Calvin Synod Herald, 1974 (74. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1974-12-01 / 12. szám
4 CALVIN SYNOD HERALD Take Herod, for instance. The arrival of the Child revealed him — as Herod, — as a power-hungiy mad dog, — as a murderer of children, — as a would-be extinguisher of the revealing light of Bethlehem. The light did not make a murderer of Herod. It just revealed him as one. Take the shepherds. The Christmas light revealed them as simple people capable of a great spiritual experience. Revealed them as the vanguard of those people who always stood closest to the heart of the Christ child, common folks: like you and like I. Or take the citizens of Bethlehem. The Christmas light revealed them as petit bourgois. There was no room for the Christ child in the inn. No room in any of the Bethlehem homes. These good, upright citizens minded their own business and the devil take the hindmost. The Christmas light did not make them selfish, it just revealed their sordid egotism. Or take the Three Kings. The Light revealed them as recognizers of real values. As people with a keen sense of right priorities. The Light did not make them wise, it just revealed their wisdom. And the Light 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 shouldn’t antagonize the mighty ones. He should be moved by the human predicament — but his heart should not break by his total identification with it. He should walk the path of obedience — but should avoid the terrible logic of the cross. In the Christmas light Simeon saw the sword. Behind the sweet sentimentality of the beautiful scene he saw the essential tragedy of motherhood. * I could continue this line of thought, but I’m sure the central meaning of our text has become quite clear to you by now. There is one question left, and that is the crux of the matter: — What did the Christmas light reveal in our own lives? — What picture became visible when we stopped at the manger? — What motives, what springs of thought and action have been bared? What is it that became visible behind our friendly smiles, holiday greetings, and easygoing sociability? Isn’t it that we are afraid to stay alone lest we have to take a square look at ourselves? And what is behind our readiness to help others? Isn’t it that we are painfully interested in the opinion other people form of us, and would do practically anything to have a good “public image?” And what is behind our love of family, affection for our children? Isn’t it the nagging fear that we failed as husbands, wives, and parents, giving 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, and social status? Isn’t it a secret inferiority complex that wouldn’t let us rest, unless we prove and prove and prove ourselves over and over again? And what is behind our interest in and dedication for the affairs of the community, church, and nation? Isn’t it the fact that we couldn’t put our own house into order, and try to compensate by meddling in the affairs of the larger unit? Isn’t it possible that the aftermath reveals that, instead of getting out of the mess we made of our lives, 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 couldn’t get 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 it and moves in and he doesn’t have to look at it any more. Isn’t this the way we are with the — sins, — infirmities, — impurities, — lies and — frustrations of our life? Don’t we move deeper in deeper into the mess? Don’t we accept it more and more as a way of life, so we don’t have to look at it from the outside? Isn’t this the the true picture, or at least part of the true picture revealed by the presence of the Christ child? * Now anyone of you might ask me: so what? What’s the use of this revealing game? Isn’t it better to let lying dogs sleep? Well, it depends! If you are afraid of dogs — don’t wake them. But I hope to God that there are many among us who are not afraid — not afraid of the ugly bark, and not afraid of the bites. Not afraid, because we know that the light of the Christmas star is not only a revealing light, but a healing light also. The spiritual stripping, 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 Zacchaeus, look at the woman caught in adultery, look at Bartimeus, look at one of the thieves on the cross, look at the Apostle 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 guiding light, a rebuilding light at the same time, a kind of spiritual laser-beam (Continued on page 6)
