In the Darkness

Why are so many people eager to attend church on Christmas Eve? Is it that they have the chance to be the first ones to say "Merry Christmas," or is it... perhaps... something more?

During this Advent season, I have been using some of our holiday traditions as a springboard for considering the deeper meanings of Christmas. On the first Sunday, decorations reminded us that Advent is an “already… not yet” season. Although Christ was born over 2,000 years ago, God’s kingdom is not yet fully here. On the second Sunday, Santa Claus showed up, together with his European sidekick Schmutzli. That led to the question, “What kind of Messiah are we expecting?” Last week, we talked about connecting with others at this time of year; and realized that while we may send Christmas cards, God connected with us by coming in the flesh. Today, as Christmas is almost here, I want to think about Midnight Mass, the traditional Christmas Eve worship service.

Midnight Mass, of course, is for our Roman Catholic sisters and brothers; but late-night worship on Christmas Eve is celebrated by Protestant and Roman Catholic alike. Many Christmas Eve services begin at 11:00 p.m. and end just in time for worshipers to wish each other “Merry Christmas” in the wee hours of Christmas morning. I used to be a member of a large church in Philadelphia that promised “at midnight, we will be in prayer.” The pastor of that congregation was a formidable man, a Scotsman who was a force to be reckoned with. We used to joke that if midnight arrived and the service was running late, God would stop the clock so that the pastor could keep his promise! Even congregations who don’t worship that late on Christmas Eve hold services in the evening. Oh, sure, there are the occasional family services that are held in the late afternoon; but even the churches who offer those usually worship again at 7:30 or 8:00 so that grown-ups can gather without the kiddies.

What lies behind this fascination with worship services on Christmas Eve night? After all, it’s a terribly inconvenient time to attend worship. One would think that worship on Christmas morning would be much more popular since it doesn’t involve leaving a warm, cozy home and traveling to church in the dark. And yet, Christmas Eve worship is the frequently the most well-attended service of the entire year! What brings worshipers out at such a late hour in weather that is frequently nasty to sing Christmas carols that they’ve been hearing on the radio for over a month? I think that the attraction of Christmas Eve service goes much deeper than just the opportunity to be one of the first to say “Merry Christmas” to fellow worshipers at midnight. I think that gathering in the night to worship embodies what Christmas is really all about: God comes to us when we need him the most, in the darkness of midnight. We don’t usually yearn for God at noon. When the light is shining brightly, we can see our way; and we have confidence that we can control things – at least, to some extent. But in the dark, we’re blind. We don’t have a clue what might be lurking around the next corner – or standing right next to us, for that matter. In the dark of midnight, we yearn for a Savior and most need to see the light that he brings.

One of my clergy colleagues recently bought a house. It’s the first one that she has ever owned. She has had a wonderful time decorating it exactly the way that she wants it – new paint, new furniture, and new decorations. Especially new decorations! She has adorned that house for the Christmas seasons with yards and yards of twinkling lights that are set on a timer. When she comes home from an evening church meeting, the lights greet her as she steps out of her car. But one evening last week when she pulled up in front of her house, the lights weren’t on. Had there been a power failure? Did a circuit breaker overload? She even wondered briefly if someone had turned the lights off on purpose and was waiting inside her dark house. We all know the kinds of things that run through our minds in the dark. It turned out that a plug had merely worked its way out of the socket; and it was a very simple matter to get the lights back on. But her reaction was… well… illuminating (pun intended). When she was greeted not by comforting lights but by the cold dark, she was frightened.

Isn’t that that the way that we feel, too, when our world is plunged into darkness? Imagine that you are on a cave tour, deep underground. In the midst of admiring the fairyland of stalactites and stalagmites, the lights go out. But this is not a planned presentation by the park ranger. This is a real emergency. There is no light anywhere. As much as you strain your eyes, there is only darkness. What thoughts run through your mind? How long will it be dark? How will you find your way out? Will you ever find your way out? That kind of fearsome darkness isn’t always physical, either. Ignorance, the darkness of the mind; depression, the darkness of the spirit; and loneliness, the darkness of the soul – all these can be just as terrifying as physical blackness. But these are precisely the situations in which God comes to us bringing the light of a Savior.

You probably never noticed this detail, but the Bible never tells us that Jesus was born at night. All that it says is that when Mary and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem, there was no room for them in the inn; so Mary gave birth to Jesus in a barn. The first that we hear of the night is when the angels proclaim the good news to the shepherds. For all we know, Jesus was born at 2:30 in the afternoon! But in the end, that really doesn’t matter. The good news of the Savior comes to the shepherds at night; and that’s the way that the good news always comes to us, bursting into our lives when they are the darkest: when a relationship has ended, when illness has imposed a new reality on our routine, or when we are so depressed by the evening news that we want to curl up into a ball and pull the covers over our heads. Christ brings his light to us in the dark; because that’s when we need it the most.

In just about a week, we will gather on Christmas Eve when the world is dark. We will rejoice together at the birth of a Savior; and we remember the story through scripture, music, and prayer. And then, a single candle will be lighted. As many other candles are lighted, the light that was begun by that one candle will grow until it fills the sanctuary! God promises that the light of the Savior will one day fill a dark world in the very same way. “For unto you is born a savior, which is Christ the Lord.” Glory to God in the highest! The Light has come at last!