Advent 4: Candles in the dark

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” JOHN 1:5

When I lit the candle, I became more aware of the dark. Despite the sermons I’ve heard this season, the meditations I’ve read, that single moment delivered the Advent message I most needed to hear.

As I write, it’s the shortest day of the year. There’s more darkness than light, but it also marks the moment when that all begins to change. Light begins its crawl back to its rightful prominence. It reminds me of what John wrote about darkness not being able to consumed the light. Although the short days are but a flicker, the darkness only reminds me of light’s importance.

Last night I went and spoke at the local rehab center. Looking at the weary faces and glossy eyes, I was overwhelmed by the sadness before me. Darkness was wearing a mask. As we sat together, laughs broke through, people smiled and nodded as we spoke of a not-too-distant hope. It was only a flicker, but when surrounded by the darkness it burned brighter.

Watching the news these days is particularly difficult. Darkness seems to be everywhere I look and it’s shrouding the things I love about our country, and the friendships I treasure, most. The promise of “peace on earth and good will to all” almost sounds like a cruel joke when heard in concert with greed and disdain for others. I turn off the TV and my phone rings. My daughter wants to have me over for dinner and a movie. My starving soul is given a meal.

I cannot control the darkness no matter how hard I try. All I can do is light a candle. All I can do is change my focus. Maybe, just maybe, that will be enough.