FIRST SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS

December 31, 2023

Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Warwick, R. I.

 

Isaiah 61:10-62:3

Psalm 147:13-24

John 1:1-18

 

Ten days ago, on December 21, we marked the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. Between now and the Spring Equinox on March 19, we can expect the worst of the winter cold even as the days begin to lengthen again. (Although this season has been mild so far.) And a theme running through the readings appointed for this first Sunday after Christmas Day is the light and warmth that Christ brings us, illuminating the world with his glory, dispelling the darkness of sin and death.

 

It’s no accident that today’s reading from the Prophet Isaiah employs springtime imagery to anticipate the Lord’s arrival: “For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations.” Then the prophet switches to the image of light driving out darkness: “For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not rest until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch.”

 

The verses of Psalm 147 that we’ve just prayed together describe a freezing winter storm: “[God] gives snow like wool; he scatters hoarfrost like ashes. He scatters his hail like breadcrumbs; Who can stand against his cold?” But then, in the immediately following verse, comes the springtime thaw: “He sends forth his word and melts them; he blows with his wind and the waters flow.”

 

The Church’s tradition reads such a psalm as depicting not only meteorological but also spiritual realities. God’s word is capable of thawing not only a frozen landscape but also our frozen hearts. Moreover, this image of God blowing with his wind so that the waters flow calls to mind the breath of the Holy Spirit and the waters of Baptism.

 

Today’s Gospel sums up all these images in its description of the Incarnation of the Divine Word, the eternal Son of the Father, whose life is the light of all people: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. … The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.”

 

In the children’s story, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe—a spiritual classic which I recommend highly to readers of all ages—C. S. Lewis deploys the metaphor of winter to portray a fallen world. The alternate-reality land of Narnia, accessed by a group of school children through a magic wardrobe, lies frozen under a curse, blanketed by snow. So, as Lewis puts it, it’s always winter, and Christmas never comes.

 

But when the lion Aslan, the story’s Christ-figure, arrives in Narnia, the snowing ceases, the ice begins to melt, shoots of plants and flowers start poking through the ground, the leaves on the trees begin to bud, and, to cap it all off, Santa Claus arrives with his reindeer and sleigh to distribute gifts to one and all. (Of course, as a British writer of a certain generation, Lewis calls him not Santa Claus but Father Christmas.) Aslan’s arrival in Narnia wonderfully symbolizes Christ bringing light, warmth, and life to a world that has lain for centuries under the curse of darkness, sin, and death. In short, Christmas has come.

 

The Collect of the Day often provides a helpful interpretive key to the appointed readings and psalms. So, let’s listen again to today’s Collect: “Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts, may shine forth in our lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord …”

 

Notice how this this Collect describes a three-step process. First, God pours upon us the light of his incarnate Word. In other words, Jesus Christ comes into the world; his birth is what we’ve just celebrated on Christmas Day. Second, this light is not meant to remain external, illuminating us only from without. So, we pray that it may be enkindled in our hearts—enlightening and warming us from within. Then, third, with our hearts thus set on fire, we pray that the light may shine forth in our lives, bringing life and warmth to those around us—to our families and friends, our homes and workplaces, and indeed further afield, among people and communities across the nation and throughout the world. 

So, to recapitulate—Step One, God pours upon us the light of his Incarnate Word; Step Two, that light ignites and enflames our hearts; and Step Three, that same light shines forth from us brightening the world.

 

A tension sometimes arises in the Church’s life between two tendencies that are sometimes called “personal religion” and “the Social Gospel”—or, in more Catholic language, between “the contemplative life” and “the active life.” That is: between those, on one hand, who emphasize the Christian’s personal relationship with God in worship, prayer, and adoration, and those, on the other hand, who emphasize our Christian calling to go out into the world and participate actively in the Church’s mission and ministry. 

 

Today’s Collect suggests, however, that the true relationship between these two emphases is not “either/or” but “both/and.” That is, the light of Christ cannot truly shine forth in our lives unless it’s first enkindled in our hearts. But conversely, with our hearts thus warmed, we can’t help wanting to let the light of Christ shine forth by words of encouragement, acts of kindness, works of mercy, and lives of service.

 

Above all, we remember that Jesus Christ, the Word Incarnate, is the only source of true light, warmth, and life. As today’s Gospel says of Saint John the Baptist, we are not that light, but we’re sent to bear witness to that light. And so, during this twelve-day season of Christmas, we might profitably meditate on that Collect, and then reflect on what steps we might take now to invite Christ into our hearts, so that he may set us on fire, making our lives a beacon of his light and love to a cold and darkened world.