New Light

I am not dead. I realize that the last time I updated this blog was back in September. Not a good track record for someone who had the goal of doing weekly updates in 2020, but then a few things have happened this year. A few things...

I did something I've never done before back in October (and no, I didn't eat broccoli on a stick, or anything)--I took a week's vacation. In 36 years of ministry, I have taken time off in the "lazy days" of Summer, at some point, and the past few years, have taken most of the month of August off. This year, though, with the kind permission and coverage of my pastoral colleagues, I took a week in October, and Dara and I stayed in the keeper's house of the Cove Point Light near Lusby, Maryland. Dara likes lighthouses, and I have to admit, they hold a certain fascination for me as well, so when I found one that you could stay at, I got online and booked  it. I'm always trying to find something out of the ordinary that will "wow" Dara, as she "wows" me, just for who she is. A few years ago, I booked us into a few nights at a Frank Lloyd Wright-designed house near Cleveland, over her July 4 birthday. The Cove Point stay was another attempt to thrill her, and it worked pretty well.

Cove Point Light is a working lighthouse on a peninsula overlooking the Chesapeake Bay. It is the oldest lighthouse in Maryland. A local historical preservation non-profit has restored the keeper's house, put in some modern conveniences, and rents it out. We went in October for three reasons: we're not "sun" people, so the moderate weather of October is about perfect for us; it was half the booking price from the Summer prime season (still expensive, but I didn't have to sell a kidney to afford it); and if you want to book it during the Summer season, you probably can't get in until 2023--it's that popular. (Having told some St. Paul's folk about it, a couple have tried to book it even in the OFF season, only to find that it has become VERY popular, and unavailable for at least a couple of years.)

In the off season, they give you a code for the huge electronic gate that secludes the peninsula, and you really have the place to yourself. There is a private "walking beach" (no swimming because of huge riptides), a great screened-in porch, which we made great use of, and a wonderful kitchen for preparing meals--quite handy, given COVID restrictions on what would have otherwise been some enticing local restaurants. (We DID order takeout our last night there from a local "soul food" restaurant run by a couple of African American sisters, and WOW, was that food INCREDIBLE!) Just sitting on that porch (or on the beach) reading and watching Chesapeake Bay boat traffic was wonderfully therapeutic.

This introduction to my central point in this reflection may be the longest one you will ever read. Here's what I really wanted to share, as we are in the throes of Advent...

Above is a photo I took of two lights, both very, very old. The kerosene lantern still works, and provides a subtle light in a dark room. The oldest lighthouse in Maryland still beams its guidance out into the bay, behind it. Both are faithful lights that chase out enough darkness that people like Abraham Lincoln could get his education by a kerosene lantern similar to this one, and small crab boats and giant sea-going tankers could be safely guided into the Chesapeake. They may be old, but light is light! No matter the form, fuel, or luster, it drives out darkness.

In this Advent season, we look forward to the coming of the Light of the World--Jesus, the Christ of God. Jesus is both an old and a NEW light. Ancient, in human time is the story of Christ's birth, along with the Gospel's promise that Christ would be "the light of humanity," and that the darkness he would drive out would NOT overcome this light. The NEW light of Christ is that which shines fresh and new each Advent and Christmas season when we open our hearts to the Good News once again, and allow the timeless message to drive out our personal "darkness." Advent is also a time we pray for and "expect" God's Realm to break into our world, as it fights the darkness that seems always to be trying to "overcome" it. This year,  it is COVID-19 and a divided nation, both of which bring a pall of fear. Is there anything more "dark" than fear, especially when that fear seems to be gaining in intensity, rather than abating? 

Friends, like the light of these ancient lights above, the eternal light of Jesus Christ can still drive out the darkness from the "room" of our personal lives, and that same beacon can provide guidance and direction to our future, guarding us from the threatening rocks and the crashing waves. 

May the newness of Christ's presence keep you safe and well, as we approach the end of a tumultuous year, and may that strong beacon of the "Spirit of Jesus" help you navigate the unsure waters of the coming new year. 

And just in case I "go quiet" again, due to the continuing challenges of being a pastor during a pandemic, we pray you will have a Merry Christmas, even in the shifting tides, a Happy New Year, and find time for a blessed respite from the storms of life. Peace on Earth, goodwill toward Yinz!