Let us pray.
Heavenly Father, as we sit these days in darkness, we look
to the advent of Your dear Son, Jesus Christ, as our light. Grant even now your
eternal light to come to us for our salvation on the Last Day. Come, Lord
Jesus. Amen.
The days have grown shorter, and already tonight—even as we
sat to supper—darkness has surrounded us. As we neared the end of this past
church year, we heard every Sunday about the Last Day. Through November, we
watched the trees lose their leaves and become bare. The earth we saw dry and
harden for winter as well. The days even then were growing shorter, but now, in
Advent, we see all the clearer our helplessness in the expanding dark.
And what can we of ourselves do about the darkness? We do
have electricity. And when that fails, we have candles. But even with these
utilities, our sight is limited. And without these utilities, our sight is
gone. Ultimately, we must recognize our dependency upon something. In the
darkness, we are blind. Look outside and walk at this hour, and you will know
your bondage in this dark place. In the dark, you know only yourself. You
cannot long keep track of anyone else. In the dark, you know you are alone. Our
blindness in the dark of night only illustrates a more severe blindness—our
spiritual blindness. As Isaiah speaks to our condition, “We grope for the wall
like the blind; / we grope like those who have no eyes; / we stumble at noon as
in the twilight, among those in full vigor we are like dead men.”
Advent, though, is a time of hope. Amid the mall and outlet
store bustle, we latch onto that true purpose of the season—the Christmas
Child. But how ironic that during this season of hope, our days grow darker and
darker, with darkness increasing even into the day of Christmas itself! This
darkness, these last autumn days—these days of Advent—in which we now walk
demonstrate to us our need for a saving light. Therefore, the growing darkness
as we approach Christmas is not really so ironic. Here, in the night, we grope
desperately for the manger light.
And God does not leave us in the darkness! Nor does He wait
for us to find our own way. No! He brings the light to us! The Light—God
Himself—became man and dwelt among us. “In Him was life, and the life was the
light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not
overcome it.” Again, the glory of God
shone upon the shepherds in the night, as His angel proclaimed His word to
them: “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be
for all the people.” God breaks through
darkness to us in His Son Jesus Christ.
In Christ, God fulfills His promises to His people. As He
spoke through the prophet Isaiah, “I will give you as a covenant for the
people, / a light for the nations, / to open the eyes that are blind, / to
bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, / from the prison those who sit in
darkness.” God continues, saying, “I
will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, / in paths they have not
known I will guide them. / I will turn the darkness before them into light, /
the rough places into level ground. / These are the things I do, / and I do not
forsake them.”
In this way, God Himself brings us into the year of His
favor. Having anointed His Son, Jesus, as the awaited Christ, the Christ
crucified, dead, and buried; raised on the third day from the dead—salvation is
won for us. Of ourselves, we are spiritually destitute, with all courage and
heart plainly broken in the shackles of our dark cells. Now, no longer. No
longer do we rot alive in a dungeon’s darkness. Now, we live, and we live free.
We live in Christ, and we are therefore free from the sin, death, and power of
Satan to which we would otherwise be imprisoned. Now death and darkness in this
world only remind us of Christ Who suffered their sting on our behalf. Now and
forevermore, we live in the eternal year of our Lord, even while we await
Christ’s Second Coming, when the Wedding Feast will begin in all its fullness.
There, with all comfort, the oil of gladness will replace mourning. Heavenly
garments will cover all shame. And we will have the festive adornments of the
wedding of Christ to His Church. The shroud of our darkness will be finally
lifted, as God spoke through Isaiah, “The sun shall be no more your light by
day, / nor for brightness shall the moon give you light; / but the LORD will be
your everlasting light, / and your God will be your glory. / Your sun shall no
more go down, / nor your moon withdraw itself; / for the LORD will be your
everlasting light, / and your days of mourning shall be ended.”
To this end we pray now and always, “Come, Lord Jesus.
Amen.”
May the peace of God which passes all understanding keep
your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Seminarian Nathan Neugebauer
