"The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in the land of darkness a light will shine." (Isaiah 9:2 NLT)
We are the folks living in darkness. Last summer I went to a funeral where the pastor implored us: this is not the land of the living, it is the land of the dying. All this dying plummets us into the depths, the canyons where the inky night threatens to consume us. It is more obvious all the time: apart from Jesus, we have no light, no hope, no future.
But two thousand years ago, in the place where passover lambs were born, a baby Savior made His way into the the world. And with His first cry, a crack of light slipped across the shadowlands. The light of His love for us cannot be consumed, cannot be overcome, cannot be extinguished.
The good news this Christmas is this: His light is still careening toward us, crossing time and space to embrace us, engulf us and establish us for all eternity. Until the fullness of day arrives, we keep moving toward Him. We set our feet on the path where the Son-light slowly spills over the land of the dying.
We invite the light into the darkest corners of our life, chasing away the shadows that endlessly encroach. We cooperate with the light’s tender embrace: stretching and growing in it’s warmth and wonder. We invite others into the light: it’s too good to keep to ourselves. And we look forward to a day when light will flood the globe completely, sending death away forever.
"You can show others the goodness of God, for He has called you out of the darkness into His wonderful light." (1 Peter 2:9b NLT)
Lord, today we are grateful for Your light spilling across the earth. We move toward it, happy to feel the rays on our face. We know we still live in the land of the dying, but we are convinced the fullness of Your light is coming. We receive it, rejoice in it and share it freely. Fill every shadow with Your inexhaustible grace. We surrender anew. Amen.