Christmas at 64

By Greg Morgan

Quakers speak often about the Light.  One particular Quaker, yours truly, cried his way through last night’s Christmas Eve meeting for worship, as I always do.  This year …

I cried tears of sadness, for the darkness in the world around me, near and far.  I cried tears of joy that on this night we celebrate a Light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never overcome it.

I cried tears of joy for the seeds of faith that were planted in me in my youth.  I cried tears of sadness for the shame I felt for years in expressing this faith, until the darkness almost overcame it.  Still, the Light persisted …

I cried tears of joy that God so loved the world as to make a home among us, to help us see the Light within us, full of grace and truth.  I cried tears of sadness for how often I still fail to see this Light.

I cried tears of joy to be in a community of those who celebrate this Light of all life.  I cried tears of sadness at how distant this Light still feels for so many.

I cried tears of joy for the many relationships that help me feel like a child of God on this night.  I cried tears of sadness for so many who feel unloved and abandoned.

I cried tears of joy for the work of sharing my piece of the Light with those who seek it, and for the gift of receiving the Light they share with me, whether they know it or not.  I cried tears of sadness that the need of the world for the Light is so great, and my piece of the Light is still so small.

And yet, my tears tell me, the Light shines in the darkness, and that Light is full of grace and truth.