Each Christmas, my parents would read the account of the birth of Jesus as told in Luke: “At that time the Roman emperor, Augustus, decreed that a census should be taken throughout the Roman Empire.” It’s a tradition I’ve tried to carry forward with my kids. I love how the efficiency of the narrative highlights the focus on Mary’s treasured thoughts. I love that humble shepherds get paragraphs while the rulers barely get phrases. It all seems fitting for a story that turns realities upside down: the first are now last, the humbled exalted.
However, as I get older, I find myself more drawn to another gospel’s account. The poetry of John speaks truth to me in a way narrative, limited by definition, can not.
Perhaps it’s the association of cartoonish nativity scenes and pageants, or the ritual of reading from the Bible before getting presents.
Or- my need to consider the why of the story is now greater than the what of the story.
Because I find myself battling a cynicism of a world that seems to be growing more shallow and cruel each day.
And that cynicism extends to myself just as often- as I consider my shortcomings and the way I find myself in the Avett Brothers’ lyric: “there’s a darkness upon me that’s flooded in light and I’m frightened by those who don’t see it.”
John’s gospel account can’t be told as a child’s story. It’s heavier than that. It speaks of eternity and acknowledges the harshness of existing in our reality. Christmas should be a celebration, but it’s a celebration because the divine entered into the broken, the corrupt, the dark.
We fill our social media pages with happy images but often Christmastime joys are fleeting and shallow because the world is too broken, and corrupt, and dark to be overcome with gifts and carols. We need to be reminded, I need to be reminded, that the only light that truly overcomes darkness is Christ.
In my own life I have been blessed in specific ways, particularly with a family that is woven together with the gospel’s thread- a wife and friend whose grace and faith humble me. And still I need to be reminded. My anxieties, and the restlessness I feel when I’m not immersed in work, can push me toward darkness, but the light of The Gospel reminds me that- while I live in a world fringed by darkness- my call is to embrace and point others toward light that is Jesus.
“The Word gave life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.”
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment