- As a child, I asked my mother once, while sitting in
the dark staring at the dazzling array of Christmas tree lights illuminating
our living room, "Why do we have all these lights at Christmas?"
My mother was not a particularly religious woman, not the type to quote
scripture or beat someone over the head with anything spiritually heavy.
But this night she stunned me with her response. "They represent the
true light that came into the world, a light that enlightened every man."
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- She said it with such conviction, such deep feeling that
I knew this was something that had truly impressed itself upon her. Above
all the commercialism and churches, above all the culture and classism,
she was enlightened and knew everyone else also benefited, somehow, from
this enlightenment from the 'true light.'
-
- I knew she was speaking of Jesus Christ, but it was not
the Jesus of Sunday school lessons or thus sayeth the King James with all
its dusty, hard to grasp, seemingly antiquated rhetoric. It was a Jesus
that was as alive and vibrant and stunning to the eyes just as all those
countless million lights, beginning in our home and then spreading out
over the snow bleached land in the dark of night like the stars and galaxies
strewn throughout the cosmos; from here to forever. Burning embers, keeping
the darkness at bay, the very source of life.
-
- The one light had become twelve, then several hundred,
then a thousand, then ten thousand, then multiple millions. It was a light
that comforted and consoled even the most stoic heart, and was the beginning
and the ending of all things.
-
- Out of my mothers mouth had come a prophetic utterance
which simply melted away all doubt, all fear and even drowned, to an almost
indiscernible din of cluttered thoughts in the back of my mind, any avariciousness
of toys or expectations of gifts to come the next morning.
-
- She invoked a moment of absolute bliss and understanding.
I heard the voice of God; like Salieri reading the perfect musical notations
of Amadeus, overcome with astounded, complete awareness -- for a brief
moment, my mother was a chosen vessel, an Ark, and God spoke.
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- Hers was a still, small voice.
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- She didn't elaborate beyond that one statement. Even
she felt it when she said it that it was sufficient, self-evident, all-encompassing.
What more is there that could be said? Or explained? This was outside the
realm of explanation. This was perfect light.
-
- This was a fire light in the heart of hearts, connecting
us both instantly to the infinite, immutable and sublime divinity of perfect
love and eternal peace. A thousand pulpits could not contain those words,
neither could ten thousand years of spiritual study ever unravel all of
its meaning. The dew drop slips into the shining sea. The finite merges
with the infinite. My simple, little mother had complete cosmic consciousness
in that moment and it was instantly shared like warmth radiating from a
cracking fireplace. The true light was present, not merely represented
by tiny colored incandescent lamps on strings of wire, but alive, and in
our midst.
-
- "I am with you always," I remembered.
-
- May the true light and the enlightenment He brings illuminate
your hearts and lives, forever. To his glory; to your peace and to a world
we hope will someday soon be fully-enlightened.
-
- Merry Christmas.
- God Bless us all, everyone.
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