As we continue meditating on the Christmas season, it still amazes me just how unlikely it should have been that a little baby born in a small town manger could change the world.
Really … are we still talking about this kid?
Worldwide?
Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the way to the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles, the people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death light has arisen.
In today’s fast-paced world, worldwide trends bubble up quickly – thanks to Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and the like – but then they tend to fade just as fast.
Celebrities get married, have babies or pass away … they become hot topics for a day.
The Pope and presidents make powerful statements … we pay attention, for a while.
Terrorist attacks rock far-away cities … global outrage, prayers for victims and then we move on to the football games.
But this kid, the one born in a manger … created a powerful stir with no help from social media. He grew into a teacher whose words burned into the hearts of those listening … and still listen today.
Bearer of a bright, heavenly light so strong, that it washed away the darkness that had overcome the world.
How is it that we are still talking about this child, this Jesus, more than 2,000 years after he walked the earth? It’s not like he was embraced by the world. In fact, the world rejected him.
Yet, somehow his story became our story. His light transcended the ages so that it could enlighten the darkness of our own lives.
For this, we have the Church to thank. The brave apostles who began spreading the good news of Jesus, the next generation of followers who repeated the stories and the teachings, the writers (inspired by God) who handed down the Scriptures we still read today.
The popes, priests, deacons … husbands, wives, teachers … saints and angels … everyday people. They all had that light inside of them. And they all lived up to their baptismal call to evangelize.
Today we honor St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, the first native born American to be named a saint. A woman who was so deeply moved by her new found Catholic faith, that she dedicated the rest of her life to teaching … to passing on that light.
Hers may have been a radical transformation. Many of our saints are known for this … for making a radical commitment to the Lord, bucking the trends of the day, standing tall against the prevailing winds of the world.
But I think it’s fair to say that despite their greatness, the saints alone could not have kept the light of Christ burning through the ages. Nor could the priests, deacons and popes of the Church be solely responsible.
It took all of us to figure out how best to pass on that light that we received when we were baptized into the faith. From the generously gifted writers, theologians, artists and musicians who inspired millions with their good works, to the humble little families that do nothing more than make sure their kids get up early on Sunday morning to go to Mass.
And so the light continues to shine in the darkness of our world.
Christmas will be over soon, but our ability to give the gift of this light will continue on throughout the coming year.
It may seem simple, but let this be your new year’s resolution. Sing after me …
“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine …”
