I’m writing this on the longest night of the year. The sun is as far away from us as it can be. The winter solstice. Shortest day of the year. The gravity of this is not lost on me. It cannot get any darker. I feel it more than I see it. Did you feel it too?
As the virus rages and our nation staggers, we hold, possibly for the first time, a shared pain. A shared loneliness. A shared darkness. It is from this lonely perch that we crouch with wings folded, waiting for the night to end. On this cold, quiet, Advent evening, I’m charged with telling the story of the coming of the Light, which is upon you now as you read this. And what are the odds, that on this night, far off in the distance, I can see stars aligning. Did you see it too?
At our evolutionary core, we collectively quiver as if there was a loud knock on the door. Startled… caught in surprise by all that has happened to us and the world that we share. I imagine young Mary felt this at least twice: when she said, “Yes,” and when the baby decided that he was ready to come.
The law required Joseph and her to travel to his birth place to be counted.* Locked in time in an occupied land, this displaced family found themselves homeless in a hometown. The irony. Amidst the straw and rough wood of the stable, they slept. Two numbers on a page… Hebrew names spelled with Roman letters. And if that weren’t enough, her water broke. The expectant mother, carrying this great weight, pushes and cries. An embodiment of the inward and outward journey like the world had never seen.
The Great Spirit arrives in the darkness and on the ragged edges, barely seen but out of the corner of the eye. What mystery. Look in the most unlikely of places. In the lonely shelter of our souls, with straw as our floor, and a wooden cradle holding our heart, we are given this light. It is here, in these barren places, that it comes. And with it, life. Born again. And again. And again. It is from the margins of it all, in this cold, discouraging darkness, that the light dares to shine. It is in this darkness, both within and without. Even in this place. Even now.
Can you imagine? All of us standing together under the same stars aligning, the days gently lengthening before us, our heads lifted high. Do you see it? This great light, born unto us, shines on us all as we search the same glittering sky. To say that this light is for everyone, would be the most obvious thing. It is here, and the darkness will never, ever, put it out.
*Luke 2:1-20, The Message (MSG)
–Jim Marsh, Jr.
Bread of Life Church
