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We are not the only people who light important candles at this
time of year. Christian communities have the Advent wreath. Its
candles prepare us to light that one central candle in our lives
-- the Christ. Our brothers and sisters who are Jewish light the
mennorah. Their candles are a part of the festival of lights. It
reminds Jewish families and worshipers that God miraculously
provided sufficient oil to keep lamps burning, long after the oil
should have run out. Now it celebrates how God still keeps our
spiritual light kindled within us. Spirituality is always a
journey toward the source of light and life.
It's no accident that candles are such a part of our Advent
preparation and our Christmas decor. There's a reason for the
placement of lights on our Christmas trees and it is more than a
quaint tradition and visual enchantment. There is a deep, though
usually unspoken, connection to be made between these lights of
Christmas and the light needed for our guidance. They light our
path to hope and the proper course of action in our complicated
world. They illuminate our way to sustain relationships,
otherwise darkened by all kinds of shadows. We need all the light
we can get and Christmas promises more than a twinkle.

A bright light will soon shine in the heavens -- over the heads
of all -- seeking to guide them from above. The placement of a
star over Bethlehem is a reminder for all wise men and women.
From the east, as well as from every other direction, people need
to have their paths illuminated by the love and guidance of God.
It is that very light, symbolized by candles and sought when
we follow stars, which John recognized as Jesus himself. John was
a bright fellow in his own right, with a significant following of
his own. But he had the spiritual sense to know that his role was
to reflect the light from another source. Jesus was the light
about whom John testified, to whom he witnessed. And it is that
same Jesus who enlightens our minds; warms our hearts, and
brightens our spirits as we prepare for his coming once again.
Some of us have known people who seemed to reflect a warm
inner glow. There have been those who crossed our paths whose
faces seemed to radiate the very glow of God in their life. Our
spiritual tradition is full of such lights. Some very fortunate
followers once got a glimpse of Moses when he came down from the
mountain. His face shown with an almost mystical light. And no
wonder. When you have spoken with God in a burning bush your face
would radiate, too. And with more than a sunburn.
Some mystics among us may claim to perceive auras about the
face, head or body of others. They believe it indicates the
health or mood of the individual who seems to be glowing in this
way. There are those who suggest this phenomenon is at the root
of halos in artistic representations of holy figures, saints and
angels.
But the real source of this awe, in the face of spiritually
radiant people, may be like our own experience of persons who
seem to be aglow in a spiritual way. Fred was such a person when
I went to visit him in his nursing home. I visited him partly
because I took such inspiration from the way he radiated the
faith. Now Fred was far enough along in years that he had been
retired for almost as long as I had been alive. He

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didn't seem to want to talk much about things back there. He was
alive with what was going on right now in the lives of the people
around him. He took a deep interest in those who served him and
he, too, tried to serve the people with whom he lived.
But the remarkable thing about Fred, for me, was how his room
seemed to be brighter than anyone else's. There were the same
number of lamps and the ceiling light, but they didn't have to be
on for you to see the light of Christ in Fred's welcome. The
curtains were always open to let in as much sunlight as possible,
but the effect was the same when it was cloudy, raining, or even
at night. Fred's place was brightly decorated; he spoke of
wanting it that way. But Fred was always brighter and it was a
true blessing to see it. I don't know that I could call it Fred's
aura, and Fred would scoff at the idea of a halo on him. But I
think I've seen something of what halos are all about. Fred was a
warm, bright, energetic, illuminating example of devotion and
compassion.
Then there was my mother's capacity to face the death of my
father with remarkable courage and faith. In the days immediately
after his death, she responded in a way that will always be an
example to me of the source of light that is within us. We had
all worried about how she would do, of course. While my dad's
death was not unexpected and all of us had been preparing, there
ultimately is no adequate readiness. In addition we were
concerned because she seemed weakened by his long illness and all
the forms of energy it required.
As friends came to console and as his service of victory was
arranged and then conducted, the response of many to the
impression made upon them by my mother was truly inspiring. A few
even used the same word, "radiant." When one or two mentioned it
in her hearing I remember she worried because she wouldn't want
to give the impression that she somehow was not grieving
appropriately. To her, the idea that she might be glowing
connoted a kind of happiness that she didn't want to project. She
did seem to be radiant and it was entirely from within. While
some of us worried that the whole thing would be hardest for her,
she may have been the only

