Baxter loves the sunshine. When we have a warm spring day, he stretches out wherever he can find a beam of light shining through the window. I guess it’s his version of a tanning salon. When I touch him in this relaxed pose, his body is warm, but he doesn’t seem to mind it. He soaks in the rays, and lies there content in a stupor without a care in the world. Even the birds flying and hopping about outside won’t distract him from this state of peace and quiet. Although he can stay in the sunlight for hours, Baxter never gets a tan. He just absorbs the warmth and drifts off in its comfort.
Many of us are sun worshipers. Not literally, of course, but we are attracted to the warmth and light that comes to us from our closest star. Sunlight lifts our spirits. Its heat seems to have restorative power on aching muscles and creaking joints. And the ultraviolet rays turn our skin into bronze coverings that we love to show off and admire—despite the dermatologists’ protests. Something about the light calls us to take it in, enjoy it, and even wear it. We seem to be made for it.
We are made for the Light of Christ. God’s first words of creation were, “Let there be light,” and from this primordial light came life, reaching its pinnacle in the creation of humankind. But we weren’t satisfied with God’s light. We tried to extinguish it with our sin. Our pride wouldn’t allow us to accept the light as a gift from God to flourish as human beings. We wanted to control it, pick and choose the fruitfulness it gave us, and eventually hide from it to escape God’s presence. We led ourselves into darkness by our own devices, and deceived ourselves that this darkness was truly light. We distorted God’s original intent in creation.
But God would not leave us in this sorry state. Slowly, carefully, from generation to generation, He turned us back to the true light until, in the fullness of time, it shone on humanity, beaten and battered by sin and death, with the warmth of divine love and forgiveness. The darkness that came over Calvary represented the last stand of evil to conquer creation, and Christ defeated this darkness by His death on the cross. The cross shatters the power of evil to cloud our judgment, weaken our wills, and shape our desires to prefer darkness to light. It leads to the light of the Risen Lord which can never be extinguished.
The paschal candle is our sign of this light. It is lit at the Easter Vigil and burns through the Easter season. It lights the way to new life at the beginning and the end of our earthly existence, as we celebrate baptisms and funerals throughout the year. It is a light unlike all the others in the church--tall, strong, beautiful and constant—just like the Christ it represents to us. Its warmth doesn’t come from its physical fire, but from the fire of love this symbol is meant to inspire in each of us as Christ’s disciples. “Light of Christ” is proclaimed in the darkness of the entrance procession of the Easter Vigil liturgy. Once heard, this message is to continue through us, not wearing it like a suntan but living it through our character. Humble, generous, compassionate, forgiving, joyful people who serve others in their need reflect the light of Christ wherever they are.
Light-up night for us isn’t the beginning of the Christmas shopping season. It is the beginning of the Easter season. As the Christian faithful who celebrate this season, we need to take a cue from Baxter. Seek out the light. Soak in its warmth. Don’t worry about getting a tan, but worry about carrying the warmth with you. This is the light of God’s love which can never be extinguished. We are its witnesses and messengers. Alleluia, Alleluia!
