The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it (John 1:5)

It is on the eve of winter solstice, the shortest and darkest day of the year that I finish writing this.  December is a dichotomy for me.  It is my favorite month of the year with all the social gatherings, exchange of cards, gifts and good wishes and, of course, the beauty of celebrating the birth of Christ.  December is also the month I was born, the darkest time of the year, and the month where my energy level is the lowest.  This time of the year every part of my physical being wants to pull the covers over my head in the morning and go back to sleep until the first signs of light peak through the cracks in the drapes in the bedroom.  My physical being wants to hibernate, and I find that I am forcing myself to ignore these instincts and drag my body out of bed in the dark of the morning to be at work often before the first signs of daylight are evident.  There is something about the light that brings us energy.  Without it we could not survive.  And surviving is often what I feel I am doing in these long dark days and yet, there are always rays of light that beckon me on—in the goodness of people around me, in the generosity of others for those suffering in any way. Light and dark . . . the light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.

John O’Donohue, in his book Anam Cara, has a wonderful, poetic way of talking about light and darkness. He says that “Light is incredibly generous, but also gentle.  He goes on to say, “When you attend to the way the dawn comes, you learn how light can coax the dark.  The first fingers of light appear on the horizon, and ever so deftly and gradually, they pull the mantle of darkness away from the world.  Quietly, before you is the mystery of a new dawn, the new day.”   Dark coaxing light into being.  It is, to me, a beautiful image of light being coaxed out of the dark giving birth to a new day.  A new opportunity to experience to gift of life.

Perhaps the darkness of this winter solstice is like a transition that invites us into a time of waiting and expectation of days gradually becoming longer and lighter.  Waiting and expectation for light, for the light of the sun to energize us and light our way.  And waiting with expectation and Advent hope for the light of the world—for Jesus the Christ, whose birth we celebrate in a few days, to shine His light in our hearts.  The light that shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it!  The Light that promises hope, peace, joy, love, and much more to a world who often lives in the darkness with it’s many shades.

I have experienced much light this last year as an Oblate Associate. I have had the privilege of journeying with a group of committed inquirers who have been embarking on a journey of discovery about St. Eugene de Mazenod and the Oblate charism.  It has been a joy to walk with them as together we learn about the life of this remarkable saint and share our journey of faith with one another.  Fr. Alfred Groleau, Lucie Leduc and I make up a small formation team in St. Albert with ten inquirers.  Together we will discern their willingness and readiness to take the next step toward Oblate Association and many will make their commitment for the first time in February.  Men and women who love the church and the Oblates and seek to grown and deepen this love within the context of the Oblate community.

I have experienced light as a member of the Gareth Place Basic Oblate Community, in the rich sharing of faith and life we share.  And I experienced light when Fr. Bonga visited in September and early October bringing memories of the remarkable pilgrimage I was part of in 2015 at Aix en Province—an experience that brought the light of the charism into sharper focus for me.  All these experiences highlight for me how we coax the inner light in each other to shine brighter, dispelling more of the darkness as we journey together.  There is, I believe, a lot of light that dispels the darkness whenever we gather as Oblates and Oblate Associates.

As the darkness of these December days slowly gives way to light, our Advent days of waiting and expectation will give way to Christmas, to celebrating of birth of Christ, whose coming into the world changed things forever. As we gather around the Eucharistic table, around the family table and around the community table, may the light of Christ shine in us and among us and dispel any darkness.  May we have the grace to open our hearts ever more broadly to the light of Christ and may His light in us collectively shine brightly before others for all to see.

By Debbie Doornbos, Oblate Associate