Kingdom Come is the Strike of a Match

Each morning before dawn, I walk downstairs, avoiding all the creaks in the floorboards, and I turn on the Christmas tree.

I strike a match and light a candle. I shove back the darkness with a small flame.

One of the first ways we are taught to conceptualize the Gospel is light. Jesus is the light of the world, his Word a lamp unto our feet and light unto our path. The church is a city set upon a hill, a light for all the world to see. Hide it under a bushel? No! 

I have been guilty of paying much more attention to the darkness. Despite growing up in the church, I have become more acquainted with spotting the shadows than watching for the light. The dark is dense, isn't it? Palpable, even. It's grit rubs like sandpaper on raw skin, and it's thickness clings to our skin, sticky.

The shadows seem to greet me more than the sun's rays that make them so visible. Perhaps this year, the darkness is thicker than most of us have experienced in a while, maybe ever. And maybe, this is an invitation to us all.  

This year is a practicum in pushing back the darkness, in participating in the light. The wick of a candle, lights strung upon the eaves of a house, dawn breaking over the horizon—all are pictures of the fight of light. Light will muscle through the darkness. It will push and shove, heave and ho, ignite and explode, and it will require the submission of the dark. The night will always retreat at the sun's first glance. 

I've found that lighting a candle is an invitation I am given, an offer to participate in God's Kingdom come on earth. To strike a match is to testify, to witness. To light a candle, to flip a light switch, is to embody God's call to affront what is dark in the earth. To do this habitually is to practice the conviction that Christ is the light of the world, that he ushered in his Kingdom on earth, and that we are now tasked with the stewardship, care, and continuation of that effort. Heaven on earth is lighting a fire in the hearth. Kingdom come is the strike of a match. 

In Ohio, our nights begin around 4:30pm, and they end around 7:30am, and each day will get darker until the winter solstice. The light of a candle extends the day; it invites the light that I so wish to see to linger a bit longer. In a way, it welcomes the light of the world to his manger and prepares the earth for his coming as our hearts make room for Christmastide.

This is all to say, remember the teachings of your youth. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it—light a candle. Push back the night.