Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Christmas: The Narrative of Light

Isaiah 9:2-7
Psalm 96
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-20

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; and those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them a light has shined.” (Isaiah 9:2) Can any remember a time when they were in utter darkness? The sort of darkness in which one’s eyes never get accustomed, because there is no light at all: deep, deep and utter darkness. I remember being in such darkness myself twice. The first as a boy, and not far from here in the Crystal Caves of Sequoia National Park. The second, far more recently and at another national park, this time in Ireland. Located in Country Meath (on the eastern side of Ireland), Newgrange is megalithic passage tomb built in about 3200 BC. These passage tombs can be found throughout Britain and Ireland, and as their name suggest are long passages cut into earth. They end in a round chamber within which were laid to rest the most notable in the community. The one at Newgrange is distinctive, however, because it is constructed in such a way that a light box above the main entrance allows “sunlight to penetrate the passage and the chamber at sunrise around the Winter Solstice.” At just the right moment in the morning, as the sun rises a “narrow beam of light” passes through the light box. The sun’s light enters the chamber and slowly “moves” – as it were – down the 60 foot length of the passage. As the sun continues to rise higher the beam reaches the chamber and widens so that “the whole room becomes dramatically illuminated. After 17 minutes the sunbeam leaves the chamber and retreats back down the passage”. Each year there is a free lottery in Ireland to win a place within the chamber at the solstice. However, if you visit at any other time the effect is re-produced artificially. I experienced the latter, and it was still incredibly powerful. Standing in the darkness of the chamber, I felt the light as a living thing moving towards me along the floor of the passageway, ultimately enveloping me and all in the chamber with me in its glorious brightness. Eventually it receded back, and we were once again left in darkness. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” (Isaiah 7:2)

How this was all calculated, planned and constructed over 5000 years ago still challenges scholars and engineers. So too does the exact reason why; but surely it must have something to do with making palpable the reality of the presence of light even in the most abject darkness. Certainly, the place and the experience mediated by it are symbols of the underlying but often difficult-to-apprehend truth that the real narrative of creation is not darkness, but light. As we gather tonight, it seems that we are telling fundamentally the same story. The child born in the darkness of this night, in the dark obscurity of a cave – the Grotto of the Nativity in Bethlehem is after all a cave – this child is the embodiment of God’s promise of light; indeed this child is Light, the true light coming into he world, the light which enlightens everyone. (cf. John 1:9) At the same time, like the light in the chamber at Newgrange, only a few witness the Christ-light – Mary, Joseph, some shepherds, a collection of animals, and later the wise-men – and all too quickly the light recedes to a hidden place, seemingly conquered by the darkness of political power as Herod fears for his throne, and by the darkness of violence as small children are massacred in the hopes of discovering the one who it is believed will overthrow the government altogether. The light recedes, but it is not conquered; those who are witness to it never forget its grace and truth. They learn that the underlying narrative of creation is not the seemingly pervasive darkness in which they often find themselves, but light – the light of grace, the light of Christ, the light of God. The shepherds’ dark doubts are transformed into joy and praise, and, as Garrison Keillor reports in his re-telling of the Christmas story: “life would never again be the same for them; there was always a light in their hearts and it would never be dark night for them again.” For Mary also, the darkness of uncertainty and most probably worry, become quiet acceptance and contemplation in the presence of the Christ-light. She treaured all she heard and saw, and “pondered them in her heart”. (Luke 2:16) As an adult Jesus willingly entered into a world of darkness and dark forces – political and social – which oppressed, disfigured and determined the lives of many, but his life was lived in such a way that the light was his defining narrative, and so he could say with confidence, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12), and he could tell his followers that they too were the “light of the world.” (Matthew 5:14); light shining in the darkness which the darkness does not overcome. (cf. John 1:5)

We all know the extent to which we live our lives in the dark: in the darknesses of fear, in the darknesses of uncertainty, in the darknesses of regret. Many in our world live their lives in the darknesses of violence, hunger, poverty, oppression. Yet, the message of creation and of creation’s God, the message of Christmas is that darkness is not the defining narrative. The defining narrative is light; light hidden, light obscured perhaps, but light nonetheless. The call of the Christian life is to expose that light wherever it is covered, shine it in the darkest places of our world; it is to encourage it when it is but a dull spark, kindle it into a great shining blaze and carry it to those who “sit in darkness and in the shadow of death”. (Luke 1:79) It is always and everywhere to give the lie to the narrative of darkness, and ever witness to the the deep and true narrative of light, no matter how dark things may seem. Those of us who have seen and know the truth about the light must follow the example of the shepherds who on having experienced themselves the Christ-light go out into the darkness bearing its truth, glorifying and praising God for it. (cf. Luke 2:20) Indeed, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” (Luke 9:2)

Not unlike those who this solstice stood within the chamber of Newgrange and who began and ended their experience within its dark recesses, so we began our service tonight in the dark and we will end in the dark. However, there as here light has been revealed to us. In different ways we have experienced the same story, the true narrative of the light – the unconquerable light, the inextinguishable light, the light which darkness cannot ultimately overcome. More specifically as we celebrate this holy feast of Christmas we know that we have encountered the light of Christ, the light of the world and as Christians we know that no matter how dark things may seem, no matter the darkness of our world or of our lives, it will never really be dark night for us ever again. Even as we walk in darkness we know the truth, we know it is not the final word, the defining narrative. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light (Isaiah 9:2); “the light [that] shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it.” (John 1:5)

No comments:

Post a Comment