Isn't it wonderful to be part of a candlelight Christmas Eve worship service? It's truly breathtaking to see so many people holding candles, preparing to be bearers of Christ's light in the world. One of the special moments of a candlelight service is watching people pass the light through the congregation. One person gives the gift of light to another whose candle is dark and cold.
But, the light is unlike a gift that when given, leaves the giver with less. Instead, after the light is shared, both candles glow with equal brightness. The light multiplies exponentially as it is passed down each row. Just as a single candle sheds light and illuminates an entire room, the life of one person, Jesus Christ, casts light on all the darkness of the world.
We are very much aware of darkness this time of year. Days are short and nights are long and cold. An overcast sky and the nip in the air combine to make it feel darker than it actually is. Living in darkness is difficult and challenging. We may stumble over hazards in our path. We are sometimes fearful of who or what may be lurking in the dark shadows. In darkness we can easily become disoriented and lose our sense of direction.
Have you even noticed how a problem of any kind seems so much worse at 3:00 a.m. than it does at 3:00 p.m.? Darkness seems to hold an ominous power over us. There is a game children play blindfolded. They try to negotiate a path through objects strewn around the floor by listening carefully as others direct them. There are many challenges to living in darkness. But, we can take heart because days are becoming longer now.
If you have ever driven in a snowstorm or through dense fog where visibility is poor, you may have felt much more secure being able to see and follow the taillights of the vehicle in front of you. That vehicle was in essence blazing a trail for you to follow. But, it is possible to follow the wrong lights and get into trouble.
Nags Head is a location on the North Carolina Outer Banks where hundreds of ships have run aground. In colonial days, land pirates lured ships by leading horses with lanterns tied to their necks up and down the beach during stormy weather. Merchant captains, trying to find their way in the storm, mistook the bobbing lanterns for the stern lights of ships in a safe harbor. Following those lights, they ran aground in the shallow water, where their ships became pickings for the thieves who plundered them.
Lights point the way and direct our attention to something specific. Many new buildings are surrounded by floodlights and are beautifully illuminated at night. The owner of the building may have spent thousands of dollars on floodlights, but no one ever says, "Look at those magnificent floodlights." Instead, they say, "Look at that magnificent building." The lights call attention to another, not to themselves.
"The book of Genesis begins with darkness covering the face of the deep. The exodus from Egypt begins in the darkness of the Passover. The life of Jesus begins in the darkness of the stable. Advent also begins in darkness: the darkness of this present age."1
Long ago, several prophets had given clues that the Messiah would not be just an earthly king, and not an extraordinary human, but truly God. The prophet Isaiah is preaching to prepare us for the arrival of the light. Isaiah is expressing hope and expectation for the one who is to come.
The words of Isaiah remind us again that the light which shines in the darkness is the Christ Child. The light of Emmanuel, God with us, is more brilliant than any light we can imagine. Jesus is the light of God's personal encounter into human history. Isaiah gives the Messiah extraordinary titles such as "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God ... the Prince of Peace."
On a night back in 1741, composer George Frederick Handel was walking down a dark London street. A series of misfortunes had befallen him, and his mood was every bit as dark as the night. His age had caught up with him, leaving him in poor health, and with failing eyesight. He was partially paralyzed. He had writer's block and was not composing. Consequently, there was no income. He felt depressed and despondent, broken in body and in spirit.
Cold and despairing, he returned to his run down little house. In the lamplight he could barely see the package leaning against his front door. Stooping over and ripping open the package, he discovered the text for a new piece of sacred music, and a note from a friend asking Handel to set the words to music.
Handel took the package inside and lit a lamp to read by. Still disheartened, Handel began to turn clumsily through the pages. Then his weak eyes fell upon a passage he could identify with. It read:
He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief
... Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. — Isaiah 53:3-5 (KJV)
Handel understood what the prophet Isaiah was saying. He could identify with the words about Christ. Handel himself felt despised and rejected, a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. He anxiously read on and found the words, "He trusted on the Lord that he would deliver him ... seeing he delighted in him" (Psalm 22:8). Feeling comforted, Handel continued, seeing these words: "I know that my redeemer liveth" (Job 19:25), and "Hallelujah."
