This Little Light of Mine

The third Sunday in the Advent season of waiting for Christ invites us to joy. I confess that as daylight has diminished where I live and the news conveys the darkness of human hubris, I struggle with lifting up my heart and voice rejoicing.

The gospel takes us to the jail cell of John the Baptist.* I imagine a dark place. Here is a man who has given his life to prepare the way for the coming of God’s incarnation in the world that will bear the salvation we long for. And now he faces violence at the hands of those who cannot open to his announcement. I imagine his disappointment and deep sadness. I trust the holy desire within him is encouraging, but I wonder if that is enough.

His disciples visit. It comforts me that they can. He sends them to Jesus with a question, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?”* Jesus answers them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.”

Jesus doesn’t say, yes, I am the One. Rather, he points to the renewed vision, strength, awareness, and insight of the ones touched by him, those who are coming alive in new ways and are experiencing God’s joy in them, especially the least among us.

This scripture leads me to ponder my own holy longings. How am I witnessing to the light of Christ in the darkness? What do I need to see and hear and open to change? Where am I called to come alive in the Spirit and come alongside those who are suffering? Am I embodying God’s joy and hope in creation, God’s grace and saving activity?