Monday, January 03, 2022

A Light In Dark Places

 A Light in Dark Places

John 1:5[1]

The point of our service this evening is to remind us of the light that shines in the darkness. We need to be reminded of that because there’s plenty of darkness these days. The simple fact that this is the week of the longest nights in the year can make it hard for some of us. But there are other kinds of darkness we have to face as well. I think that’s one of the reasons why we go out of our way to make this time of year “festive.” It’s a way to bring some light into the darkness. But after the treats have been eaten and the packages opened and the decorations put away, we still have to face the darkness.

Some of us face the darkness of grief. The “holidays” can be the “worst possible time of the year” for those of us who have lost loved ones. For us, all the “celebrating” only reminds of those who are absent.

Some of us face the darkness of fear. So much about our world has changed, and it’s not going back to the way it was. At some point we all realize that everything we hold dear can be snatched away from us in the blink of an eye. Some of us don’t even know we’re afraid because we convert our fear to anger. But that’s a darkness just as deep.

Some of us face the darkness of doubt. Our lives are littered with broken promises, and it’s easy to decide that everything and everyone is corrupt. Instead of taking the chance of getting involved in the messiness of life, we put up walls to protect ourselves from being hurt.

Some of us face the worst kind of darkness: the darkness of despair. When we convince ourselves that we are beyond all hope, it can feel like we’ve fallen into an abyss where all love, all joy, all hope, all sense of meaning and purpose in life is gone.

After the Christmas “festivities” end, we still need a way to find the light that shines in the darkness. The Bible tells us God has promised to be God-who-is-with-us, and God-who-is-for-us. We celebrate this night because the baby born in the manger fulfilled the promise to be God-who-is-with-us. But more than that, when that baby grew up to be a man, he died on a cross, and fulfilled the promise to be God-who-is-for-us.

The manger and the cross are two very real reminders of the heart of our faith: the hope that “there is light on the other side of darkness.”[2] We can lose sight of that hope when we’re stuck. Sometimes we get stuck so deeply that not even the manger and the cross can relieve the darkness. We need something that can help us now. We may need to get out and take a walk—without looking at a phone! We may need to work in the yard. We may need to clean house or bake some cookies. We may need to listen to music that makes us want to dance—turned up loud! Sometimes, none of that helps, and all we can do is remember that if we let it go, the darkness will pass. The grief, the fear, the doubt, the despair will lift. And the sun will come up tomorrow.

As the Gospel of John declares: “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never put it out” (Jn 1:5, GNT). The manger reminds us that that there is light on the other side of darkness. The cross reminds us that the light shines in the darkness. More than that, when Jesus rose from the dead on that first Easter morning, he defeated death.  Just as surely as Jesus was born in the manger, just as surely as he died on the cross, just as surely as he rose from the grave, “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has never put it out.” When the light dawns, the darkness must go.



[1] ©2021 Alan Brehm. A Christmas eve meditation delivered by Rev. Alan Brehm on 12/24/2021 for Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 76.

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