Reformátusok Lapja, 1971 (71. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1971-12-01 / 12. szám
REFORMÁTUSOK LAPJA 5 THE REVEALING CHRISTMAS LIGHT Luke 2:35 Our text is part of the beautiful Song of Simeon, singing over the eight-day-old baby in the Temple — visualizing that the child was sent .. that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” “Christ, the Light of the World” is not a new thought. The study groups of the World Council of Churches spent years over this particular theme. He is the bringer of divine light, the lamp unto our feet on the path of salvation, the column of fire, leading us toward our God-given destiny. All these thoughts are quite familiar to church-going people, but this is not what I wish to discuss. It is the other role of this light that awakened my curiosity, namely, the fact that this light, in addition to making clear a lot of outside things for us, throws its searching beam into our inner being, and makes a lot of facts visible about our real nature. The Child is the light of the world, of both worlds, objective and subjective. When we get really close to the miracle of the Incarnation, our real selves come into focus for better or worse. That’s what hapened 2000 years ago, and that is what happens today, when behind the phoney glitter of the season we have time to stop and have an encounter with the essence of Christmas. The aftermath of the encounter reveals us for ívhat ive actually are. The arrival of the Child revealed Herod as the murderer of children. The light did not make a murderer of him, it just revealed him as one. It revealed the shepherds as simple people capable of a great spiritual experience. It revealed the citizens of Bethlehem as petit bourgois. It revealed the three kings as persons not satisfied with possessions, as seekers, eternal seekers. It revealed Mary as the woman of the pierced heart, the tragic mother caught on the horns of the eternal dilemma: He should be a man, but he shouldn’t suffer; he should tell the truth, but should not antagonize the mighty ones; he should be moved by the human predicament, but his heart should not break by his identification with it; he should walk the path of obedience, but should avoid the terrible logic of the cross. Behind the sweet sentimentalism the Light showed the essential tragedy of motherhood. It also revealed in Simeon the humility of real wisdom. He bowed to a child. In him the light revealed the prototype of man, the eternal seeker, the man who never gives up hope, the man who therefore shall be satisfied. There is one question left — what did the Christmas light reveal in our own lives? What picture became visible when we looked at ourselves? What motives, what springs of thought and action have been bared in this honest searchlight? What is it that became visible behind our friendly smiles and easygoing sociability? Isn’t it that we are afraid to stay alone with ourselves and have a good look at ourselves in our solitude? What is behind our charity and readiness to help? Isn’t it that we are painfully interested in the opinion other people form of us, and would do practically anything to present a favorable “public image”? What is behind our love of family — affection for our children? Isn’t it a nagging fear that we failed as husbands, wives, and parents, exactly at those points that really count? Isn’t it a guilty feeling that we gave everything, except that which we should have given, namely ourselves? Not things, but ourselves. And what is behind our nervous chase after results, successes, position, social advancement? Isn’t it a sorry “inferiority complex” that wouldn’t let us rest, unless we prove ourselves again and again? And what is behind our interest in and dedication for the affairs of the community, the nation, the church? Isn’t it the fact that we couldn’t put our own house in order, and try to compensate for it by meddling in the affairs of the larger unit? Isn’t it possible that the aftermath reveals that it is an unholy mess we made of our lives and we are not on our way out? On the contrary we are sinking deeper and deeper into it!? Chesterton writes about this man who saw an ugly house, but it was so completely ugly that he could not rid himself of its fascination. Wherever he goes it pops up in front of his eyes, marring the landscape. Finally he realizes he has to do something about it in order not to go crazy, so he buys the house and moves in. He does not now have to look at it from the outside. Isn’t this the way we are with the sins, infirmities, impurities, lies and frustrations of our life? Don’t we move deeper and deeper into the mess, accepting it more and more as a way of life, so that we don’t have to look at it from the outside? Isn’t this what the Christmas Light reveals about our lives? Aren’t these the thoughts that are revealed by the Child? Now anyone of you might ask — so what? What’s the use of this revealing game? Isn’t it better to let sleeping dogs lie? Well, it depends! If you are afraid of dogs, don’t wake them! But I know many of you are not afraid of these dogs; not afraid of the ugly bark, not afraid of the bites. Not afraid, because we know that the beam of the Christmas star is not only a revealing beam, but a healing one as well. The spiritual baring, the exposing of the secret motives, the poking into dark corners is not the final aim of the Divine Light. Its goal is total recovery, total healing, and the walking of the healed person in the newly found light. Look at Zaccheaus, Bartimaeus, one of the thieves on the Cross; look at Paul. The light of the living Christ exposed terrible secrets, a nightmare of darkness in all these lives. But it was a healing light, a rebuilding light, a guiding light at the same
