Jesus, the Light Who Makes Sense of All Our Twinkling

Every December, I turn into one of those people — the one who covers the house in twinkling lights. Fairy lights on the tree, warm globes around the windows, a shining star at the door, a soft glow in every corner and more candles than is possible safe to have with two growing boys! I love it. There’s something about tiny lights shining in the dark that feels honest and hopeful at the same time

But if I’m really paying attention, those lights are doing more than decorating my home. They’re reminding me of something deeper — something the New Testament insists on again and again:

Jesus is the Light.
Not a light.
Not one light among many.
The Light of the world.

A Light That Comes From Outside

Tim Keller says in Hidden Christmas that the light doesn’t rise from inside us — it dawns on us. It comes from outside the human race altogether. He writes:

“On those living in the land of deep darkness, a light has dawned.”
(Hidden Christmas)

Not generated…
Not discovered…
Dawned.

Which is good news if your inner light feels a bit dim this year. There are some years, some seasons, when it feels harder to manufacture the sparkle that seems to be required this time of year.

But Jesus doesn’t ask us to manufacture our own brightness. He comes as the brightness we cannot produce.

Light That Brings Life, Not Just Atmosphere

My Christmas lights make things prettier.
Jesus’ light makes things possible.

In the New Testament, Jesus as “light” means:

• Clarity when life feels confusing

• Hope when circumstances feel heavy

• Life that pushes back against death

• Presence that darkness cannot overcome

Keller puts it beautifully:

“He is a light for us when all other lights go out.”

And don’t we know that feeling? The decorations are lovely — but they don’t fix the weariness, the uncertainty or the longing for more that can creep in this time of year.

But the Light of the world steps into that very place.

The Light We’re Actually Longing For

When I switch on the twinkling lights around my home, I’m reminded that my joy isn’t just in the glow — it’s in what the glow points to.

Every soft shimmer is a signpost.
A whisper.
A reminder that:

The real Light has come.
The darkness has not won.
And we are not alone.

This is why Advent invites joy — not because life is perfect, but because the Light is present.