The Light of the World
By Mary Sorensen
This week we celebrated Christmas, but it also marked the winter solstice. During solstice, we experience extra-long nights and short days thanks to the Earth’s 23.5-degree tilt from the sun. While this tilt preserves our seasons and miraculously creates a perfect “Goldilocks zone” that sustains life on our planet, it also takes us the farthest away possible from the sun, resulting in less daylight and much longer nights.
But this week, we begin to make our journey back toward the light. This week, we start inching our way again through cold and darkness toward Nevada sunshine and warmth, so familiar to us.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about light for another reason: The reason for the season, as they say. Jesus Christ taught, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12 ESV)
Of all the symbols Jesus Christ used to describe himself (the bread of life, living water, the true vine, the good shepherd), his descriptor, “light of the world,” feels most relevant during solstice.
Why light? What does light represent? Security. Direction. Safety. Goodness. Hope. I wonder if that’s why the Savior of Mankind described himself that way: He leads the way through our personal darknesses by giving life through His light.
My husband and I took our kids backpacking for the first time in July. Our girls had actually never even been camping before (aside from summer sleepovers on the trampoline in our backyard), so we thought, why not skip the easy stuff and make them carry their own packs and eat dehydrated food for three days? They loved it.
We hiked through Lamoille Canyon until we made camp near a stunning mountain lake. Our girls were in heaven: catching frogs, wading through streams, and settling into our tents and hammocks.
As the sun started to set and the canyon began to darken that first evening, I noticed my 6-year-old starting to fidget nervously. When my husband lit some wood in our small fire ring, I could visibly see her calm down. Her whole body relaxed when she saw the light. For her, light meant safety in an unfamiliar place. Light meant not having to be scared. For her, light meant warmth, familiarity, and connection.
One of my favorite Christmas hymns was written by Phillips Brooks after traveling through Jerusalem in 1865. He rode on horseback above the town where, as he was told, the shepherds had gathered their sheep. After returning home, he captured his experience through a poem which was later put to music by organist Lewis Redner.
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight
“Yet in the dark streets shineth / The everlasting light.” This is what solstice means to me. This is what Christmas means to me. When I am in a season of darkness, I know the light will return because I know its true source: Jesus Christ. His light is sustaining, unfailing, and constant. He is my brightest hope.
This week we pack away our twinkly decorations until next season, but the true Light of the World has come and will stay with us all year. The light of Jesus Christ shines brightly with us during Christmastime, on through Easter morning, until we are faced with the darkness of winter once again.
His light means the same thing to me as it did for my daughter this summer. His light means safety. His light means love. His light means not having to grope through darkness and unsurety alone. I cast the hopes and fears of all my years on Him, even the Light of the World, Jesus Christ.
Mary Sorensen is the Fallon/Fernley Communication Director, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints”
