Ever since I was a small child, I’ve always lamented the day when the Christmas tree came down and the colored and white lights that glowed off the snow outside were shut off. My earliest years were in the cold and snowy towns of Minnesota, and somehow my soul attached the meaning of Christmas with these lights that shone in that deep darkness with the mystery of Jesus coming to be with us in our complicated world.
As I write this we are moving from the bright, festive lights of Christmas decoration to the more contemplative season of Epiphany, a word which means “revelation” or “manifestation,” or more simply, “showing.” The Magi, having been guided by a great light to pay a visit of respect and adoration to the Son of God in the Baby Jesus, return to their own realms without that light. A friend and poet, Christine Hemp, suggests that the Magi didn’t even have the benefit of the old constellations to guide them home, so radically does the Christ child’s birth change the universe:
Everything was
different: constellations no longer
pointed out the path. We gave up gazing
at the stars for answers. We were haunted
by a fitful flame wavering inside us.
“We asked for signs and followed what we saw,” Christine Hemp
So, the Christmas trees are on the curb or on a brush pile and the lights are slowly being extinguished. And who could blame us, in this time of political uncertainty — and even rumors of yet more war — if we didn’t feel some anxiety, fatigue, disorientation, even exasperation in gazing up at the stars for answers.
But the mystery and wonder are that in each of us light has dawned. We get to pray to the Christ who seeks to dwell within and among us. We get to look to each other in our communities of faith for that hope and courage. The light is no longer merely beyond us out there, but in our hearts. As those sentimental strings of light glowed on the snows, now the light of Christ glows in our prayers, in the words and gestures we exchange with one another, in our acts of kindness, generosity, and concern. These are ways that allow the light of Epiphany to be revealed and manifested. As the great Prologue of the Gospel of John proclaims:
What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. (John 1:3b-5)
The Rev. Jay Sidebotham, the designer of the “RenewalWorks” program that has enriched so many of our congregations in recent years, has observed how an organization, a congregation, or a community will adopt some of the core characteristics of the heart of its leader. Recently I asked a presidential candidate what is in his heart and what aspects of this soul will help our nation heal and flourish. Of course, I have to ask the same question of myself, as every priest, deacon, or lay leader has a powerful effect on the whole local expression of the Body of Christ. How might you respond? Are you guided by the light of Christ, now drawn so close to us in Jesus? My prayer for all of our presidential candidates and more importantly for us all as the members of the Church of New Hampshire is that we, like the Magi, search for and pay homage to the light of Christ in our hearts. This is the light that can drive away all that may prevent us from sharing God’s mending love to the world.
So, let the lights come down from our trees and houses. And instead, may the light in our hearts shine forth with unconquerable faith, hope, and love.
Faithfully Yours in Christ’s Light,
+Rob
The Rt. Rev. Robert Hirschfeld