The Light Still Shines

In the weeks leading up to Christmas this year, there has been a special candle burning in the sanctuary at Newtown United Methodist Church during our Advent worship services. It's the Peace Light. In Bethlehem at the Grotto of the Nativity, the traditional site of the birth of Christ, caretakers keep a flame continuously lit. Every year a boy scout or girl scout from Austria travels to Bethlehem and lights a lamp from the flame. The burning lamp is then flown back to Austria, and its flame is distributed from Vienna to churches across Europe.  

At Christmas in 2001, the Peace Light was flown across the Atlantic Ocean from Vienna to New York City as a sign of hope in the wake of the 9-11 terrorist attacks. For many Christmases since 2001, the Peace Light has come to New York and has spread from there across North America. 

This year, our church was offered the Peace Light by a nearby congregation, and I had the experience of driving a flickering lantern to our church and carrying the Peace Light into the sanctuary. It's a safe bet that I will never carry a burning Olympic Torch into a stadium to light the Olympic Flame, but I did do my small part to complete the Peace Light's incredible journey of nearly 5,800 miles from Bethlehem on the West Bank to Newtown, Pennsylvania -- via Vienna and New York City.

The Peace Light burning in our living room

Instead of having the Peace Light burn unattended in an empty sanctuary between Sunday worship services, Dorry and I have looked after the Peace Light in our home. I never experienced having a candle burning in my home 24/7 before. I've learned that a single candle throws a surprising amount of light in the darkness. When I walk into our living room at night and see the Peace Light burning on the mantle of our fireplace, I'm reminded of the Gospel of John's poetic description of Jesus: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ... The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. ... In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." -John 1:1, 14, 4-5  (NIV)

My father once observed that "[i]t is always so with light and darkness. No matter how deep and vast the darkness, one tiny light can pierce through it, and the darkness, for all its vastness, is powerless to overcome that light. Darkness is always at the mercy of light."

2016 has been a year in which many of us found ourselves enveloped in darkness from news of terrorism, or war, or mass shootings, or racism, or our hate-filled political rhetoric. These are "dark social and political situations that permeate us from the outside."  At other points in the year, we have been shrouded in "a darkness that comes from within. It is the darkness of hopelessness and despair we feel when we get bogged down in the tragedy and pain and sometimes just plain boredom of everyday life. There is no heavier, seemingly impenetrable darkness than what we feel when life wounds us in one way or another, and we cry out to God, and God doesn't seem to be there. Terrible, terrible things happen in families, in the workplace, in marriages, in the human mind and body. Evil is very much alive in the experience of every one of us, We cannot deny it. Each one of us is to some degree enswathed in the darkness that comes from within."

It was into this darkness -- from without and within -- that Jesus was born. One Christmas Eve, my father asked his congregation, "Can you imagine how cold and dark that stable must have been? That stable is the world. It is no small thing for God to enter that darkness. There are the cries of a young mother in labor, bearing her first child in a strange town far from home. There is the pain of a father's helplessness as he tries to assist at his own child's birth. It is not easy for God to send his Light into our dark world. It costs God much; ultimately, there is a cross." 

This birth -- this arrival of the Light in the midst of darkness -- announces two things we desperately need to hear: "First, God cares. God knows and cares about the darkness that engulfs us. Your personal darkness is unique; it is different than that of every other person in this church. Yet, God knows and cares. This is the first thing we need to hear. Second, God conquers. God's light still shines, and it conquers the darkness. No darkness can stand up to God's light. This is the significance of that little child born to refugee parents on a dark, cold night in a musty stable. What could be a more powerful reminder that God's light still shines than the birth of this beautiful baby in such a dark setting?"

"This child born in a hostile environment among strangers, this child cradled in a cold, dark barn, this child whose birth we celebrate at Christmas, this child tells us precisely -- because of WHO HE IS -- that God's love extends to the most humble person in the most desperate situation. This child is the Light shining in the darkness. This Word can bring joy to the multitudes. This Word can bring joy to you! See this scene of the nativity for what it really means: The Light still shines!" 

Merry Christmas, friends!       

From: "The Light Still Shines"

Scripture: John 1:1-18