The Light shines in the darkness
The stories of the first
Christmas are full of light. In Luke’s gospel, the night is filled with light
as angels bring the news of Jesus’ birth to shepherds keeping watch over their
flocks. In Matthew’s gospel, the star of Bethlehem shines in the night sky to
guide the magi, the wisemen, to the place of Jesus’ birth.
Nobody knows the day, the
month or the season of the year of Jesus’ birth. The date of 25th
December was not decided on until the middle of the 300s AD. Before then
Christians celebrated Jesus’ birth at different times – including March, April,
May and November. But around 350 AD Pope Julius declared 25th
December as the date. In selecting this date Pope Julius was integrating Jesus’
birth with a Roman winter solstice festival celebrating the “Birth of the
Unconquered Sun”.
The image of light in the
darkness is central to the Christian celebration of Christmas. Jesus is born in
the deepest darkness – in the middle of the night around the winter solstice –
the longest night of the year in the northern hemisphere. And as we know “Night” crops up a lot in the
words of familiar carols;
Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is
bright
O little town of
Bethlehem, How
still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee tonight.
In
the middle of the night, on one of the longest nights of the year, the time of
deepest darkness, Jesus is born.
Light
is a perfect symbol for humans to relate to. Light as a symbol has been used
across cultures and religions for thousands of years. And Light is central to
the Christian religion too.
It’s
not hard to understand why. We need only imagine how our ancestors experienced
night and darkness. It is hard for us to imagine a time before people learned
how to domesticate the night with artificial light. Yet in terms of human
existence having widespread access to light at night has only happened relatively
recently. It is thought that London was the first city to have widespread
illumination at night in the 1600s. And illumination in cities and towns only
started to become common after the invention of gas lighting in the late 1700s.
Lighting
in houses is also relatively recent. Of course, candles and oil lamps have
existed for thousands of years. But for ordinary people – most people in other
words – oil for lamps or candles were very expensive and would not have been
widely used, or at least only used sparingly. Therefore, when night fell, it
was dark, very dark. Our ancestors knew darkness in a way we do not.
The
writers of the Gospel stories wanted to draw upon the symbolism of light and
darkness to help tell the story of Jesus.
They
understood that in the dark we cannot see or at least see very well. Thus,
night and darkness are associated with blindness and limited vision. For the
same reason we can easily get lost in the dark. In the dark we are often afraid,
we do not know what danger might lurk in the dark. Night and winter go
together. The nights become longer and the days shorter, the earth loses its
warmth and becomes cold and unfruitful. Darkness, grief and mourning are
associated. Grief is like a dark night, and mourners have worn dark clothing
for centuries by association.
With
all these things, the writers of the Gospel stories wanted to draw upon the
symbolism of Jesus as bringing light into a dark world.
We
heard a reading from John’s gospel earlier. John doesn’t start his account of
Jesus life with his birth in Bethlehem. Instead, John draws upon symbolism.
John calls Jesus the Word. John
writes in Jesus the Word there
. 4 … was life, and
that life was the light of all people. 5 The light
shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome[a] it.
And a little later John tells us that Jesus
9 The true light that gives light to everyone was
coming into the world.
Later on, John tells us that Jesus is “the light of the world”.
Luke’s account gives us the story of Mary and Joseph
travelling to Bethlehem. We get the idea of Jesus being born in a stable. In
our minds we see the stable lit by a lantern with the Christ child surrounded
by a golden glow. Then we have the shepherds who are dazzled by the angels as
the Glory of the Lord shone around.
Although Luke’s account seems more factual, the
symbolism of light is there. The light created by the Glory of the Lord comes
into the world to sweep away the darkness of evil.
In his gospel Matthew also uses the image of
light in relation to Jesus’ birth. This time with a star. Magi[a] from the east came to
Jerusalem 2 and asked, ‘Where is the one who has
been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to
worship him.’
The star is clearly
an important symbol for Matthew. It doesn’t merely shine in the night sky. It
moves. It brings these visitors from the east and then leads them to Bethlehem.
And for Matthew the story of the star is a statement about Jesus. Jesus’ birth
is the coming of the light that draws people other than Jewish people to Jesus
Christ. The Magi are Gentiles, non-Jews. And the light of Christ shines on all
people. Then and now.
Sadly, though the
light of Christ, the light of the star, can easily be overlooked. It’s ironic
that when people light up their houses at Christmas time, all too easily they
miss the true light, the light of the world, shining in their darkness. A
darkness that is there but which doesn’t overcome the light of Jesus. For Jesus
is the light that can transform people’s lives.
On the BBC news
yesterday evening a reporter was on Oxford Street in London. She was saying
that the shops weren’t very busy shop keepers were worried about profits. She
ended her report by saying:
“The shops were
hoping Christmas would bring salvation, but it’s not looking very bright”.
I’ve no idea
whether her words were coincidental or whether she was saying them ironically. Or
whether she was a secretly conveying a Christian message! But of course we
believe Christmas IS salvation and the future IS bright.
Once there was a family. Mum and Dad and four children. They had
a rule, like many families, that on Christmas Day none of the children could go
down to see the gifts under the tree until the rest of the family were awake
and they could all go together.
The Christmas the youngest child John was seven, he came
bounding into his parents’ bedroom at 4:30 a.m., his face glowing with
excitement, his mouth running at about ninety miles an hour. "Daddy! Mummy!
Come quick! I saw it!"
As they wiped the sleep from their eyes, both parents knew what
had happened. The rule had been broken. John had already discovered the
new bicycle that he had been wanting for two years. They felt
cheated that he had rushed ahead, and they had missed seeing his discovery. But
it was Christmas, after all, and they couldn't scold him for being overly excited.
They climbed out of bed, pulled on their dressing gowns and
slippers, woke the rest of the family and John led them downstairs. John led
them into the darkened living room toward a window on the eastern side of the
house, totally oblivious to the bicycle which sat
unnoticed beside the tree. John pointed his finger to the eastern sky and said,
"Look! The Star of Bethlehem! I've seen the star!"
Photo credit: Crosswalk
John's bike: https://sermons.com/
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