A Feast of light

Bergen, city centre, November 29, 2008: In the deepening darkness, thousands of people had congregated in spite of the constant drizzle, toting their newly lit torches in the November chill, alternately singing along to the melodies of traditional Christmas carols or watching, eyes riveted, the spectacular, exuberant display of multicultural dances on stage.

At one point it struck me that this yearly event, called Lysfest in Norwegian, was actually tantamount to a huge outdoor mass. But this massive throng hadn't come because of an overwhelming urge to worship God, they we're mainly there to witness and partake of a local tradition that will most likely survive should the sole founder, organizer and financial donor - the local newspaper Bergens Tidende- ever decide to quit playing the big spender.

Absent, yet ubiquitous

But, yes, there was definitely something undeniably 'churchy' to what transpired before my eyes. The carols didn't even vaguely conceal the central message of the gospel, as the absent child in the manger continued to command center stage. And in an increasingly secular society, this lavish proclamation of the coming of our Saviour, is something so rare, seemingly off-beat, that I could hardly contain my own surprise and joy.

And no one seemed to protest this apparent onslaught of religious propaganda either, albeit not all were caught up in the pervading pre-Xmas atmosphere. But maybe this celebration of physical light, as evinced in the facial responses to the final pyrotechnical bonanza, is an indication of what some have been claiming all along:

Not through with Jesus

Norwegians, or Europeans for that matter, have never really grown tired of Jesus. They're fed up with the externals of organized religion, but deep down they're very hungry for some real light, particularly spiritual. And even if a Feast of light, as the one this evening, cannot in any way be construed as proof that people still fancy the child in the manger, I find it well-nigh impossible to banish the thought that I was part of a crowd that may someday be gathering in this public square again. And this time for the express purpose of publicly praising Jesus.

You know, the infant who, after all, did eventually leave his manger, later to climb the steps to a throne he will never, ever leave.