Our light and hope

God’s very first word was ‘Let there be light.’ This first-ever word was also God’s first grace. But then God spoke his word into the life of his Son, and the first grace became the greatest grace. And so we come to the Days of Light and Glory, God with us in the nativity of his Son.

Light has been coming toward us through these past four weeks of Advent—becoming more visible with each candle added as the weeks advanced. It has been like a flickering murmur, a growing flame, pointing the way to the hope we all long for.

Mary’s child is our light and hope.

On this day, that growing light has transfigured into a glowing star, marking out the place of an infant’s birth. A mother who needs to give birth does so among sheltering animals. Far from ideal, in a moment of desperate urgency, it would have to do.

The child to be born she already knew to be special. We have been privileged to know in hindsight why. For Mary’s child, Jesus, is the incomparable light needed by all in the world. For this new-born child, a life of light, is the true hope for the world. Mary’s child is our light and hope.

He was, in the first instance, a light that was seen by God’s lowliest of families, the ones hired to tend flocks owned by others, in the dark of night. They knew what animal stables were like; in all likelihood, they knew exactly what it was like to be born in one. To the shepherd families, God first revealed himself as one among them.

God first shone most brightly for the least, for he had come to be a light of hope in their dark places.

That hope would come first to them in, of all places, that place! Oh, what a light it was! For life is an act of hope, and to offer life is to offer hope. God first shone most brightly for the least, for he had come to be a light of hope in their dark places.

But not just the shepherds. In time, the light that was Jesus Christ would glow for others, and even for us. Are we also not prone to finding ourselves dwelling in darkness and the shadows of death? In struggle and disappointment, in hurt and emptiness, in need of purpose and meaning?

God among us, Emmanuel, came first to illumine shepherd families, because his light would provide for them pools of safety and hope. But his light also shines on the paths of our lives. There is hope also for us in the birth of this Child and the light he brings. Do you believe it?

This light of Christ is the light we need—for ourselves, for our families, for our communities.

Now that God has illumined this day with the birth of Jesus, the invitation for us is to remain in this light. Why? Because we each need it, and the world needs it: a light that is forgiving, a light that shows pathways to reconciling peace, a light by which we might find meaning for our lives in God’s image, and to reflect God’s image to others.

This light of Christ is the light we need—for ourselves, for our families, for our communities. It is not simply desirable, but essential, because it reveals to us the promise that we are made in God’s image, and shows us how to live accordingly.

Today we find ourselves here in this moment of glorious illumination, bathed in Christ’s transfiguring light.

It is a light by which to discover that God has an eternal destiny for us in him. It is a light by which to see the world around us and find our pathways of hope. Christ himself is that light, which we hope for. Christ, our light, is the hope for us that will not disappoint.

How desperately the world, in so many places, needs the light of peace, to dispel the darkness of hatred. How urgently we need to illumine our communities, covered in shadows of polarisation and individualisation. How especially we need to allow ourselves to see the light that will bring us to a harbour of safety amid the storms of self-doubt and confusion.

Today we find ourselves here in this moment of glorious illumination, bathed in Christ’s transfiguring light. May we allow this Dawn from on high to break upon us and show us the way to hope and peace. A blessed Christmas to you all!

Banner image: Nativity scene at St Patrick’s Cathedral during the midnight Pontifical Mass, Christmas 2024.