The Nativity of the Lord-Mass during the Night
Isaiah 9:1–6
Titus 2:11–14
Luke 2:1–14
Christmas is a feast of light. The official prayer of the Christmas Mass that we prayed speaks of the splendor of true light radiating in the night. The prayer reminds us that we have known the mysteries of light in our lives. Ultimately, our minds are illuminated so that our actions may shine with light. The prophet Isaiah opens the feast with the grand proclamation that “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, places of gloom have seen light shine on them” (Is 9:1). Of course, we know something of light associated with Christmas from the many trees and houses decorated outside with lights. The lights on the trees inside are a fascination when we are young. As we get older and see these lights around towns and decorating malls, they bring a sense of comfort. We might wonder at times if there is too much light in decorations. But we will in the end say, no, we need these lights. This is an indicator that light holds an attraction for us in its beauty and in its hope for a renewed earth with the richness of its cultures.
The light, says the prophet tonight, shines in the darkness; it shines on people living in gloom. Perhaps for the light of Christmas to make any sense, we first need to acknowledge the darkness in our world and in our hearts. Christmas is not a season to forget all the darkness that we acknowledge or reluctantly admit. Or worse, it is not a time to deny the darkness. We live in a broken world, a fragile world.
Who are the people living and working in the darkness? For the prophet Isaiah, it is that section of Israel that had fallen under the dictatorship of Assyria, the super power of his day. Every Israelite who experienced that knew the sound of the invading boots. They saw and heard the cracking of the whip of slavery, the yoke that forced them to work or go in one direction or their blood would be shed. Anyone who knows the history of Assyria at war knows the cruelty and violence with which they exercised power and dominion. Forced labor and exile were their preferred methods of conquering. This is the darkness that the prophet knows and sees. And in that darkness, he sees God’s response: a child, a son.
The darkness Isaiah sees is not for his time. We can name who the people are living in darkness now: It is the human family, brothers and sisters, who live with war and conflict; it is that portion of humanity on the move that arrive at borders, walking in hope, but find the way blocked, or in the story of Christmas, “no room at the inn.” Humanity living where poverty reigns and the dregs seem endless or who live under dubious political structures or are caught in rampant economic inequality by powers seeking oil or weapons. Or it is the brothers and sisters standing out in the open air because their houses and living have been blown away in a whirlwind. What of the darkness of the drug addict’s mind or a family member hemmed in by addiction. Yes, the darkness of Isaiah is well-known in our human family.
Yet it is for those in such darkness that a great light is seen today; it is for those in gloom that light is shining tonight. But it is not a light of our own making, a candle or electric bulb, white or colored. The prophet says look, there is a child born for those in darkness, a son is given to us who know gloom. This is God’s response to the power, the slavery, the war and violence that breathe in darkness. We look for relief from oppression and structures of sin and how does God respond? He responds in the fragility of a child. A child whom we all know is powerless, except when the child is God’s gift. In the powerlessness of this child, a new world opens up for us. It is a world not just for you and I in our comfortable society, but a child for the earth, for humanity, for all its peoples. On this child’s shoulders, rests a dominion of peace, of justice and freedom—not on our terms, but on God’s terms.
We gather as a church in the darkness this Christmas night, we do this so we can proclaim that light has come and will shine all the brighter for its contrast to the dark. It is not a flickering light, like a candle ready to go out. It is a clear light that only our God has promised and we believe has come true. In the end, darkness, we believe, does not reign; it is light that rules. It is imperative that we proclaim this light in the darkness and especially for those who are living in it in any form.
The story of Jesus’ birth has him born in the night. This is not by mere chance. It is because he is the child of light. Listen closely to the story again and you will find where the light is shining. It shines around those earning a living in the darkness. It is around the shepherds that the glory of the Lord shines. It is around the lowly shepherds, whose work goes on even in dark, that glory and light shines. And they receive the same message that Isaiah gave: a child is born for you, your joy and your hope. And they go and see. But that is not all. They talk and speak about the child.
We need to be the shepherds who go about telling all that the light means. For the light becomes real when we sit with it, when we are in awe of its radiance, and finally when we speak about it. For Christmas happens when the unspeakable light that is God is spoken and becomes our flesh, a child for us. And Christmas continues to happen when we in our turn become shepherds who speak the word about the light we have come to believe. The more we proclaim that light, the more we live that light, the more humanity will know God’s plan, God’s vision for us, a plan for peace, for solidarity among humans, for justice, for an earth that is a garden bearing fruit and a place of beauty for all.
~Prior, Fr. Joel Macul, OSB