The Light of Christ

Leonardo Da Vinci's Benois Madonna

This week's focus is on spiritual health. 

Last week I drove south of Reno before sunrise. I found a peaceful spot in a valley by a half-frozen stream with snow covered mountains to both the east and west. I settled in to watch the sunrise. I’ve always loved sunsets, but this was a new experience.

As I waited, I noticed how cold and dark it was. The dried out, dormant grass around me seemed far removed from the verdant green of only a few months before. The once fertile ground was now frozen, and the stream that would have been an inviting place to swim was now cold, bleak, and even dangerous.

And then the sun began to rise. From the darkness there first appeared a deep reddish hue above the snow-capped mountains. Slowly the light began to pierce the darkness, and more of the mountains became visible. And then the sun appeared, first as a barely perceptible glow and then just a small sliver before it became fully visible over the eastern mountains. As the sun rose and the temperature warmed, a beautiful low fog developed over the boggy banks of the stream—the breath of dawn as a friend once called it.

This sunrise reminded me of what the birth of Jesus represents. It is the power of God’s love to come into this world and pierce even the darkest and coldest places in our lives, in our memories, and in our world. Where there is ice, fallow land, and darkness, God’s love penetrates and transforms.  

And to me that is what Christmas is. It is the celebration of the birth of Jesus, the celebration of eternal light piercing and overcoming  darkness in all its forms.

Merry Christmas friends.