Shortening Days

VERY FEW people welcome the shortening of days that occurs as we approach the winter solstice and the very longest night of the year. For those of you who live in the southern part of the planet this, of course, occurs in June.  Yet even those of us who enjoy the cold, snow and their accompanying winter sports, wish that we had more hours of daylight to enjoy them! Most of the time we regard the lack of light negatively. Darkness, however, brings its own blessing.



Our family owns a Border Collie, so walking around our neighbourhood is a regular family activity. During the day, when all is light, we only notice the exterior of the buildings and the panes of glass reflecting back the trees and sky and sunshine to us. When we walk at night, however, the buildings become shadows and the lives of their inhabitants inside become visible. To those who live inside the buildings, the lights burning in their homes enable them to cook, clean, study, eat, and enjoy one another’s company. However, the lights also enable all those who pass by to catch a glimpse, however partial, of what is going on inside the homes.

Ordinarily we think of darkness as something which hides and light as something which reveals, however, in fact, it is often in the midst of darkness that the power of light gets noticed. Light in a dark place draws attention to itself, causing us to focus on the source of the light. Darkness can actually point us more clearly to a light source.

Likewise, the light at the heart of humanity acquires its most radical visibility in the midst of the darkness of things like suffering, sinfulness, or persecution. We see the darkness of suffering in the devastation of natural disasters. In the darkness of tsunamis, floods and droughts, the shining light of human beings caring for one another shines forth. Many examples come to mind immediately – Haiti, Japan, Somalia.



We also see darkness in the sinful attitudes about the expendability of human life in debates about assisted suicide or abortion. In this darkness, we see the light of all those who uphold, in both word and deed, the absolute dignity of human life – even at its weakest and poorest. A particularly strong light is the presence of L’Arche communities around the world, where mentally and physically challenged people are cared for in life-affirming, loving and creative ways.

Finally, there is the darkness of persecution. The story of Christianity is full of examples of people who refused to give in to the darkness of such opposition. There are people like Saints Perpetua and Felicity – who proclaimed the joyful message of Christ even as they were being fed to the lions in the Roman Coliseum. There are people like Archbishop Oscar Romero – who called for peace and justice in the face of violence and oppression, or like Martin Luther King, Jr. – who reminded us that we are all equal in Christ Jesus regardless of our race. Even the physical death of these people was not sufficient to extinguish their light in the darkness of persecution.



As Christians, we should not be discouraged in the face of darkness. For it is in the very midst of darkness – whether it be in suffering, in sinfulness or in persecution – that we are given the most radical opportunity to make our goodness known. Let us remember, however, that light illumines the darkness best not when it is wild and flashing. Strobe lights give many people headaches and can even trigger epilepsy. Flashing lights hide and distort as much as they illuminate. Light illuminates darkness best when it is steady and consistent. A steady but dim light is of more use in darkness than one that is strong but irregular. Thus, to be a light to the darkness of sin and suffering, we must be steady, strong and consistent, all the while assured of the support of the Spirit of God in our mission.