Isaiah 9:2 reads, “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.”
The ninth chapter of the book of Isaiah tells the story of the Israelites, who were held captive by the Assyrian empire. It was a terrifying time of deep darkness and distress. The Israelites had no privileges and were far from the temple and the capital.
They hoped an era would soon come when their persecutors would be conquered and dethroned, and wars would be resolved.
They hoped they would soon be delivered from their afflictions and experience freedom from a God who was with them and on their side. They hoped a messiah would rescue them and that they would see a great light radiating amid their darkness. They longed for a light that would lead them to wholehearted rejoicing.
In this Christmas season, we may find ourselves longing and hoping for greater light, hope, peace, joy and love.
Maybe we long to hear our children squeal and excitedly say “thank you” for that present we bought for them that we couldn’t reasonably afford, for the plate of cookies we spent hours perfecting that ended up empty, or for our family to agree that “Die Hard” is a Christmas movie.
Perhaps we are hoping for relatives to at least pretend to get along, for a hug and acknowledgment that someone we love is missing from our holiday festivities, or for a few quieter moments alone where we aren’t in charge.
This Christmas season, we may find ourselves longing and hoping for this week to hold less darkness (or even grayness) and more rejoicing, relaxation and cheer to hold and proclaim a greater light.
Like the Israelites, we may feel held captive by our circumstances, in rooms full of chaotic present unwrapping, or by the tension at tables where political conversations run rampant.
Some of us are held captive by the fear that this Christmas won’t be as memorable as the ones in years past or that the break won’t feel as long as we wish it would.
Like the Israelites, we may feel far from our church and faith. Some of us may feel far from home.
We may long for eras when our kids learn to share better, dream of Christmas breaks when our to-do lists are a little shorter, and marvel at the idea of “all is calm, all is bright” coming to life. We may long to be delivered from our afflictions or even for the peace that comes with the holidays to last a little longer.
As we long for greater or brighter light this week, we can experience a unique tension with God and our faith, expecting a great light or darkness to overwhelm our holiday experiences. Yet, we have seen that light and darkness synchronously coexist through the birth and life of the Messiah.
God’s presence in the form of a child radiated a great light amid the Israelites’ darkness, and it continues to illuminate our darkness today. Our hope remains in the promise of a dawning light that takes form through well-received presents, beautifully iced cookies and unanimously voted movie nights.
The light also shines through connecting conversations after relatives bicker, reminiscing on previous Christmases where the table was full and jolly, and in moments where we softly shut a door and say a quick, grounding prayer by ourselves. Our faith takes root in moments where Christ’s light leads us to rejoice in moments of wrinkled wrapping paper, short to-do lists, stable births and infant cries.