We have just heard those luminous words from the opening of John’s Gospel:
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it.”
Yesterday, I attended a gathering in central London
at the invitation of another faith tradition:
multi faith lighting of a Chanukah candle, hosted by Progressive Judaism.
It took place in the shadow of the attack at Bondi Beach this week,
and it brought together voices from Jewish, Muslim, Sikh,
humanist and Christian communities.
“The light shines in the darkness” is not an exclusive Christian claim.
Christians borrowed this language from another tradition.
The Jewish story knows something profound
about keeping light alive in dark times.
Chanukah is a festival that refuses to give in to despair,
insisting that even a small flame matters.
That is why Jews light Chanukah candles.
And it is why Christians light Advent candles.
What struck me most was that Muslims, Christians and Jews were present together.
Our presence together became a moment of holy encounter.
Sometimes simply turning up pushes back against the logic of terror,
which seeks to isolate, to frighten and to divide.
When we stay together, when we refuse to withdraw into fear,
we quietly but decisively resist that logic.
At the heart of the Christian faith is the conviction
that God does not remain distant from the world,
but enters into the midst of human life.
Into joy and grief. Into violence and longing.
Into places like Bondi Beach, Gaza and the West Bank,
Jerusalem, Ukraine and Sudan.
The Word becomes flesh not in an idealised world,
but in the real one we inhabit.
So when we speak of the light of Christ shining in the darkness,
we are speaking of God’s presence in the world.
A presence that cannot be extinguished.
And we are also speaking of our calling:
to bear that light in our own lives,
through presence rather than fear,
through compassion rather than withdrawal,
so that the light may continue to shine in the darkness.
Let us pray.
God of light and life,
you are present in the midst of the world as it is,
not distant from its pain, nor absent from its hope.
Where there is fear, let your light bring courage.
Where there is violence, let your light bring compassion.
Where communities are torn apart, draw us together in trust and solidarity.
As we celebrate the light of Christ shining in the darkness,
shape us into people who carry that light in our own lives:
choosing presence over withdrawal,
love over indifference,
and hope over despair.
May your light shine through us,
for the healing of the world
and the blessing of all your people.
Amen.
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