Christmas is a time of traditions. Regardless of religious affiliation, or lack thereof, I imagine most families have things they do every year during the holiday season. Activities they do, foods they eat, places they go. They often bring back sweet memories as you remember christmases past, and bittersweet as you think of those who are not here to celebrate with you anymore. One of my favorite christmas traditions is attending the Christmas Eve Carol and Candlelight service at my church.
Some of my fondest memories are those from my childhood. I grew up attending a large Baptist church in Cary, NC. The Christmas Eve service was one of the most beautiful services of the year. The sanctuary decked in greenery, the christmas tree adorned with white lights, gold and white Chrismons and balls that caught the light, And the advent wreath, where each Sunday we light the candles of Love, Joy, Hope and Peace, all culminating to Christmas Eve where we lit the Christ candle in the middle.
The service was always standing room only, about 400 people filled the room. As the service began you would hear the first voices of the choir as they processed down the aisles with robes and black music folders, 20+ men and women singing out the welcoming of christmas. The congregation would often join in and the room would swell with music as the choir filled in the choir loft. The service was pretty predictable. The lighting of the advent wreath and the christ candle, a number from the handbell choir, the story of the birth of the christ child read interspersed with carols. Read scripture, sing a carol, read more scripture, sing another carol, special music, read scripture, sing a carol. The service was leading to a climax, where the pastor would ask that the lights be extinguished, including the christmas tree. The whole room would be engulfed in complete darkness except for the advent wreath. (Here it is important to say that the best seat in the house was the back row.)
At this point the pastor would take his candle, walk to the wreath, and speak of Jesus being the light of the world, and the command to believers to share and spread that light into the dark places in the world around us. Then he would light his candle, and he would go to the choir and light the candle of the first member and then they would pass the light to each other. As the choir passed their lights, he would go to the congregation and start on one side of the room, usually his right. He would light the candle of the person on the end of the row, and that person would light the next, and that person would light the next. On it would go, across the two aisles, then it would be passed to the second row, and work its way across that row and so on. As the light was passed the choir would begin to sing Joy to the world and the congregation would join in. And as we sang, you could see the glow start to move across the room. Slowly as first, just a light or two, then as each row was lit the light would grow, and grow and grow until when it finally got to the last person on the back row the whole room would just glow. And as the light grew, the music grew with a great crescendo! Then, the choir would begin to leave the choir loft and exit down the rows, just as they had come in. And each row of people would begin to follow them, row by row, the light would begin to dim, until the only light left in the church was the advent wreath and the pastor, standing in the pulpit as the church took their light out into the darkness of the night.
As a child this service sometimes got long, and tedious, but as I grew older I was always brought to tears as I watched this beautiful living word picture. In fact as I write this I am awash with memories and tears. As I got married I invited my husband into this tradition. As our children were born and grew we attended the candlelight service of the church we were attending at the time. We ended up at a church with a much smaller congregation than we were used too, but their candlelight service was beautiful with many of the same elements and some variations that made it unique.
No matter the size of the church I still feel the lump in my throat as the candlelight starts to move across the darkened room. It is a timely reminder that even in the darkest of night, the light of christ is there to guide us, and we, as his followers are charged to carry that light with us wherever we go.
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