(click link to hear song)
Jesus is Light of the World. This is it. This is what we've all been waiting for - the shining star above the manger. Today, the Light of the World comes to us. He comes to our lives to dispel the darkness. The darkness can be a scary place. The link below the picture is to a song that I suggest taking five minutes to listen to. The story it tells is one of hope and one of challenge. Jesus came into this world to be one of us. He comes to us in the Eucharist to dwell within us. Therein lies the challenge. While He is the light, He has given us the challenge to go light the world. We must light the candle of others in order to spread the light.
Let's talk about the darkness for a minute. When the darkness is prevalent, it feels so heavy, so oppressive. One time in my life (I'll never do it again!) I went caving. I don't mean in one of those highly advertised, safe caverns with tour guides. No. My friends and I found a place outside of Kutztown PA where there was a cave. A real one. Without any lights. We squeezed through a little hole and with our flashlight and an abundance of courage, we crept through the tiny crevices and rocks. Yes. It was incredibly dumb. I don't remember the exact circumstances, but for some reason, the person with the light had to leave us for a short while. I don't remember if we got lost or if they were just going ahead to see where we were going. I just remember the complete and utter darkness they left behind. My companion and I tried to talk a little, but even that became difficult to do. At first, I was in wonder because it was the first time I had ever truly been in complete darkness. I remember holding my hand in front of my eyes and could see nothing. My companion moved and I could see no movement. Then, the darkness started to put pressure on me. My ears began to pound. My breathing became a little labored. The darkness became like a weight on my chest that nothing could remove.
When the person with the light returned, he found some other people in the cave and wanted to bring us to them. He found a large cavern. What was so cool about that was that with only a small lantern, the entire cavern was lit. We could clearly see each other's faces, the large open space, the beauty of the stalagmites and stalactites. Just a little light, joined with our little light overcame even the darkest dark. Still, the claustrophobia kicked in and I wanted out of that cave. The light was a bit too artificial and the fear that the batteries would die overcame me. I had to get out and see the real light. The pure, fresh, bright light of day. As I said, I'll never do that again. I found out that I'm afraid of the dark. The real dark.
There were lessons to be learned in that cave that day. First, never let your light leave you. Second, no one can take the darkness away without the light. My companion's chit chat did not make the mood or the atmosphere any lighter. It made it more desperate. I couldn't see her. I didn't know where she was. Her words didn't mean anything to me because they were just noise in the cave. It was only the light that brought me relief.
I also learned that there is great comfort in joining your light to others. Seeing the light in others eyes, reflecting off their faces, brings a tremendous sense of relief. It lets us know that we're not alone. Others will carry our light when we can't.
Finally, I learned that no matter how much artificial light we carry, we must - absolutely must - get to the true light. We can look for the light at church or doing the good works we're supposed to be doing, but until we find the light inside of us every day, it's artificial. Jesus, the Light of the World, is the only one who can do that for us. However, it is our job to carry that light to others and join their light until they find the light within themselves.
My prayer today is twofold. First, I'm so thankful for all who have carried the flame to light my candles throughout my life. My family and friends who have been there when my candle was extinguished but who joined their light to mine. I'm thankful to Jesus for keeping that fire lit inside of my heart and always, without fail, lighting it when I blow it out. I'd also like to pray that Jesus will show me others who need me to light their candles. I pray that your candles are lit today and that you and I both light as many candles as possible to make sure the Light of the World is brighter than the sun and shines on in the hearts of all. I hope this blog has been a blessing to you as it has been for me. It makes me a little sad that today is the last day to hang a symbol on the Jesse Tree for 2013. But I am hopeful that the lessons we've learned through this journey will light our way into 2014. Merry Christmas!