A light in dark times

The cold and grey of winter are upon us now. The parks are closing earlier and it gets dark by 4pm.

Our ancestors rose at the first light of day and slept after sunset. In centuries past people feared the growing darkness which came with the shortening days of autumn.  Festivals grew up to celebrate the hoped-for return of the sun after 21st December. 

In our century, the darkness can blaze like noon at the flick of a switch. To get frightened we turn off the lights and watch scary movies!

Yet the darkness can still frighten people today, even in our world of 500 watt bulbs.  We light our streets so brightly because of the fear of crime.  Death – the ultimate darkness – is the last great taboo topic of conversation in our times; people still fear what lies beyond this life. 

As the American short story writer, O. Henry, lay dying he called for a candle to be lit.  Asked why, he replied: “I don’t want to go home in the dark.”

All of us face times of darkness sometimes. Times when all the joy seems to have drained out of life.

The Bible says of Jesus: “In him was life and that life was the light of mankind. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.“

The season of Advent, which begins this weekend, brings the message that although we cannot always avoid dark times we are not left to face them alone. 

One of the names of Jesus is ‘God-with-us.’ Which does not mean that he wears a red cape and flies through the air faster than a speeding bullet to rescue us. He doesn’t leap tall buildings at one bound. He doesn’t usually take us out of dark situations. That isn’t the promise. 

The promise of the season is that God is with us. That he enters our world and our experiences to be there with us. Knowing this, through the centuries people have had new courage to face harrowing times because they no longer feel alone.

That promise holds true for us today.  God promises to be with you and me - today - as a light in our darkness.  

And sometimes that promise is fulfilled when you or me, joining-in with what God is doing unseen, phones or visits or listens or hugs someone and, in that moment, we glimpse the invisible God-with-us.