Each December, when people start asking me about the different Christmas Eve services we have here, I get one question more than any others: “But which one has the candles?”
We love fire on Christmas Eve. For a lot of us it just doesn’t feel like Christmas until we light our candles, and raise them up as we sing “Silent Night”.
That makes sense. On Christmas Eve we gather to tell a story that’s been told for about two thousand years now. Through the centuries Christians have told it in words. They’ve told it in song. But, from the very beginning, they’ve also told it in light.
Light is a huge part of the Christmas story. There’s the light of the angels that floods the shepherds’ fields. There’s the light of the star that brings the Wise Men to Bethlehem. And there’s the Gospel of John tells us that, “the light shines in darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it.”
That light, the one we gather around tonight, is the Light of Christ. The baby whose birth we are celebrating would grow to be the very essence of hope, peace, joy, and love.
So while candles are always a nice touch, we can never forget the fact that on Christmas Eve they symbolize something so much bigger than just flame itself. They proclaim that the Light of Christ has once again come into this world.
That’s because Christmas is about more than something that happened in Bethlehem 2,000 years ago. It’s about God’s love that still somehow chooses to come into a broken world. It’s that love that still compels us all to gather here each December 24th, to light these candles.
And I think we do this in part, because we know at some level that light changes everything. It can brighten the longest nights, and banish the most bitter cold. It can make new pathways clear, and it can show us that there is nothing to be afraid of in the dark.
But all of those things can only happen if that light is first allowed to shine.
Right after I first moved here a couple of years ago, I was asked to preach at a nighttime worship service out on Star Island. And if you’ve never been to Star Island, the first thing you need to know is that you can only get there by boat. It’s out in the middle of the ocean, about seven miles off the coast.
There is this old stone chapel on the island, one that gets very cold and dark at night. And the night I was preaching I was told everyone would walk up to the chapel together. But I decided I should go up early to look over my sermon first. And so, I found myself navigating up this rocky path in the dark, and walking into an empty building.
And that’s when I discovered that there is no electricity in the chapel. No light switch. No lights, in fact. Just pitch black darkness.
And, sitting there, with a sermon I could not read, I wondered why no one had thought to tell me about this.
But that’s when the most amazing thing happened. I looked down the rocky path I’d just stumbled up, and I saw a line of people walking. Each one was holding a lantern with a lit candle in it. And as they walked into the chapel, one by one they hung their lantern up on hooks set high in the walls.
By the time everyone was there, the chapel absolutely glowed with light. And the light transformed everything.
What’s true of lanterns is so much more true of the light of Christ. It lights us up in ways that nothing else can, and it changes us. But more importantly, it has the potential to light and to change the whole world. Because of that, it’s important to remember that it was never something for us to keep just for ourselves.
And so, at Christmas, we get to make a decision. Are we going to, as the old song goes, hide our light under a basket? Or are we going to let it shine?
To put it another way, tonight will you just hear the Christmas story? Or will you decide that this year you are going to become a part of it?
Later in the service we will turn down all the lights, and begin to spread the flame from the Christ candle. And when your candle is lit, you’ll be able to see what is right there in your pew. And that will be enough…for you.
But when we begin to sing Silent Night, and we stand up and raise our candles, something will change. Suddenly the flame of your candle will join that of your neighbor’s. And together, our candles will light this entire sanctuary. That’s because when we share our light with the world, and with one another, everything looks different.
This is the moment many of us love best on Christmas Eve. It’s beautiful. But it’s also fleeting. It only lasts a few verses. But the good news is that when we blow our candles out, that feeling doesn’t have to end.
Christmas is not just about seeing the light of Christ. It’s about picking up your light and letting that light live within you. And it’s about lifting it up and shining it for all the world.
The thing about being a follower of Christ is that even when we blow our candles out, people should still be able to see Christ’s light burning within us. Not just once a year, but every day. And in the darkest of times and places, they should be able to see that light burning all the more clearly.
That’s what Christmas is all about. It’s about refusing to give into the hardness and anger and fear of the world. It’s about choosing instead to be a light of compassion, a light of peace, and a light of love. And it’s about letting Christ’s light shine in you, so that the lives of others may be lit by it.
And so, may your candle burn brightly tonight. But may it burn even more brightly tomorrow, and then every single day after. And this Christmas may the light of Christ once again bless us and bless this world. Amen.