Our Christmas lights are still burning tonight.
I know, it seems a strange thing to post tonight. A strange argument to begin on this day, January 6th. When should you take your lights down? Some do it early, some do it later, a few leave them up all year. If there was ever a year to leave them up, it seems that this one might be that year.
What are the lights for, what do they represent. Lots of things, more things than I really want to go into right now. But one thing on this Epiphany night that they represent is hope. Hope that Christ is with us. Hope that peace is possible. Hope that no matter how dark it might seem, we can cling to the light, lean into the light, let the light shine.
Epiphany is a declaration that Christ is real and is indeed the light of the world. The symbol of the star that guided the magi speaks of something that goes beyond the comfortable boundaries of me and mine. It speaks of a proclamation of justice and of peace, driven by the immense and almost incomprehensible love of God for all people. Epiphany is our guiding star, our reminder that we are people who are know Emmanuel, God with us.
It is hard, which is a word that barely bears the weight of pain we feel, to lean into the light in moments of brokenness and shame in the precious halls of our democracy. It is hard to keep the light burning when anger and fear seems to hold the day.
So, how do we respond? What should we do as people of light, as people of hope?
I have two responses building in me at this moment. One is to stand with my Lord and weep over the city.
Luke 19:41-44 As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, 42 saying, "If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. 44 They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God."
Yes, weep for the city, for the nation, for the ideals that are shaken at this moment. Jesus did. I find great comfort in that. Weep but not in despair. We weep because we know there is hope; even in the pain there is hope. We weep because even in this vacuum of leadership we know who leads us. We know how we are to conduct ourselves. We know how to honor our God by loving our neighbor as ourselves. Even when that is hard.
Which is why our lights are still burning on this dark night. We proclaim Emmanuel. We cling to hope. Even today. Especially today. And we stand in that glow and pray for our nation, for the people who are hurting and who are angry and who are so grievously misled. Our lights are still burning.
May it always be so.
Shalom, Derek
