those) who seek relief: Now our darkness pierce again, 'Peace on earth, peace on earth, Goodwill to (women and) men.' "Light of light, we humbly pray, Shine upon Your world today; Break the gloom of our dark night, Fill our souls with love and light, Send Your blessed word again, 'Peace on earth, peace on earth, Goodwill to (women and) men.'" As tonight we experience the warm and secure glow of candles and of our other night lights, may it become for us a sign of the warmth and security that came into our world with the birth of Jesus Christ. And then may we also remember the biblical command that we are to be like Christ. We, too, are to live "as children of the light," doing "all that is good, and right, and true." (Ephesians 5:8-9) In just a few minutes we will be lighting our candles in a chain originating from the Christ candle. As we do so, I ask us to be aware that through this act God is calling upon you and me when we leave this place to be "children of light," to radiate outward from our lives the light of Christ that we have rekindled here tonight, the light of God that has been sent to overcome the darkness of our world. Let us be aware on this night, this Christmas Eve, that God is calling out to each and every one of us, saying, "O follower of Christ, let there be light." |
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