It is Advent! Everyone in the Webber household who lives on the shores of Lac La Hache is hoping for fire and ice. Fire and ice is a tradition that goes all the way back to my own childhood, and in some form or other, back to most rural Canadian childhoods, I expect. When I was a kid, about the beginning of Advent, if the local slough could get a good freeze on it before any snow came, it became a sea of glass. Every kid in the lumber camp would work his or her tail off scrounging wood and dragging it onto the ice. Anything that would burn and wasn't nailed down was fair game, which once caused an outhouse to mysteriously disappear. All of the wood was stacked to form a huge bonfire. At night, whole families would gather for the ritual of fire and ice. The bonfire was lit, skates were strapped on, and soon blades were flashing and sizzling on the virgin ice. You could skate around on the edge of the dark for miles. It was the most liberating experience I have ever had in my life. All the time, the pillar of fire was both a beacon and warmth. All the time, the pillar of fire guided us with its blaze, warmed our very beings and was the centre for hot chocolate fellowship. The pillar of fire provided for our freedom on ice. It was absolutely wonderful.
Fire and ice; it's truly a Canadian tradition that often happens during the season of Advent. This year, as I hope for and fondly remember fire and ice, our church Advent project is reading through the Gospels. Last night I read the saying of Jesus, “I am the light of the world.” (John 8:12) According to John's Gospel, Jesus said this on the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles in Jerusalem. This eight-day feast was designed to be a memorial of the wilderness journey of the Exodus. In Jesus' day, one of the traditions that took place during the Feast of Tabernacles was the lighting of the huge candelabra in the Temple. It was to remind the people of the pillar of fire that God used to guide Israel out of slavery and through the darkness of their wilderness journey. In addition to this, another tradition of the Feast of Tabernacles involved torches that lit up the whole of the city. Again, it was to remind people of the pillar of fire God used to accompany and guide Israel to freedom. Against this backdrop of fire and light and travelling through the dark wilderness to freedom … on the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles, Jesus says: “I am the light of the world.”
It is like Jesus saying, “I am your pillar of fire.” I have to confess I have never really appreciated Jesus this way before. It appears that this is my Advent revelation this year. I have never directly connected Jesus to a divine companion light that leads me out of bondage and through the wilderness to set me free. I have never really thought of Jesus in this Exodus kind of way. I have usually thought of Jesus in terms of salvation, forgiveness, healing, the revelation of God and such. But if Jesus says to me, “I am your pillar of fire,” it is like he is asking me, “David, so what is your Egypt? What enslaves you? What bondage do you need to be released from? What holds you captive? What tough wilderness do you have to slog through to find freedom? What darkness is seeking to envelope you on the way to liberty?” It is like Jesus stands before me and says, “Remember God with his people in the Exodus? David, I am your pillar of fire! I am the way through it all for you. There is nothing which is hard or enslaving or dark or wilderness in your life that I cannot and will not see you through … nothing. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12) Absolutely wonderful! Just like fire and ice.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
“I am this dark world's light;
Look unto me, thy morn shall rise,
And all thy day be bright.”
I looked to Jesus, and I found
In him my star, my sun;
And in that light of life I'll walk
Till travelling days are done.
– Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889
