Watch, Pray, Shine: Christmas Candlelight

 Candlelight in Bundibugyo in 2024 flickers more from necessity than for atmosphere. The rotting power poles in this tropical rainforest mean the entire national grid connection, which is less than 15 years old, already fails regularly, so the power company has decided to shut down transmission all day every MWF to work on pole replacement. This has been happening for the last month or two. Since we had only solar panels for limited lights and computers for the first couple decades, we're not totally unprepared. . . .but no extra Christmas lights this year as we've become spoiled by more appliances and higher expectations.  A long digression to explain that candlelight it not just a quaint metaphor, it's a living picture.

So when Director Patrick returned to Bundibugyo this week for a few days of staff enrichment, fellowship, consultation, leadership and encouragement, and asked me to start off his Monday seminar with a devotion, I chose the image of candlelight. It's the first week of Advent after all, and John 1 talks about the light shining in darkness as he begins the story of Jesus' coming. 

End of Year CSB staff seminar 

The candle illustration

The previous post, Christmas Apocalypse,  alluded to second coming teachings of Jesus which are also part of Advent, lightening and signs in the skies which call for a posture of faith in times of cataclysm. Times of waiting. Times of change. Times like this. 

So today, the Christmas Candle as a picture of how we live by faith in the midst of dark uncertainty. 

That's a challenge for Christ School staff (never enough money, materials, supplies, time), just as it is for all the plodding workers in our Serge Area. We know that multiple times a day every day, we all feel like today's lectionary reading: Jesus is asleep in the dark tossing boat of our lives, and we just might go overboard into the sea. I imagine those waking him up lighting a candle, and hear his rebuke, why are you fearful? Darkness and chaos are no match for Jesus' calm. Instead of panic, He calls us to watch, pray, shine.

A candle allows us to watch, a frequent admonition to God's people. Watch. Look. Notice. Lighting up reality leads to both lament and thankfulness, gratitude and grief. We pay attention to the world's broken edges, to the sorrows, to the storms. And we also pay attention to the subtle signs of God's presence. Alertness is a perquisite for praise. So we hold our flickering candle ahead to see the terrain, to understand our calling. To be present, engaged, awake.

The word watch in these Advent passages is frequently paired with pray. Watch and pray. And in the tabernacle, the temple, and the word images of other dimensions, the fragrant flame, the rising smoke, symbolizes our prayers. The candle reminds us that we are not alone in this terrain, that we have a Heavenly companion who cares. Our lament and our gratitude both have a direction, a listener.

Lastly a candle in Jesus' illustrations shines. People see the light, and find hope. It is a beacon to find one's way home, a lamp that should not be hidden under a bushel. We pay attention to the real world around us, we commit all we see to prayer, and then we act. Shining little lights, making small things a little better. Bearing testimony to the great light that is driving out all darkness.

Final prayer walk of the year

The candlelight of Bundibugyo: CSB staff

A candle in the wind was a song in my growing-up days, and alludes to the truth that those who do watch and pray and shine sometimes are taken from us too soon. Yesterday, when I sat down to start writing this post, was the 17th anniversary of losing Dr. Jonah Kule to Ebola Bundibugyo, a then-new variant of the deadly virus that surfaced here in 2007. He modelled walking by faith into dark uncertainty as well as anyone, a thoughtful and insightful observer of culture and community, a prayerful person of courage, a doctor who worked in spite of steep barriers to care for the poorest. 

In 2024, we feel pummelled by the injustice we struggle through every day. But Advent is a season to remember that the darkness is where we belong, that in the storm Jesus cares even in sleep to preserve us. We watch and pray, and hope to shine. (Bonus post here from Center for Formation, Justice, and Peace).

Christmas Apocalypse

 Apocalypse comes to us via Latin "revelation, disclosure" from Greek "to uncover, reveal". . . but in 2024, the connotation of a world-ending cataclysm layers our perception of the term. And no wonder. Apocalyptic days have moved from movies to the newsreels. Sometimes it's not clear if one has stumbled upon CNN or a cinematic tragedy, as we see a people group decimated (in the literal sense, losing 10% of the population) in Gaza or Sudan, or the posturing threats of annihilating nuclear weapons in Russia or North Korea aiming at Ukraine. 

On a small personal scale, we are ready to turn from November to December today. The last month+ seems to have stacked more conflict, more tears, more discouragement, more misunderstanding, more defeat in our sphere than should be possible. Both cross-culturally and within our work responsibility, I can't remember another stretch with SO MANY hours of meeting to listen and discern and grieve and struggle forward. From couples in hurting marriages to teams at loss for how to draw good out of scarcity to colleagues missing each others's hearts to credible suspicions of skimming funds or failing jobs, to unjust unexpected tax and documentation demands. . . each day has seemed to boil up in a new crisis that has significant implications, but goes unsolved and then overshadowed by the next. Not to mention the roiling politics and church of our home country this Fall. 

Today begins Advent, and it turns out that the traditional readings for this first Sunday and first day of December are from Luke 21, and Matthew 24. Jesus, who habitually collapsed timeline gaps in the foreign territory of being time-bound, stood with his people in the last days of his life and talked quite a bit about why he came, but also about coming again. Advent is a season to ponder the first coming, and whet our appetites for the second. And those passages DO sound apocalyptic in the cosmic sense of dramatic signs, and in the sobering sense of inescapable tragedy. 

Not so much in those Bible chapters about baking or decorating, about warm gatherings and luxurious gifts. The primary word is "watch". Be alert. When the world spasms in wars and earthquakes and meteors and hunger and floods, remember the story. 

The story of Christmas Apocalypse, in all senses of the word. God revealing God-ness in human flesh, a new living entity that discloses a nature of mercy and truth, of love and justice, of transcendence and presence meeting in a baby. A Christmas uncovering, revealing the framework of a bigger story of the world, one that overcomes evil in apparent defeat, one that passes through the messy danger of birth to the cross and the grave, but ends in glory. A Christmas cataclysm, history's inflection point, set in motion.

Watching forms the essential prerequisite to thanks-giving. Giving thanks that even in this month, this year, of desolations, God's Spirit quietly transforms. We've also seen relational and physical healing, generous funding, a miraculous visa, a massive tax relief, genuine kindness, solid reasons to hope.

This year, let's start Advent right where we are. It is into the darkness that the light shines. It is into the reality of Palestine then and now that Jesus comes. It is into our own struggling, hurting hearts that the assurance pours: watch and pray, be found faithfully serving, by endurance possess your souls. Hold on through Advent 2024. Christmas is coming.

The light filters through the clouds of our life.

And sometimes that sorrow refracts to beauty.

Frederick Buechner, The Magnificent Defeat . . in the fragrant muck and misery and marvel of our world, we experience that God is present.

Picked up Patrick McClure and drove him back to Bundi, former CSB Director and now working with Association of Christian Schools International Kenya branch on our Nairobi team, to pour that serving into our staff this week. And the day before, spent a delightful but strenuous day of we senior types working out better understanding and collaboration for our junior types . . . Ambassador Ezekiel of the Free Methodist Church in Burundi, with yours truly the Serge East/Central Africa Area Directors. 

Cocoa makes our world go round in Bundibugyo these days . . . just in time for Christmas we have good rains, good harvest, and good prices.

CSB S1,2,3,5 (the continuing classes after the S4.6 seniors finished national exams) on today the final day of the 2024 term! Faculty seated in front. Patrick preaching for chapel this morning below. 

And we leave you with a fun Christmas photo . . the new Kampala thing is for hotels to have a photo spot, so when we met our Burundi partner we couldn't miss the chance to wish you a Merry Christmas.