It is Christmas Eve, but there seems to be a more profound heaviness about Christmas this year for me. I have too many very dear friends grieving deep, wounding losses, and people I love struggling with health complications and the unrelenting fears of the future as they deal with diagnoses and care for loved ones.
And, yet, everyone around us is talking about Christmas, taking obligatory photos with Santa, and celebrating the joy of Christmas. That stands in stark contrast with the darkness.
Darkness and light are incompatible.
Darkness is the absence of light. When life gets heavy, when we are so engulfed by grief, when we feel the full weight of loneliness, abandonment and family dissonance, we cannot see the light.
Isaiah 59:9 says, “We look for light, but there is darkness; for brightness, and we walk in gloom.”
There is an inherent desire in each of us to leave the darkness. We long for the light – with hope.
We’ve walked throughout Advent waiting for the birth of Christ with hope-filled anticipation. We yearn for the Light of Christ, even if we aren’t aware of what we are seeking.
Even as we grieve, even as our hearts ache, even when we cannot see the dawning of the day, we search with hope for the Light.
So, as we approach Christmas, we bring with us the sorrow, the fear, the anxiety, the hurt, the loneliness, and the grief. We bring it to the manger as we wait.
The images we see of the nativity are beautiful – peaceful and quaint. But the stable was full of barn animals, and unsanitary conditions. The stable was noisy and packed with people. The circumstances were not ideal. But Christ was born, and in that moment, the World was brighter.
God took the messiness and the noise and the fear and the struggle, and he made something beautiful. We can forget about the unpleasantness and remember only the perfection, but this day was a mixture of both.
We long to be like those Isaiah 9:1 speaks of who, “walk in darkness” but who, “have seen a great light.”
When the Light comes, it may seep slowly in as we journey through the darkness, or it may come washing over us, bathing us in its warmth.
We may find it in the friends and family who extend kind words, and prayers. We may find it in others who are the hands and feet of Jesus for us – in so many ways. There are people who show up when we are in our darkest moments. There are people who will sit in silence with us. There are people who will relentlessly check on us without being intrusive, but just letting us know that we matter, and that we are loved. There are people who will come with food. There are people who will know us best and love us the way we need to be loved. That is Christ loving us through them.
If you are feeling overwhelmed by the darkness this Christmas, hold firm to the knowledge that the Christ Light is here. He is here in our midst, and He is here in the gift of others.
Allow Him to touch you. Allow yourself to experience the sadness and pain, but allow yourself to see the Light and to hope in it. Because there is light in that darkness.
And, if you know your God-breathed charism, pray for God’s direction in how you use that charism this Christmas season in your interaction with family, friends, and strangers. Hold the Christ Light for others – whether it be gentle or brightly burning.
And take heart in your gifts. Not everyone needs the burning flames … sometimes we need only the flicker of one candle of hope to break through the oppressive darkness. And darkness cannot remain.
Bring the Light. Seek the Light.
“Arise! Shine, for your light has come …” ~Isaiah 60:1
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