Light breaks through.

For ancient Rome
the empire represented light–
light for the world–
the light of the emperor,
the light of god.

And along come Matthew, Luke, John–
all making the radical (dangerous!) claim
that this new one, this baby, this neonate
is the actual light of the world–
not Rome,
not the emperor,
not the current culture,
not its unquestioned ideology.

That's like announcing
that your newborn
is the world's new superpower,
the one to replace the U.S.,
the one to do what our empire has failed to do–
bring wholeness and peace to the world.

Matthew, Luke and John all say:
this babe
is about to turn our culture on its ear.

We no longer hear
the extreme radicality
of these claims
when we tell again
the fairly benign story
of the Christmas narrative,
now reduced to Precious Moment figurines,
children, pale and smiling.
No, this was the stuff of revolution;
this still is the stuff of revolution. 

This light comes
to smash my darkness
and yours
and our nation's
and the world's.

I wonder
if he came today to do the same,
would we follow him?
or kill him?