This time of year in Northern California, the days have grown shorter. Darkness descends early and lingers longer. The winter sun is weak, its slanted light creates gauzy shadows through the barren trees. Forgotten is the fierce noonday sun of summer when the light was too intense to behold.
On this last Sunday of Advent, and the eve of Christmas, I am reminded of a line from a poem by Emily Dickinson, Tell all the truth but tell it slant. For today, the Christian Church holds the tension of darkness and light, waiting and anticipation. We’ve been waiting in the darkness of winter for the Son to come and lighten our world with His Joyous Light of Glory. And yet, we celebrate the coming of The Christ Child with a sideways glance. For in our human frailty, the immensity of God’s Light, His Presence, is too dazzling for us. So, God shields our eyes. He wraps His Truth in the flesh and blood of a vulnerable, tiny infant. He incarnates Himself–puts on human flesh– so our eyes might behold Him.
Jesus, The Word made flesh, comes to us this shadowy day, bringing Truth wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger (Luke 2:12). Oh, come let us adore Him.
Merry Christmas and Always Mercy,
Pamela
