Sometimes things hit me a little differently as I get older. Candlelight Services have always been a tradition no matter what church I’ve attended but tonight, as I was in the upper deck at Trinity, I got a different view than the one I’m used to. Like for many people, experiences with Christians have been a mixed bag. They are some of the meanest/nicest, cruel/kind, selfish/generous, arrogant/humble people I have known. But no matter the darkness that may be in each of us who claim Christ as Lord, there is a light that persists even against our worldly nature. This same nature that proves so hard to cast off at times takes a front seat in many of our interactions, but then there’s this light.

Tonight I looked down and watched as hundreds of people who once were in darkness had a small flame passed to them by their neighbor. And slowly, it filled the room. The house lights were shut off but I could hardly tell. For the moment, everyone was free from darkness and were joined in singing Silent Night. This light they carried was a candle, but as we celebrated our Savior’s birth it stood, like the star, for His presence in our lives. This light, not glowing from anything we’ve done, not because of our status or background, but for our present and our future, shines to give us a hope not attached to anything here. This light, when held aloft as our identity, our soul source of joy and peace, spreads, for each one of us has a wick.

At one point we shared an identity greater than our own, greater than anything that can be done by a crowd of any size. We were sharing in the joy of the magi, the fulfillment of the prophets, the worship of angelic hosts and as a result, all our darkness was as chaff. This light, this small candle began to represent for me something much more than a stick of wax with some string in it, it was Jesus in us shining His light to this darkened world regardless of our darkened selves. We become illumined not because of us, but because we agreed to believe that He came for us.

What would it be like to live humbly knowing that our achievements here, no matter how great, will always pale in comparison to what has been done for us and the greatest thing we could ever do is acknowledge it?

The moment passed and it was time to blow out our candles. On the count of three we did. It was startling how drastic the darkness was, and without that small flame, that is all we will ever have. This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine… hide it under a bushel, no! Won’t let Satan pff it out… I’m gonna let it shine.

God bless,
Merry Christmas,

Brian

This evening was an experience I won’t soon forget. I had the opportunity to help give food out to some of the refugees living in Lansing through Mount Hope Ministries. I got connected with it through a friend of mine, Don Benson owner of Vinaigrettes, a local restaurant and attender of Mount Hope Church. Both Don and his wife Lisa, along with their son Peter and his wife Debbie go out every Tuesday to two sites: one a refugee apartment complex and the other a corner lot where some homeless people dwell.

Tonight, those sites converged as they handed out hot meals, bags of produce, and brought a bus full of hats gloves and shoes. It was an intense experience as people from all over the world pushed through hastily organized lines to get their gifts. There was so much food they began to give it out by the box. There was a small semblance of order for most of the adults listened as we tried to get everyone what they needed.

After every bag of food we would tell them Jesus loves them and to have a Merry Christmas. I eventually got into the flow of things offering blessings and food to everyone around me, then there was Cora, a 50 something year old woman who stood there looking at me muttering something. I leaned over to hear her better and all I heard was “I’m pathetic, I’m homeless…” The blessings I offered her seemed to lack tangibility so I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and prayed for her. She began to shake from crying, I held on and continued to pray. She eventually calmed down as the Spirit did His work within her. I don’t know what all was done but there was transformation. I wanted to get her to Peter or Debbie because I’m the new guy and didn’t know all that could be done for Cora at that time and place.

I was eager to give her something, I turned around and saw a stockpile of food sitting in the middle of the parking lot. I assumed that it was more of the food we were giving out but I didn’t know it already belonged to someone. I picked up a bag and handed it to Cora, then a large African woman bustled up to me and pointed at the bag then at herself. I asked her if it was her’s and another woman who spoke a little English said it was. When I took the bag from Cora and handed it back to the lady another transformation happened, but not a good one. Cora, not a small woman herself, stood rigid and demanded the bag of food back. It was fierce and it was all my fault. I thought there was going to be a brawl between these two women as I tried to calm Cora down and explain my mistake. Cora shrugged me off as if I were a fly and began threatening all around her as more Africans gathered. I called out to one gentleman she offended, “Merry Christmas! Keep walking.” Thankfully Debbie found another bag of broccoli which I quickly gave to Cora to pacify the quickly deteriorating situation. That did the trick for as soon as Cora calmed again, everyone broke up and went their separate ways.

We got a couple plates together of warm food for Cora to take to her family. I didn’t see her again after that but hope that in some small way she got a chance to meet Jesus and see that He cares for her no matter how pathetic we are or can be. And I’ll try to find an unclaimed bag of food before I give it away next time.

Merry Christmas everyone,
Brian