By this time Handel was rejuvenated. His creative juices had once again begun to flow. Magnificent melodies and harmonization flowed freely into his head and then onto his manuscript. He worked nonstop day after day, hardly even stopping to eat or sleep. He was overcome by the power of the scriptures, and afire with unquenchable energy. Handel finished his greatest oratorio, Messiah, in only 24 days, and then collapsed into his bed for a lengthy and well-deserved rest.
Handel himself was a new creation after his experience with Messiah. A different person emerged from the work on this composition. He had experienced firsthand the light of Christ in his life. Christ was born anew in Handel's heart as Handel experienced the peace that passes understanding. Handel's Messiah is an integral part of this season as scripture comes alive through music and the arts.
Thomas Kinkade, hailed as the "Painter of Light," is a committed Christian who gives hope and inspiration through his art: He understands the power of light to transform our world, especially candlelight. He explains that of all the colors of light, the warmest is the color of candlelight. When Kinkade paints light coming from the windows in his Christmas paintings, he tries to capture the color of candlelight. It is warm, welcoming, an amber glowing. Nothing transforms the feeling in a room the way candlelight does.2
Once there was a holy spot in the country, and every week, people would meet to enjoy each other's company, to raise their common prayers, and to read scriptures. And in their time of meditation, it seemed as if someone was always inspired to share a thought that more often than not found a spot in some hungry heart.
It was very interesting to watch these people grow in spirit and commitment as the years passed. And it happened all because of the light. You see, this rural spot in the middle of nowhere had no electricity. The only heat was that which was gently drifting from the old pot-bellied stove sitting right in the middle of their "sanctuary," and the only light was that which was shed by the candles.
Everyone in that small fellowship was responsible for bringing their own light. Upon leaving home, each worshiper would remember to check for two things: their Bible and their candle. Arriving, they would set their candles in a candlestick, light them, and sit under their mellow glow. And as so often happens when people come together to worship, each family had their own special spot.
Now it got to be that a person would always know when someone was missing in that quiet gathering. And do you know why? It was because of the light. It seems that as the candles shed their soft glow across the church, the darkness was dispelled, but if someone was absent and their spot remained unlighted, the little room was darkened. Over the years, the folks grew to understand that they were really needed because their presence brought light into the darkened fellowship.
We are living in a world that often seems dark. Long shadows extend across our community, shadows that will loom larger unless we all bring our lights from far and near to dispel the darkness. One small light can pierce the darkness. And Jesus, whose birth we are celebrating, tells us that we are the light of the world. Long ago, "God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. And God saw that the light was good" (Genesis 1:3-4). Countless generations later, God spoke again through the prophet Isaiah to say, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light" (Isaiah 9:2; Matthew 4:16).
The first time God spoke to light up the world, the second time God's Word came to light up our hearts with the promise of a coming king, a Savior. How important it is to have that light within. When we've got it on the inside, our whole world is a brighter place. Bring your light to church each week. Brighten the corner where you are by worshiping the God who created you and the Christ who saved you.
As we stand at the threshold of the Christ Child's birth, the manger already stands in the shadow of the cross. Jesus died for the sins of the entire world so that all nations might turn from darkness to light. Jesus is the light of the world (John 8:12), and so are we, his people. Just as Isaiah brought the message of God's light and salvation to his dark times, so may you as God's people today, bear witness faithfully to Jesus, the holy child born within your hearts this night.
You are the light-bearers who have answered the call of the gospel and whose task it is to "proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light" (1 Peter 2:9). As we leave here tonight, we become light-bearers to a dark and troubled world. Keep your lights burning brightly so others can follow as you illuminate the path to salvation. May others find Jesus, the light of the world, through you. Go shine.
1. Mary Anna Vidakovich, Sing to the Lord (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1994), p. 15.
2. Thomas Kinkade, Christ, the Light of the World (Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1999), p. 29.