The True Light of Christmas
My childhood memories of Christmas involve darkness and a lot of smoked salmon. Let me explain.
I was born into a Norwegian family and raised in a Lutheran church. Most of the church members were Scandinavian and instilled some of their culture into our celebrations. The Christmas season was special for our congregation. We would gather yearly at the local Sons of Norway hall mid-December as a church (even the Swedes showed up) and eat copious amounts of Lefsa, Krumkake, baked goodies and smoked salmon. We would dance around the Christmas tree in a large circle, holding hands and singing songs in Norwegian (which I still don’t understand), the young children dancing next to some of the senior church members. The sense of the wonder of the season in the faces of my parents’ and grandparents’ generations was not lost on me.
It was always dark when we left, and on the ride home, my family would drive around Prince Rupert to look at the Christmas lights. I cherish the memories of those dark nights.
Christmas was coming. We had much reason to celebrate.
Our church had a spectacular Christmas tree set up in the sanctuary which seemed to my young eyes to be 30 feet tall. Ancient Christian symbols adorned the tree in place of normal ornaments; their significance I would not understand for years to come. Candles were placed in the windows of the sanctuary and tasteful strands of blue lights adorned the tree and arches.
After our Advent services the church would always descend an old, narrow wooden staircase to the basement where we would enjoy a potluck. There was, of course, more smoked salmon. My family would always linger for a few hours with our church family.
We had services on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning back then. Christmas Eve was wondrous to me. I sensed, amid the worship of our congregation, expectation. Anticipation. Joy. The sanctuary lights were off. The lights on the tree and arches were glowing. There were more candles lit. Carols were sung. Scripture was read. The Gospel was proclaimed.
Light within this sanctuary amid the dark Prince Rupert night.
Looking back, I see how important our celebrations were. Christmas takes place when the light of summer days is long past, replaced with the darkness of winter. The lights on our trees, on our homes, in our churches – they are a physical reminder of how amid the darkness of our world, God sent us the true light.
Food is a gift from God. Especially smoked salmon. Feasting is part of our celebrations. Christmas dinners and gatherings remind us that we are the family of God. A family that has every reason to celebrate, for we are preparing for the wedding supper of the Lamb.
It is easy to forget that the celebrations, symbols, and traditions we hold dear at Christmas are meant to point us to something. To someone.
There is meaning behind traditions, behind the familiar.
You string up the lights. You decorate the tree. You wrap the presents. You attend a Christmas Eve service. You enjoy a meal with others. It’s all familiar. Maybe you think – it’s just words and music. Just lights. Just a tree. Just a gift.
We have these familiar traditions to remind us of and point us again to the true meaning of Christmas
In my favourite Christmas special – A Charlie Brown Christmas – Charlie Brown has become depressed at Christmas, feeling that he has lost the joy of the season. Christmas, he feels, has become too commercial.
At a practice for the school’s Christmas pageant, in front of his classmates, he desperately asks if there is anyone who knows what Christmas is all about. His faithful and wise friend Linus steps forward and says to him, “Sure Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about.”
Linus then steps forward onto the stage and calls for the lights to be lowered. A spotlight illuminates the young boy, and he recites the story of Christ’s birth from The Gospel of Luke 2:8-14.
We would do well to listen to the holy words Linus speaks, because we too can forget that Christmas is not about us. It’s not about family, friends or food, lights or presents – it is about the baby born in Bethlehem – it is about Jesus Christ.
It is a dark time of year. God pierced the darkness of our lives with the light of Jesus Christ. Remember that when you see the lights of Christmas illuminating the night.
I don’t know when I will next be able to enjoy smoked salmon. I do know that those Christmas celebrations of my childhood, filled with light and food and the warmth of fellowship of my church family – they have instilled within me anticipation for Christmas and for the return of our Lord.
Darkness and smoked salmon.
The light of the Christ child and the wedding supper of the Lamb.
Let us remember that we have much to celebrate. May you rejoice with family, and with your church. May you eat well and sing with joy… “for unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”
