Jesus, the Christmas Light

Luke 1:78-79

[T]he Rising Sun will come to us from heaven
to shine on those living in darkness
   and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the path of peace.

The season of Advent is upon us once again. We prepare to receive the Light of the World, Jesus Christ, into our lives and to announce his coming to a world in darkness. It is no coincidence that the Church in the 4th century chose December 25 as the day to celebrate Jesus’ birth. The date was significant to the Romans for two reasons: it was the day of natalis solis invicti, the birth of the unconquered sun, and it was also the birthday of Mithras, the Persian “Sun of Righteousness,” a god popular with Roman soldiers. The preoccupation with the Sun during winter, across various cultures, is understandable given that during winter the days grow shorter and the nights grow longer. Couple the brevity of the daylight hours with the leaves falling from the trees, as well as overcast and gloomy skies, and people began to fear that the Sun was dying. The Aztecs, during the five days prior to the winter solstice — the shortest days of the year — would talk in whispers and walk without making a sound for fear of upsetting their Sun god Huitzilopochtli, who might very well leave never to return, leaving them in perpetual darkness. According to the mythology of many of these cultures, the Sun eventually rises again or returns to the people, bringing life-giving light and causing the crops to grow once more. There is a darkness deeper than night, a darkness that the warm Sun that greets humanity every morning can never dispel. It is the darkness of hearts overwhelmed with guilt and sin, of minds lacking in meaning and purpose, of relationships lacking in communion and love. And so to make the point of the significance of Jesus the early Church chose December 25 to celebrate His birth: Jesus is the “Sun” whose glory outshines every star and whose Light illumines every human being and brings life-giving power to every heart that welcomes Him. As you and yours hang Christmas lights on the roof or on your tree remind one another that Jesus is “The light [that] shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). We can rejoice and have hope because the Jesus, the Rising Sun, has come and the darkness will be gone.

Why Be Moral?

Why be moral? That is a question that philosophers and theologians have pondered from time immemorial. Within Christian circles, some have used the terrors of hell to motivate people to live moral lives while others have appealed to the prospect of heavenly rewards. But either of these two options fails to grasp the nature of God and our relationship to Him.

The former view, which uses fear to move people to moral actions, conceives of God as a divine judge. God here is a monstrous ogre who delights in casting people into burning lakes of fire for any breach of His laws (as these laws are (mis-)understood by believers in this fearsome God). According to some who hold this view God will send you to hell for having a glass of wine with a meal or for dancing a waltz with your spouse.

The other view, which uses rewards as motivation for morality sees God as a divine carnival booth attendant: if you get it right three times, you win the overstuffed Panda bear. Keep doing the right thing and you win heaven in the end.

What both viewpoints misunderstand is that our moral action is to be a response motivated by love. In a relationship of love there is neither the fear of judgment nor the hope of reward; one does what is right out of love and respect for the other. So for example in the marriage relationship, each partner is faithful to the other, not because either is afraid of being beaten by the other, nor because each hopes that the other will get him/her a nice piece of jewelry. Instead each does the right thing (fidelity) because each loves the other and so wants to honor and respect him or her. Or take the parent/child relationship. The ideal is that a child obeys his father not because he is terrified of a “whippin'” nor because he hopes his obedience will get him another toy, but because he truly loves and respects his father.

There is a famous poem (which I only know in Spanish) attributed to St. Francis Xavier, which says something like this: “It is not the promised heaven that moves me to love you, O God; neither is it the fearsome hell. It is You who moves me, O God, You and You alone.” God wants us to do the right thing simply out of love for Him; not because we are terrified of being punished, nor because we think we can manipulate Him. Any other motivation traps us in a psychological game that does not enable us to find real joy and fulfillment in our relationship with God and others. Love must be the motivation of all morality.