Well, there it went. You remember Christmas, don’t you? It already feels far in the past, even though The Brick furniture stores are still advertising their “extended Boxing Week Sale” three weeks later.
First we journeyed through the annual celebration we call Advent, from the Greek words ‘ad’ (advertise) and ‘vent’ (express frustration). Advent was the preface to Christmas, from the Greek words ‘christ’ (christ) and ‘mass’ (mass). At least I think so.
Remember how the stores and internets bustled with shoppers, especially during Black Friday Month? (Between you and me, Black Friday is much more enjoyable now that I know it’s for people of all colours.)
This year millions of christians continued to protest the war on Christmas by bravely decorating their homes, over-spending, and over-eating. Fortunately the incoming American President has promised evangelicals he will rescue Christmas and bring it back again after many years of it not having gone anywhere.
Here in the Dominion of Canada some of the faithful decided to pressure various levels of government to declare December as ‘Christian Heritage Month’. Believing we’re a christian nation is the favourite pastime of christians who don’t believe we’re a christian nation.
Wait, where was I? Oh yes, in the middle of January, 2025.
Christmas lights have darkened, yet an obvious question about Jesus’ birthday remains largely ignored: Did we do it well? Did any kind of meaningful light shine from all our Christmas lightings? More to the point, how should we do it?
Would Jesus sit in church on Christmas Eve, singing carols, and lighting candles? Maybe.* Would he strap on a party hat on New Years Eve, eat oven hors d’oeuvres, and raise a glass of miracle wine? Possibly. But what would he think of the cultural tsunami of excess, self-indulgence, faux-joy?
I think Jesus would sense the underlying loneliness, greed, and despair that secretly accompanies Christmas and I think he would walk toward it. It’s likely he would trudge past most of our church services to a hospital or homeless encampment, and it’s certain he would make a party happen in the home of some lonely or searching soul.
If you consider yourself a christian, the same question can be asked another way: If Jesus had a do-over and ended up in our community, how would he occupy himself in December and January? Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he loves a good party and gift giving puts a smile on his face, but what about his precious ones who aren’t able to have those things?
That’s the dark side of Christmas, and it’s a world that is just as hidden and real each passing year.
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” ¹
Don’t forget that the joyful birth of Jesus happened in a conquered place during a period cloaked in social, spiritual, economic darkness. The biblical accounts of Jesus’ birth look different from each other but all contain difficult, sorrowful events.
The writings of Matthew make us aware of the politics of the time – a militaristic empire, sociopathic dictators, and religious leaders who cooperate with them. A brooding, narcissistic King Herod dominates the story, justifying the secretive manoeuvrings of Jesus’ family and the visiting Magi.
Luke spins the classic tale of inns, swaddlings, shepherds, angels, enough warm-n-fuzzies to turn a simple Charlie Brown cartoon into a classic. Luke acknowledges the plight of those who are not doing well – the poor, sick, lonely, burdened, female.
One other biblical source speaks of Jesus’s birth, but John does it from an entirely different perspective. There is no baby narrative – no doting parents, no angel choirs, no gifts. Instead, the writer evokes images of the creation of the cosmos as way to unveil Jesus’ pedigree as the eternal one of God; the pre-existent Christ who became a human named Jesus.
But John has little time for political theatre. Herod is nowhere to be found in the entire book and Caesar is only a footnote to the Crucifixion. It’s as if John knows that powerful empires and strong rulers and religious overlords don’t fix darkness – they create it.
Instead, John draws on the darkness of Creation and the darkness felt by the prophets as a way of introducing the cosmic Christ as the ultimate Light. The only light that can shine in spite of evil.
“Let us have eyes of faith to perceive and believe that every Herod will pass, every Caesar will fade, for empires have an expiry date. And let us remember that it is the meek, not the powerful, who will inherit the earth.” ~ Rev. Dr. Munther Isaac
As 2025 begins, some of you may be sensing the darkness. Perhaps it’s because of politics, health, relationships, finances, whatever, and you feel a brooding sense of disorder. Maybe you are spiritually restless, disillusioned, or uncomfortable with your faith.
Good. That means your soul is alive and still has the instinct to know there is More.
I have felt the darkness at various times in my life – even recently. There are far too many daily worries, senseless deaths, political fascists, religious hucksters. But it’s more than that. I feel like the Christianity I was raised in now prefers conspiracy theories, moral platitudes, closed beliefs, and political fanaticism over simple love and truth.
The product marketed by a lot of Christianity looks less and less like Good News. Fundamentalists these days enforce rules and morals Jesus didn’t speak of and brazenly preach ideals he opposed. I now realize I haven’t been leaving them so much as they have been leaving God.
Maybe you can relate, maybe you can’t, maybe you don’t know what to think. That’s why I’d like to blog more about why so many of us are re-examining what we believe. The sabbatical was nice but I’ve reloaded this site so we can share, think, and maybe tip a whole bunch more dangerous idols. (Info coming soon about some tweaks we’re making!)
Yet I’m in a good place – not naive, just in a good place. God is higher, wider, deeper than ever before. I have accepted that darkness is part of the journey and I’m learning to find light in and around me.
Darkness is not only inevitable, it’s necessary for lifesaving hope and renewal. In darkness we become God’s diaspora – the scattered but faithful people who sidestep religion and politics in order to pursue peace, beauty, and justice on earth.² Our task isn’t to stop the dark so much as it is to tear a bright, shining hole in it so we can all begin to see.
“The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness can never extinguish it.” ~ John 1, NLT
It’s not easy to be in darkness, I get it. Nobody wants to be, yet that’s exactly where our struggles discover true light. As Wendell Berry wrote: “Go without sight, and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings …”³
~ ~ ~
* First, it would quite possibly be a synagogue and second, he’d feel pretty awkward sitting there celebrating himself …
¹ Martin Luther King Jr.
² As I final edit this, news of Jimmy Carter’s funeral is unfolding. During his presidency his own people (evangelical christians) stopped supporting him because he was too humble, gracious, inclusive, peace-loving. Too Christ-like. Yet his post-presidency accomplishments were more significant. Outside the halls of power his life made a difference because he set aside the darkness of political power to follow the light of kindness and service.
³ To Know the Dark, by Wendell Berry, from ‘Soul Food – Nourishing Poems for Starved Minds’
