This Sunday takes precedence over the three Holy Days which follow Christmas Day. As necessary, the observance of one, two, or all three of them, is postponed one day.
Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts, may shine forth in our lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. [BCP p. 213]
Christmas is over. At least the family gathering, gift opening, festive banquet part of Christmas; the “magical” “holly jolly” “jingle bell” secular, commercialized time of year. Now we can get to work examining the holiday for what it is. It is not a day; it is a season.
Light is an important image in our seasonal collects. This past month I put up our holiday decorations as usual. Sadly, a number of our lighted displays weren’t working properly. I have a gizmo that helps identify and correct lighting issues, and it worked for a couple of the strings, but not for all of them. We have a small set of four trees that line our walkway, but one tree wouldn’t light. I didn’t mind as three trees-a-working seemed more biblically sound anyway.
Through the course of the Advent season, a section of lights on our Christmas tree blinked out and it, too, could not be resurrected, so I simply added a string of healthy, functional lights to keep things normal. The day after Christmas another section gave up the ghost, so this is apparently the end of the road for this particular tree. The fuses are fine, so I have no idea what went wrong. The tree has served us well for a decade or so, anyway, so that’s OK.
Things break. Things die. Things go dark. Our light is limited. Our collect for the day recognizes that reality. I am generally pretty easy-going. I try not to fret over too many things. I am no Martha in that regard. But I do blow a fuse on occasion. Things do get my goat. There are times my countenance falls, and there are those who will confirm that it’s not good to be around me when that happens. I’m not given to violence – at least not with my fists, feet, or elbows. I turn my pain and anger inward, and a lump of coal is a better companion than I when that happens.
My light is limited, but the Light of all lights has no limits. Just as the sun finished its southward journey at the winter solstice, and the hours of daylight have gotten as short as they will get. From here on out, daylight will begin to increase. Likewise, the Light of the Son has come forth, giving us hope. That light will also grow day by day. We need only pay attention. It happens without effort on our part. Did you know that? The sun rises and sets on its own. Our job is to do our part day by day.
The Collect also makes reference to this Light as “the” new light of (God’s) incarnate Word. What was the old light? Torah? Human conscience? Religious rites and practices? Ancient memories of Eden, when God and humans spent time together in that heavenly oasis?
Perhaps God has not just come down to us in human form. Perhaps God has pulled away the angels with their flaming swords – the ones guarding the Garden Gates – and the gates have once again been opened, and the way to Eden has been revealed. Doesn’t Jesus, later, identify himself as the “Way, the Truth, and the Life” in the Gospel of John (from which we read this day)?
Our collect brings to mind that today is not just a new day, but a new era. “Enkindled” refers to fire. Most lighting these days (including Christmas lighting) is artificial. It is powered by electricity. But in ancient days, if you didn’t have sunlight, you needed to have fire – candles or lamps, or torchlight by which to see. I love watching living flames dance atop candles. I love watching smoke rise and curl, giving shape to the invisible air currents in a room. The flames are alive; they seek (and need) both fuel and air to survive; don’t we all?
The point here is that we are asking God to make our light real, to make our light warm and inviting. Yes, moths are drawn to the flames, but so are those living in darkness. I think Christians ought to be known for the illuminating warmth of living fire, and less for dark threats of fire and eternal damnation – don’t you? I believe that is what we are praying for this First Sunday after Christmas.
Come Jesus, light our fire! Amen.
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