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Brothers and sisters of the light

Thursday, December 29, 2016

1 John 2:7-10
I am writing a new commandment to you, which holds true in him and among you, for the darkness is passing away, and the true light is already shining. Whoever says he is in the light, yet hates his brother, is still in the darkness. Whoever loves his brother remains in the light, and there is nothing in him to cause a fall.

But the darkness draws. "Lord I'm one, Lord I'm two, Lord I'm three, Lord I'm four, Lord, I'm five hundred miles from my home." On my loneliest Christmas Eve I drove down bright streets of Charlotte, North Carolina, anxious for the Christmas tree and oyster stew with Mom and Dad. My tears made the colors run.

Perhaps we each need our dark Christmas to lighten up the rest. It is tempting for all of us, given the seductive nature of self-pity, to enter the darkness, stay a little too long, and sometimes not come out.

But then there is the light already shining. Just open up my eyes and the light blinds my self-pity, wrenches me up and into being loved.

Like us all, urban fantasy writer R. S. Belcher is fascinated by the interplay of dark and light.

In 1119 A.D., a group of nine crusaders became known as the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon. They were a militant monastic order charged with protecting pilgrims and caravans traveling on the roads to and from the Holy Land. In time, the Knights Templar would grow in power and, inevitably, be laid low. But this story tells us of a small offshoot of the Templars who have endured and returned to the order's original mission: to defend the roads of the world and guard those who travel on them.

A secret line of knights: truckers, bikers, taxi hacks, state troopers, bus drivers, RV gypsies, call themselves the Brotherhood of the Wheel. They patrol the U.S. Interstate highway system, which is a secret magnetic conduit for both good and bad magic.

A string of children gone missing draws some of these knights to a forgotten Kansas town, not on any map but at the exact center of the country, and to a forest-dwelling false family of eerie black-eyed kids controlled by the immortal biker/serial killer Emile Chasseur. Chasseur worships the god Cernunnos. The Horned Man.

Jimmie Aussapile, driving his own semi and returning as often as he can to his wife and kids, is one of those knights.

"Jimmie, it looks like the universe, at its most fundamental levels, is out of whack and falling apart. We have to do something before it's too late."

Robert Langdon has nothing on Jimmie Aussapile. "Right, Jimmie said. "Save the universe. Got it, but first we have to merge into the damned right lane."

And Jimmie has nothing on St. John. If you're in the light you love your brother, love your sister. It's that love freely offered which saves us, and within that love "there is nothing in us to cause a fall."

Our redemption always comes from loving, Jesus, never from righteous violence. We may never learn this lesson very well. Keep our eyes watching for you while we make decisions about how to live.



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