December 20, 2025

Christmas as Light in Darkness

Every year in December we come around to a holiday that still for many is a holy day. It has different names in different languages and cultures—Yuletide, Jul, Weinachten, Noel, Navidad, Natale, Rizdvo and more. Christmas comes from “Christ’s Mass,” denoting the sacred service known in many churches and languages as the “Mass.”


There are feasts of other faith traditions that often come close to the end of the year. Hannukah is the Jewish celebration of the victory of the Maccabees and the restoration of the sacred lights on the menorah or candlestick in the Jerusalem Temple. Despite not being filled with enough oil, the lamps burned for eight days. There is the Hindu celebration of light in darkness, Diwali. And the African-American holiday of Kwanzaa.


Christmas also has other special days associated with it. December 6 is the feast of St. Nicholas, the original Santa Claus, a 4th century bishop renowned for his generosity to those in need. In some countries this is the day of the exchange of gifts. Likewise January 6 is the feast of Epiphany or the day of the Three Magi Kings, when in Hispanic countries gifts are given.


Central to Christmas is the celebration of Jesus’ birth. The gospel of Luke tells the familiar story of the parents, Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem to enroll in a census. While there, lodging in a stable, their son is born, wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger, a feed trough for domestic animals. Angels announced this birth to shepherds in the surrounding countryside. These herdsmen came and honored the newborn child, having heard a song from the angels: “Glory to God in the highest, peace to all people on earth.”


Later, in Matthew’s gospel, three astronomers, perhaps also royalty, came from further East to visit the child, following a star which led them to where the family was. This gospel does not mention the angels, the manger or shepherds, but notes that King Herod was fearful of the newborn as a threat to his power, asking the three astronomers to report back and disclose where the child was. They did not do this and went home on another route. The male children of Bethlehem were subjected to a massacre. Thus, the birth of Jesus was not without pain and suffering also.


Christmas evokes images of trees twinkling with lights and ornaments, dinner tables loaded with food, the faces of children lit up with glee, not just at their presents but also at the warmth of family and friends. Christmas is an event that was to bring peace to the world, the birth of someone who became a teacher and healer later in life, one whom his followers saw, in Matthew’s words as “God with us,” Emmanuel, God becoming a human being, part of our world, of space and time. But Jesus was born in a land under the occupation of the Roman Empire, in a society in which most people teetered on the edge of extreme hunger and poverty. The birth happened in a barn where domestic animals lived, and the first visitors were scruffy sheep herders, thought of as not trustworthy.


Two thousand years later, Christmas remains a moment in a world torn apart by suspicion, hatred, violence and anger. The holiday sees millions of dollars spent on gifts, parties, decorations, and entertainment. And yet, the story of how this birth came to take place remains one that faces us with a helpless infant, loving parents, the sense of joy from heavenly beings, the welcome of very humble as well as some very elite, privileged visitors. Christmas can still stand as a sign of light in the darkness, a message of joy and goodness despite everything that might appear as opposed to this.


You don’t need to be religious to see in this holiday something of hope and joy. Merry Christmas!


---

The Rev. Michael Plekon, PhD
Professor Emeritus: Sociology, Religion & Culture The City University of New York - Baruch College


