The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (Prologue to the Gospel of John). Photo by Dan Villani.

Approx. read time: 2:30 min

Epiphany has come and gone. Christmas is pretty much boxed up and returned to the attic.

Yet Epiphany is not so much a date on the calendar, or a story retold, as a revelation of the Divine in the midst of darkness. 

The Light remains, uninterrupted in dark times. The Gospel of John affirms this, right up front.

Another story, though, has been interrupted, briefly. 

The ongoing big story of war, and with it the unquestioned flows of military aid to a global underdog, was interrupted by an unexpected—dare I say suspect—offer of an Orthodox Christmas truce.

Creators of media content don’t know what to do with unwelcome interruptions. The main story is war, the goodies against the baddies, and the delusion that bombing the daylights out of the enemy will lead to peace.

It doesn’t. It leads to death, destruction, the totality of ruthless victory over the vanquished. This is not peace.

So let’s look at this word “interrupt.” It means to cause a break, a rupture, between things, to break the accepted storyline.

Your adversary proposing peace in the midst of war is an interruption, an invitation to incalculable risk.

It may be the slight crack in the wall that lets in the Light. Or, maybe not.

A pure, nonviolent heart—the kind of heart Jesus proposes—will always leave you vulnerable. The offer may be real, or maybe a ruse.

The lights may go out. 

But the Light remains. This was Jesus’ experience, following his death. Resurrection—unexpected new life—is, after all, what we profess.

Light comes. It always will.

But what to do with the Light? What are we doing right now with the Light? What have we been doing with it all along?

The answers are complicated. Life is complicated. Trusting our enemies is unimaginably complicated. 

But trust is what’s asked of us—you and me—as we strive for a life that holds meaning and possibility in a complicated, messy, death-dealing world.

If we take Jesus at his word, we are the Light. He calls us exactly that: “the light of the world” (see Matthew 5:14).

No, no! I want to say. YOU be the light of the world.

But he insists, No, YOU are the light of the world.

Not at some future time, but now. 

Interrupt this program now, the Teacher seems to say, with my subversively divine Light. 

Risk peace. Risk the slow process of trust-building, healing, peace. Risk living true costly Love.

Jesus did. Now he turns to us and says, Follow me.

Your thoughts?

Renew your spirit with my latest inspirational video, The Memo Arrived Today.

Be well. Be Light for the world you touch. Love one another.

If you received this message through a friend, sign up for my Newsletter!