Every year I see and enjoy elaborate lighting displays in our neighborhood, including the one that jump and dance to the music on the short range FM channel posted on a sign in the front yard. However, the light display I enjoy most is a 15-foot juniper tucked away in the blackness of a neighbor’s backyard with nothing but perhaps three strings of colored lights on it. Through the wrought iron fence I pause and stare at it on every evening or early morning walk with our dog Shasta. Nothing fancy, nothing moving in this display but rather a simple persistent defiance against the darkness.
Every Christmas Eve I labor over what I hope will be a “good” sermon and I review with staff all the details of the multiple services so that they come off “smoothly.” We work hard to make sure that the hospitality and follow-up is in place so that people have a “memorable” experience. However, for all of our hard work, the thing that may be the most meaningful is the simple lighting of our candles at the end of each service as we sing “Silent Night.” Strip away all of the fanfare, give each person a candle with the responsibility to light another person’s candle, and then lift them toward heaven together. I am not sure it gets much better than that. Like that lone tree with simple lights, on that last call to “sleep in heavenly peace,” we stand united together with the Christ child as a persistent defiance against the darkness.
See you with candle in hand tomorrow at 3, 5 or 7 p.m.
