A Happy Light in the Lonely Dark (Luke 2:8-20)
A Luke 2:8-20 Sermon
Introduction
I grew up in a very quiet, rural part of Mississippi where most of my family live in 3 adjacent counties, each about 45 minutes to drive across.
Some of my favorite memories are of riding with Mom or Dad in the deep, dark night during this time of year—whether we were visiting family or running errands. The night air would be crisp, the roads empty, and the night sky above us cloudless and vast to my elementary eyes.
But there was always a light ahead. A glow in the distance. As we got closer, it would reveal itself—the brightest Christmas lights a kid could ever dream of. Some would outline houses, wrap around trees, or adorn the azaleas that had shined a few months earlier.
On a particular stretch of Highway 15, between Ingomar and the Pontotoc County water tower, there was this sprawling ranch house. And on that house’s roof were Christmas lights spelling out a bold and bright message: Jesus is the Reason for the Season.
That simple declaration, shining in the dark, felt magical.
And then, the Christmas cards would trickle in.—well-wishes and updates from family and friends. Inevitably one card would feature a visual of the shepherds in the field watching over their flock by night. It seemed so simple, almost plain. Just a group of people in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the dark.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to see that this scene holds a beauty of its own—a beauty that reminds us of how God works and what God wants for the world.
The Beauty of the Dark
Growing up in a rural place, I learned to appreciate the dark. You could step outside and see not just stars but shooting stars, even the Milky Way. Later, when Barb and I lived in Santa Ana, California, that wonder disappeared. The light pollution of Los Angeles and Orange County washed it all out. I’d step out late at night to get a breath of fresh air and look up to see the airplanes descending upon John Wayne Airport and I’d count the stars in the sky for fun – sometimes I’d see 12 and on a very clear night I could see 17.
The shepherds weren’t in a place like Santa Ana. They were in fields where the night wasn’t just a backdrop—it was the world. They lived in the quiet, in the stillness, with only the occasional sound of sheep or the rustle of the wind.
For those of you who’ve worked at night, you might understand what that feels like. I’ve never worked through the night, but I’ve worked jobs that ended at 1 am. By that hour, the world feels spent, all used up. Everyone else is asleep, and it can feel like you’ve been left out of everything that matters.
That’s where the shepherds were. They weren’t part of the big celebrations happening in the city of David. They weren’t surrounded by family or bright lights. They were together, but alone, on the edges, in the dark. In the dark out in the field, no news was good news. And the good news was only spread in the sunshine, never in the dark.
Light Breaks Through: The Angels and the Shepherds
And it was in the dark, in that taken-for-granted space, that the angel appeared with a single surprising light that turned their night into day as the glory of God surrounded them. Can you imagine what that must have felt like? Do you think it felt like how it feels when you’re driving and someone has their brights on?
In a twinkle of an eye, in that field, in that dark, the ordinary became extra.
And listen to this important detail. The angel’s message wasn’t just about the birth of a Savior; it was about who that Savior came for. The angels didn’t go to the palace or the temple. The first announcement of Jesus’ birth was to shepherds—outsiders, people on the edge, those who very well might have felt left out of it all.
The message to the shepherds was a message to: “I bring you good news of great joy for all people.”
All the people. Not just those we might think are on the inside. Not just the religiously experienced. Not just those who seem to be good examples or have it all buttoned up nicely.
A Beautiful Reminder
The angels appeared to the shepherds—ordinary people on the edges. And yet, they were the ones chosen to receive this extraordinary news. This reminds us that the good news of Jesus finds people where they are and invites them into something greater.
This truth came to mind during a recent membership conversation with two people considering joining our church. For anyone curious about what that process looks like, it’s not complicated or intimidating. We simply sit down together, share our stories, and reflect on life and faith. Here are some of the questions we ask:
· Tell us about your family and childhood. Did you grow up going to church?
· When did God become more than a word for you?
· What brought you to our church, and what’s keeping you here?
We also talk about gifts and passions—ways they might serve God by serving others in the congregation. It’s always beautiful and meaningful.
What stands out in every story is this: someone brought them the message. A messenger—sometimes a friend, a family member, or someone they met in this church—shared the love of God or the good news with them. Angels are messengers. That is the literal definition of the word angel – they are messengers of God’s will and God’s news on heaven and earth. And every person who invites someone into the love of Christ is carrying on that same role.
For these new members, the good news found them. It found you. Aren’t you happy about that? I’m so glad my grandmother didn’t stop talking to me about Jesus. She was an angel in that way. I’m so happy my teenage friends didn’t stop inviting me to church and youth group. They were angels.
Outsiders Go In
I’ve noticed another thread in our stories. Though appearances may say otherwise, we often feel disconnected from God, from others, and from the deepest part of ourselves. We view others as being in, comfortable, and together.
Every one of us knows what it’s like to feel like an outsider. Maybe you’ve felt left out in a group, uncertain of where you fit. Maybe you’ve doubted your faith or yourself. Maybe you felt like you didn’t know enough to belong.
Jesus’ birth made it clear that no one is too far out, unworthy, lost, forgotten, or forsaken.
The beauty of the Church is that Jesus brings us all in from the lonely dark.
That’s why there is a deeply embedded value in this congregation that our church should be a place where everyone feels welcome—where kindness, love, and acceptance make room for people to move closer to Christ. Wherever they start, wherever they are, and wherever they end up, they belong with us. Truly, Jesus is the reason!
We are angels, we are the messengers in a dark world that pushes people apart. We, according to Jesus, are the light that shines in the lives of others which causes them to praise God in heaven. Surely the people living in darkness have seen a great light. It is the light of God’s love that shines through our love for others.
Light for All
The Christmas lights of my childhood didn’t just shine in the dark—they changed the way the night felt. The angel’s message to the shepherds does the same thing. It reminds us that even when we feel like we’re on the outside, the light of Christ makes us part of something greater.
So this morning, as the three candles burn, think about that field, that night sky, and those shepherds, and remember this: the good news of Jesus is for you. You belong, not because of what you’ve done but because you are and because of what God has done.
And just like the shepherds, when they saw the light and heard the message, they had to worship and tell others. You can’t help but share it. Who in your life needs to hear the angels’ message? Who can you invite into this story of belonging and love.
This season is the perfect time to invite people, people you know who are spiritually hungry and searching. Invite them to next Sunday and one of the Christmas Eve services.
Let’s be messengers of the good news—“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom God favors.” Jesus is the reason! So, go be a happy light in the lonely dark. Be an angel
