Joy in a Darkening World
Luke 1:67-80
While the gospel of Luke gives us the fullest narrative of Jesus’ birth, it doesn’t begin with it. Instead, it begins with the birth of John the Baptist. In so doing, it gives us one of the most beautiful pieces of religious poetry in the Bible, Zechariah’s song about his son John. This song, liturgically known as the Benedictus, is prayed every morning by Christians around the world. No wonder! Just look at its closing lines:
Because of the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to shine upon those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.
The imagery of people sitting in darkness, just waiting for the dawn, is a perfect metaphor for the Advent season. The celebration of Christmas during the darkest days of the year is intentional. We have no idea what time of year Jesus was actually born. The early church selected December 25th as the day to celebrate Christ’s coming for an important practical and theological purpose. In the northern hemisphere, where we live and where the church was born, December 21 is the winter solstice–the shortest day of the year. The sun sinks to its lowest point on the 21st and seems to hover there for a few days, until December 25th, when it noticeably begins to move and start its slow climb back toward its highest point on the summer solstice.
The early church situated its celebration of Christ’s birth to coincide with the darkest days of the year to underscore what we are really celebrating–the Light of the World entering into our darkness. I give that short history lesson to say that the celebration of Christmas is intended to be our source of joy, light, laughter, and love amid a cosmologically and metaphorically darkening world.
During this season, I find a lot of joy in my children. What brings me joy in these darkening days is watching their wonderment over all the trappings of the season–Iris belting out Christmas songs, Henry’s excitement to help (poorly) wrap presents that he picked out for his family, the regular “oohs” and “ahhs” as we drive past an overachieving neighbor’s light display, and the peals of laughter which settle into yawns and then gentle snores as we read Christmas stories at bedtime.
Give yourself over to joy this season. As my favorite poet, Mary Oliver, once wrote:
“If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.”
Rev. Ryan Young
