Christmas Vigil

Isaiah 9:1–6
Titus 2:11–14
Luke 2:1–14

It all begins with light. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in a land of gloom a light has shone.” Welcoming that light, believing in that light, is where Christmas begins. It is a feast primarily of light. Yes, more candles in the chapel, special candles on the table and of course lights on the trees and for some on every corner of the roof! Christmas begins with light because that is where God begins his creative work. The light that opens Christmas is the light that opened the story of our world and thus the story of humanity on that first day. Light brings us back to the creative word and hand of God, the first day. But we are at that first day for as Isaiah says, a child is born. Birth is the beginning of a new life.

The people of Isaiah’s day experienced darkness. It was a heavy yoke of a foreign power; it was the rod that beat them into submission. It was the darkness of injustice, the gloom of corrupt leadership in the community. Today it might be the darkness of a pandemic that spreads gloom and uncertainty. But there is the darkness of our own choices, the choices of whom to let in and whom to keep out, the choices of who benefits from economic success. Or perhaps the gloom that comes simply by our choice of words. It is in the midst of this darkness that we are asked tonight to see not a simple light but a great light, a light that we cannot control, a light that is shining even when our eyes and feet are grooping to find a place to put our steps.

Today light simply shines as pure gift. And it is as the prophet says a relief, a release from heaviness. It comes as a victory over anything that breathes of darkness and night. Yes, we gather in the night because there is news of a light shining in the midst of the darkness. And the news is the darkness cannot overcome this light. This light will win in the end.

After Isaiah’s description of new light as a conquering light, as victory over the power of darkness comes the shocking revelation that the hero of this new world is a child. Into the midst of human frailty, of our wounds that seem incurable, of so many roadblocks to goodness and mutuality, there is the most vulnerable representative of humanity, a child. But our God is a God who finds power and strength and yes light in what perhaps we would normally scoff at or call foolishness.

When an angel comes in the night, as the gospel tells it, he comes to the only ones awake, shepherds, a lowly group, living out in the countryside, overlooked like that shepherd from Bethlehem long ago. The angel comes to those who in the midst of darkness are looking after others, to those who are defying night by caring, nurturing, by protecting the vulnerable, those susceptible to wandering off. In the midst of the night, God’s glory shines around them. Light surrounds the shepherds, embraces them as it were and from that light comes the news of joy: there is a child born. Yes, something new is about to begin in the world. Something that God will have a direct hand in. That good news shines around the shepherds and their night watch suddenly holds news of joy and a creative moment. The child in David’s city sets off a new beginning for the relationship between God in heaven and human beings on earth: Glory to God in the highest and on earth (where you and I are) peace to those who are open to this gift of new birth. Peace–a new possibility of living together, a healing and binding up of wounds, a way toward forgiveness that lets go of old wrongs. Peace means reconciliation, a coming together in a new way. This says the angel is what this infant is all about.

For a moment, the shepherds find themselves surrounded by a glory and light that holds the meeting between heaven and earth, between God and humanity. But Christmas is the feast of God marrying, as it were, himself to our human flesh. It is the beginning of the final bonding of our God with his image in human beings. It may be easy to believe in God and to accept humanity—but hold them apart. Yet the light that shines today is a light that shines on the two coming together here on earth, here in a Middle Eastern animal stall and feeding trough. Yes, heaven and earth meet in a newborn child wrapped up like all babies in their first human clothes.

The center of our celebration this night is the Child. Isaiah famously proclaims a child is born; the angel tells the watchful shepherds there is a child newly wrapped, lying in manger-it is the sign you have been waiting for. Go and see! How often we pray in the Psalms “It is your face, O Lord, I seek; hide not your face.”  How long do we say God is absent but I am looking for him. Where is he? Where is he when things are dark and go wrong? I want to see his face? Tonight God answers our longing to see his face. We will find it in his child. This may seem so innocent at first, but is it? What is in the face of the Child, what presence? The American novelist Marilynne Robinson in her novel Gilead, has the old Congregationalist pastor John Ames say: “Any human face has a claim on you, because you can’t help but understand the singularity of it, the courage and loneliness of it. But this is truest of the face of an infant.” Today God gives us his face in the face of his infant son. Isaiah gives something of the grand singularity of this face: Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace! And the angel outside Bethlehem adds on: Savior, Christ and Lord.

Every human face has a claim on you. Today God’s human face is seen for the first time. Filled with uniqueness, we are invited to look upon it. Once we do, we submit ourselves to what it asks of us. It will hold us—just think of how we look at an infant and talk about his or her face! But to celebrate the birth of God’s only child and to say yes to that is also to be captured by it. We cannot then look at any other human face or even other faces and not be changed. The face of God has appeared, his gift to us, and looking upon his face in Christ our lives begin their process of transformation. A transformation that leads to lives of justice, awareness of others and God; lives that see in the face of others a marvelous wonder; lives that are eager to do good. Lives that are willing, like the shepherds, to be embraced and held by the glory of love that shown this night in the fields of Bethlehem. A love that comes from God on high: Glory to him and on earth peace.

~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB