A Sun Which Will Not Set

The Advent-Christmas season is a festival of light. From the Advent wreath to the lights of the Christmas tree, light is a central theme of the season. This is in keeping with the Scriptures which proclaim Jesus to be the light of the world. At the birth of John the Baptist, Zechariah, his father, prophesies that "the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death" (Lk.1: 78-79). The magi would follow the light of a star announcing the birth of the King of the Jews (Mt.2: 1-12). And, the righteous man, Simeon, upon seeing Jesus presented in the temple calls him: "a light to reveal you to the nations and the glory of your people Israel" (Lk.2:32). Jesus' birth is the dawning of a new light on earth, a light which rolls back the long night of sin, death and despair.

For this reason, Christmas is timed to roughly coincide with the winter equinox - when the days begin to grow longer. With its roots in the ancient Roman feast of Saturnalia, Christmas is celebrated at the time of year when the daylight begins to reclaim the night. At first, it will be imperceptible. The light will push back the darkness one minute at a time. The days will still be cold and the evenings dark. After we've taken down the Christmas lights and decorations, we will still have to endure the two bleak months of January and February. With the Christmas holidays no longer there to buoy us, the dark and cold can drag us into a funk. It can be hard to remember that the day is vanquishing the night. But, it is taking place as surely as the sun rises and sets. By March, the longer hours of sunlight will beckon forth buds from the trees and flowers from the earth.

The cycles of nature and of the liturgical calendar so often mirror the seasons of our lives. As Christ's victory deliberately works itself out in human history, we may feel engulfed by the dark greed and cold individualism which continues to be prevalent in our world. And, as we open ourselves up to the daybreak of grace within us, we may feel frustrated by our slowness to respond and the continuing hardness of our hearts. The day advances, but the night still feels long and cold.

It is in this context that the liturgical season calls us to patience as we await the day of the Lord. When we see the corruption, injustice and suffering in our world, how tempting it is to believe that the night will eventually quench the light. When the kingdom of God grows among us imperceptibly, like a seed buried in the dark soil, how tempting it is to ask, "Where is our God?" Nonetheless, our celebration of Christmas is an act of faith that, in Jesus, God has begun rolling back the dark night of sin as he reveals the kingdom of the children of light. This kingdom is taking hold of the world in small increments, just as the day reclaims the night minute by minute. We are very likely still in the early stages of it even two thousand years after Jesus' birth. Nonetheless, every liturgical celebration is a bold proclamation to the cold, dark night that a sun has already risen which will never set.

This is also reflected in the life of Jesus. His birth was heralded by the angels and witnessed to by shepherds. The star rising in the east was heaven's confirmation that this boy would be great. Yet, when the fanfare had died down, he was forced into exile and lived thirty years of obscurity in Nazareth. During those years, did the shepherds ever wonder what became of the child the angels drew them to, lying in a manger? Did Mary and Joseph ever wonder when Jesus' saving power would finally manifest itself? As that child grew into a man, could they perceive God quietly establishing the never-ending day?

On February 2, another celebration of light will puncture the dreary months of winter - the Feast of the Presentation in the Temple, also known as Candlemas. At this celebration, we bless the candles which will be used in the church throughout the year in commemoration of Jesus who entered the temple as the Light of salvation for Israel. He is welcomed there by Simeon and Anna who recognize him to be the hope of Israel. After waiting their whole lives, they are happy to now go in peace having looked upon the dawning of salvation in its mere infancy. Can we be like Simeon and Anna who rejoiced to look upon the salvation of Israel without needing to know the why, the how and the when? With the dark months of January and February ahead of us, can we carry a light of faith within us to press forward with the confidence that God's kingdom is being established just as surely as the day is advancing against the night?