“…the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death…” Luke 1:78-79
No matter how much you love winter, I think we can agree that the short days and long nights deeply disrupt our daily patterns. We all know the feeling of wondering if it’s time to go to bed yet only to find that it’s 5:30 pm. Our circadian rhythms get thrown for a loop and we wonder how awkward it would be to declare our own hibernation.
I can’t imagine living in another part of the world where this phenomenon is even more pronounced. When Nolan and I honeymooned in Maine in the summer of 2016, I would awake every morning, sunlight streaming through the window, ready for the day. And then I’d see that it was 4:00 am. The opposite sounds seriously depressing. A friend of mine who recently traveled to Alaska told me about the importance of “happy lights,” mood-boosting lamps to ward off seasonal affective disorder. It makes total sense. Too much darkness really does take a toll on our psyche.
It’s really fascinating how God’s creation often mirrors some sort of spiritual truth, and darkness and light are no exception. Too much spiritual darkness is hazardous to our souls. And unfortunately, we wade knee-deep in it every single day.
Zechariah knew well what it was like to go about life surrounded by this darkness. The word that he uses in this verse to talk about this darkness carries a two-fold metaphorical meaning. Strong’s lexicon defines the term as both an “ignorance respecting divine things and human duties” and “the accompanying ungodliness and immorality.” Darkness is both a mindset and a lifestyle. More specifically, darkness is a lifestyle that proceeds from a mindset. We look around our world and we see acts of evil, but these do not happen in a vacuum. These acts are the result of an “ignorance” of the Creator and a disregard for His ways. Darkness starts within.
The sobering reality is that no one is immune. We look at our own hearts and, no matter how pious we may seem, we see traces of ignorance and disregard. We look at our own actions and can’t deny that they are tainted with darkness. We need light, a light that pierces to the deepest shadows inside. And the amazing news is that that light has come.
I absolutely cannot get over the specific image that Zechariah uses for the light that Christ brings. The light is not a blinding flash like Saul experienced on the road to Damascus. The light is not a blazing pillar of fire like the Israelites followed in the desert. The light is a sunrise, a beautiful wonder that the whole human race can experience.
Our pastor preached on this passage a few weeks ago (and if you’d like to hear someone a lot more knowledgeable and eloquent teach on this passage, you can listen here: https://www.downtownpres.org/sermons/2020/12/13/why-we-need-the-light). I was struck by his insight on the concept of a sunrise: just as we cannot stare at the sun in its full glory at its peak, we also cannot stare at the intense glory of the Father and walk away unharmed. But when the sun is first rising, we can behold its beauty, we can stare and not be blinded. Glory made accessible. Jesus was God coming to be with us in a way that our frail humanity could see. Brilliance condescended. The Divine wrapped up in the familiar.
Jesus was God coming to be with us in a way that our frail humanity could see. Brilliance condescended. The Divine wrapped up in the familiar.
Just as the lights of Christmas bring little glimmers of hope to a dark December, Jesus illuminates our dark world, our dark circumstances, our dark hearts. And the real hope is that while our Christmas lights are now coming down, the true Light still shines, and will all year long. We don’t have to wait another long year to look upon His illumination.
I don’t know where the darkness is for you right now. Maybe it’s a fresh disappointment that has already crushed the hope of this new year. Or maybe it’s an extended season of suffering, a long winter’s night where the daylight feels forever away. But can I leave you with this mantra that our pastor shared in the sermon I referenced earlier? I’ve been repeating this to my soul frequently, and I’m choosing to believe that it’s true. “Jesus is my sunrise. The darkness is doomed.”
Cultivate. 