Christmas Eve 1983 still holds the record for being the coldest on record in the Texas Hill Country. Where Bud and I lived in San Marcos, the gas for non-residential buildings was cut off to ensure homes could keep warm. Our FUMC building had been without heat for nearly a week.
Along with our sisters and brothers, Bud, my parents, and I bundled up and carried blankets into the sanctuary for the 11 p.m. service. Never had our members sat so close to each other. With red noses and numb feet, we prayed, praised, and welcomed baby Jesus into our world.
When it’s that cold, the atmosphere becomes quiet, stilled. Each bell peal and organ note seemed dulled.
At midnight, the lights were turned out, candles were distributed, and we passed them flame to wick from neighbor to neighbor for our traditional singing of “Silent Night.” Physicists tell us that firelight becomes dim in extreme cold, and so it was that night. As we held the candles in our laps singing the early verses, our candle flames appeared small, barely lighting our individual faces in the freezing darkness. Yet when we stood and raised our candles high
to sing out the last verse, the light in the room swelled to a communal brightness, blessing us with the spiritual warmth of the new birth that we had come to worship.
This is the true meaning of the light of Jesus’ birth. Christ was born not to be the light of the world, but to share God’s light with us, not for us to hold in our individual laps where it can’t be seen but to hold high and share with our cold, dark world (Matt. 5:14; John 1:1-9). This was brought home to me as we held our candles and sang. The candle used at Hannukah to light the others in the menorah is called a shamash. The altar candle used to light our candles was the shamash of the light of Christ symbolically being passed from him to us. As we raised them, our collective light shone in the darkness of that night, and the darkness did not overcome it (John 1:5).
As you celebrate our newborn savior this Christmas and beyond, I pray you will keep your light burning and share your God-given light with all creation.
Grace and peace to you and yours. I will see you next year.
-- Karen Kaigler-Walker
Horizon Texas Conference Spiritual Growth & Soul Care Coordinator