December 20, 2025
Fr. George Keith, a retired Episcopal priest who served St. Barnabas and worked closely with the Borrego Springs Performing Arts Center, continues to be held in prayer by the parish and wider community. He is remembered by name at every Sunday service, reflecting the lasting impact of his ministry and presence in Borrego Springs. Fr. George receives regular visits from the priests and people of St. Barnabas, as well as from Archdeacon Cindy Campos and local San Diego priest Fr. Richard Vevia. Recently, Jan Naragon and Fr. Michael Plekon spent time visiting Fr. George, offering prayer and companionship on behalf of the parish.  The photos below capture moments from that visit and the continued care that surrounds him.
By Fr. David Madsen December 19, 2025
We are leaving the last week of Advent and drawing near to Christmas, with Epiphany just ahead on the following Sunday. So what have we noticed about these past few weeks of waiting, watching, and, if we’re honest, trying not to lose track of which candle we’re supposed to light? Advent has been walking us through the wilderness with John the Baptist, who didn’t choose a comfortable pulpit. He chose the erēmos , the desert of Judea. A rugged, barren stretch east of Jerusalem all the way down toward the Dead Sea. A place you don’t pass through on your way to anywhere else. The desert is honest like that. It doesn’t flatter. It doesn’t distract. It simply says, “All right, what’s really going on in your soul?” That’s where John appears, calling people to prepare the way of the Lord anywhere. Which, depending on who you ask, sounds a lot like Borrego Springs. Anyone who has driven east of town toward the Salton Sea knows that feeling: the land opens up, the noise falls away, and suddenly the desert asks you questions you didn’t plan. Not with guilt, but with clarity. Repentance, in his voice, is not a scolding; it’s a spiritual housecleaning. A chance to sweep out the dust of fear, resentment, and spiritual clutter so the light of Christ can get in without tripping over anything. And the desert is a good teacher for this. Out here, nothing grows without intention. Life survives because water is shared, shade is offered, and roots learn to reach deep. Borrego Springs reminds us that transformation is possible even in harsh places, especially when compassion flows like a hidden spring. Advent work begins inside us—softening the heart, forgiving ourselves, forgiving others—but it doesn’t stay there. It moves outward into the dry places of the world, where justice, mercy, and peace are desperately needed. Christ calls us to be streams of kindness in thirsty landscapes. As we move toward Christmas and then into Epiphany, the season of revealing, we remember that John’s voice was only the beginning. As Martin Luther said, with John “a new voice is in town,” pointing toward the One to come who brings light into every shadow. And here in our own desert, we know something about light. We know how it rises over the mountains and floods the valley. We know how it reveals everything, beautiful or otherwise. And we know how it can warm even on the coldest morning. So as Advent gives way to Christmas, and Christmas leads us toward Epiphany, may we carry that desert clarity with us. May we make room for joy. May we welcome Christ’s peace. And may we become signs of hope in this rugged, beautiful place we call home.
December 16, 2025
Baptism Celebrated During Advent at St. Barnabas On Sunday, December 14 , St. Barnabas Episcopal Church celebrated the baptism of four family members , officiated by Fr. Michael Plekon . During the baptism, Fr. Plekon reminded the newly baptized that they are now family within the St. Barnabas church , emphasizing the shared commitment and sense of belonging that baptism represents. Following the service, the celebration continued with cake and a gathering . A traditional money toss (la lluvia de dinero) —a celebratory custom in Mexican culture—added a joyful moment to the occasion. The baptism brought together faith, cultural tradition, and community life at St. Barnabas in Borrego Springs.
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December 20, 2025
Fr. George Keith, a retired Episcopal priest who served St. Barnabas and worked closely with the Borrego Springs Performing Arts Center, continues to be held in prayer by the parish and wider community. He is remembered by name at every Sunday service, reflecting the lasting impact of his ministry and presence in Borrego Springs. Fr. George receives regular visits from the priests and people of St. Barnabas, as well as from Archdeacon Cindy Campos and local San Diego priest Fr. Richard Vevia. Recently, Jan Naragon and Fr. Michael Plekon spent time visiting Fr. George, offering prayer and companionship on behalf of the parish.  The photos below capture moments from that visit and the continued care that surrounds him.
By Fr. David Madsen December 19, 2025
We are leaving the last week of Advent and drawing near to Christmas, with Epiphany just ahead on the following Sunday. So what have we noticed about these past few weeks of waiting, watching, and, if we’re honest, trying not to lose track of which candle we’re supposed to light? Advent has been walking us through the wilderness with John the Baptist, who didn’t choose a comfortable pulpit. He chose the erēmos , the desert of Judea. A rugged, barren stretch east of Jerusalem all the way down toward the Dead Sea. A place you don’t pass through on your way to anywhere else. The desert is honest like that. It doesn’t flatter. It doesn’t distract. It simply says, “All right, what’s really going on in your soul?” That’s where John appears, calling people to prepare the way of the Lord anywhere. Which, depending on who you ask, sounds a lot like Borrego Springs. Anyone who has driven east of town toward the Salton Sea knows that feeling: the land opens up, the noise falls away, and suddenly the desert asks you questions you didn’t plan. Not with guilt, but with clarity. Repentance, in his voice, is not a scolding; it’s a spiritual housecleaning. A chance to sweep out the dust of fear, resentment, and spiritual clutter so the light of Christ can get in without tripping over anything. And the desert is a good teacher for this. Out here, nothing grows without intention. Life survives because water is shared, shade is offered, and roots learn to reach deep. Borrego Springs reminds us that transformation is possible even in harsh places, especially when compassion flows like a hidden spring. Advent work begins inside us—softening the heart, forgiving ourselves, forgiving others—but it doesn’t stay there. It moves outward into the dry places of the world, where justice, mercy, and peace are desperately needed. Christ calls us to be streams of kindness in thirsty landscapes. As we move toward Christmas and then into Epiphany, the season of revealing, we remember that John’s voice was only the beginning. As Martin Luther said, with John “a new voice is in town,” pointing toward the One to come who brings light into every shadow. And here in our own desert, we know something about light. We know how it rises over the mountains and floods the valley. We know how it reveals everything, beautiful or otherwise. And we know how it can warm even on the coldest morning. So as Advent gives way to Christmas, and Christmas leads us toward Epiphany, may we carry that desert clarity with us. May we make room for joy. May we welcome Christ’s peace. And may we become signs of hope in this rugged, beautiful place we call home.
December 16, 2025
Baptism Celebrated During Advent at St. Barnabas On Sunday, December 14 , St. Barnabas Episcopal Church celebrated the baptism of four family members , officiated by Fr. Michael Plekon . During the baptism, Fr. Plekon reminded the newly baptized that they are now family within the St. Barnabas church , emphasizing the shared commitment and sense of belonging that baptism represents. Following the service, the celebration continued with cake and a gathering . A traditional money toss (la lluvia de dinero) —a celebratory custom in Mexican culture—added a joyful moment to the occasion. The baptism brought together faith, cultural tradition, and community life at St. Barnabas in Borrego Springs.
Show More

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