one whose faith shone. Only she was radiant with the blessing of
God's love for her and her husband and the blessings they had
known together.
Bright lights have a way of saying spiritual things. It's part
of the impact that is made in the account of Jesus'
transfiguration. The report was that Jesus' garments shown with a
white no laundry soap could produce. The very meaning of the term
"transfigure" is that something "shone through." At the
resurrection the men who made the announcement "gleamed like
lightning." No wonder it added to the evidence they were angels!
The element of light as a spiritual phenomenon may even be a
part of the report of those who tell us about their "after-death"
experience. One of the common threads they often speak of is the
calming presence of an intensely bright light that seems to have
a personal spiritual identity. In some cases they return with a
feeling it was someone they knew. It's not just a light -- it
seems to be a "person" who is a light. I'm not surprised.
No wonder Jesus used light as the image of how highly he
thought of John the Baptist. At the death of John, Jesus spoke
one of the most dramatic eulogies in all of scripture. Grieving
the death of his cousin and forever elevating the depth of John's
spirituality and ministry, our Lord said of him, "He was a
burning and a shining light." (5:35)
In, with and under this image we can see the suggestion that
light is an instructive image for several clear reasons. In
particular, the symbol suggests aspects of faith that provide
illumination, warmth and power. First, we understand that we need
light in order to see clearly. Since blindness can be described
as darkness, would any objects have color in an atmosphere of
complete black? We need light in order to make that perception.
Whether in daytime or in dimly lit places, one needs adequate
light to find one's way or to read comfortably some message or
instruction. The light of Christ was like that in the life of
John as it is in our own experience.

The issues with which we struggle often seem dimly lit. Even
the pages of scripture, while we might see them quite clearly,
are not always easy matters to interpret. Life can present us
with a very perplexing and dangerous path. In every case we need
the light of faith -- provided in the life and ministry of the
living Word -- to illuminate our situation. It illuminates our
path and our surroundings with spiritual clarity and burns
brightly enough to give light to the way ahead.
If you follow light to its source you will usually come to an
object or device of some kind that is producing heat or warmth as
well as the light. The love of God is like that. It is not just a
source of light to provide spiritual wisdom and intellectual
clarity. At its source is the love of God which we experience in
human relationship. With one another; embracing one another with
the love we know in Christ, we not only give light to the world,
but we share the warmth of God's own love.
That's because the source of light is usually a force
generating power. Both heat and light are by-products of the
energy that is being produced. We know that by harnessing the
power, we can produce heat and in turn translate that into
mechanical action. Electricity is the result of physical laws of
nature in which a power source has been harnessed, from which one
product is light. But power is an essential ingredient of how we
receive light from its source in Christ. There is power for the
dark days of our life, not just to illuminate our struggles. With
Christ we can see the struggle more clearly and endure it
faithfully. The power in Christ's presence enables us to survive
it and overcome it. There is power in the form of courage to make
choices and change directions, not just the light to see the
dilemma clearly. There is energy to change things and provide
food, shelter, clothing and health for those around us, not just
the light to see their need.
Any one of these characteristics of light would be helpful.
Together they provide us images of all of what God can do in us
and through us; even as he did in the life of John the Baptist.
One more characteristic, however, is important to remember. Every
source of light -- the source of heat and

energy that produces the flame -- is consumed in the process.
Whether it is the filament in a light bulb, or a log in your
fireplace, in order to provide you that light or heat it is
ultimately destroyed in the process. John gave his life to
provide the light of which Jesus spoke. And if God would so love
the world as to give his Son, what makes us think that we come
out of this free and clear? We also get consumed in the
sacrifice. That's the meaning of every cross we take up. John's
own life was spent providing light, as was the life of our Lord.
To be passionate about people is to be consumed in their service.
From a verse curiously left out of the lectionary for today, I
take the clue: "Jesus is the light of every person coming into
the world." (v. 9) It is one of the most extraordinary verses in
scripture. It blesses every man, woman and child with the
spiritual essence of life -- the light of Christ. It doesn't say
Jesus might be that light in your life or the life of this or
that particular person. It says Jesus is that light in the life
of every person. It neither talks about how you can step up and
get your inner candle lit, a kind of spiritual "how-to," nor how
your foibles and failures might extinguish it. The statement is
clear and powerful. Jesus is the light of every person who comes
into the world.
You see, you are able not only to reflect the light of Christ.
The light of Christ is present in our very souls and meant to
illuminate the lives of those around us. You and I have within us
the very source of spiritual energy that can dynamically change
things. Within us we already have the capacity to warmly welcome
and reconcile a world that is bitterly cold and dark; a world
that finds it so much easier to shut people out than help them
in.
The light that is prepared to shine in our lives this
Christmas is not the sort that erupts in the fireworks of the
summer's Fourth of July. The fire of faith casts a glow that is
far different from firecrackers, sparklers and Roman candles.
They may shine brightly with a burst of blinding light. Fireworks
can make a big impression and even as much noise, but they soon
die off leaving little to show for their ever having been lit.

We welcome the light that shines from within. Like warm,
steady candles, sufficient to dispel the shadows, ultimately
spent, we welcome the light of every person who comes into the
world.