Those December days when the darkness lengthens. When the world never quite seems to wake up. Cloud upon cloud upon cloud. Endless grey and then, you spot them. One house then another. A tree, a lighted reindeer. Until the streets dance with light, on the dullest December day.
I do love them, but they have always seemed a little odd. We put lights outside our house and then go inside, close the curtains and have another mince pie. Oblivious to the spectacle we have created outside. Christmas lights in the gardens and windows of houses are the most other centred behaviour in this self-centred culture and season. Lights are the one thing that we do each year that is almost entirely for our neighbour. It is a generous act, that says, this darkness will not have the last word. It is an act of rebellion against selfishness. It requires the sacrifice of time and electricity for the benefit of others. Beyond a glimpse, as we rush inside, laden down with shopping bags, we scarcely see the lights on the outside of our homes.
Could it be that this, our first sign of Christmas, is the closest to the real meaning of Christmas that we will explore on our journey? A light in the darkness. A light in the darkness, entirely for the sake of others. A light in the darkness, to prove that darkness will end; all the darkness that there ever was will be swallowed by light. Put your lights up with fresh abandon this year. Brighten the day for someone else and look for space to be like a light everywhere you go this season.
Thank you.
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