Light ultimately conquers the night

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany, the manifestation of the eternal almighty God in the fragile infant Jesus. As the supreme revelation of God, Jesus is referred to as the light of the world.

 John the evangelist writes that through him all that is has come to be and that, as mediator, he is the “light of the human race; the light [that] shines in the darkness” (John 1:2).

Allow me to share some reflections about Jesus, the Self-gift of God to us as the light in relation to our manifold experiences of darkness.

Light after the Dark Night.  Like the first rays of the sun breaking out after a prolonged night, we speak of the Incarnate Word as the light that illumines humanity about our ineffable God: “a new light of your glory has shone upon the eyes of our mind” that reveals to us the invisible God,” (Preface I of the Nativity of the Lord).  We also speak of the Risen Lord as the Eternal Light who conquers the darkness of sin and death. 

In this paradigm the light of divine grace comes sequentially after the dark night of ignorance, sin and death. 

 In reference to ourselves, we often experience grace as light ultimately banishing the night — the prayed-for cure from a terminal illness, renewal and liberation from an addiction, family reconciliation after years of conflict and fragmentation, liberation from incarceration, democratic space after the overthrow of a dictatorship, economic development after years of stagnation. 

Now basking in the light after a protracted night, we thank the Lord for having blessed us, for intervening and bringing about our personal or social transformation.  However, the light can also glimmer inconspicuously amidst the dark.

Light Amidst the Dark Night.  With regard Jesus’ Paschal Mystery, grace proves victorious not only at the moment of the resurrection.  Grace wins over sin and evil not only as Jesus is raised from the dead, but in every moment of his passion and death.  In Jesus’ fidelity to his cause and convictions, to the mission given him by the Father, to his friends despite their betrayal and desertion, divine love remains indomitable and persists indefatigably amidst suffering and pain.  The light of Jesus’ faithful love cannot be extinguished by the darkness of human sin and evil.

In this paradigm we are invited to discern the glimmer of light amidst the dark that engulfs us.  We glean rays of light in the midst of the dark in the resiliency of the Yolanda survivors despite their devastating loss, in the inner peace of one battling cancer, in the self-sacrifice of the millions of OWFs who battle isolation and loneliness in faraway lands, in the unflinching hope of Mandela and Aung San Suu Kyi. In all these instances the epiphany of light does not come only after the dark has been dispelled, but manifests itself in the interiority of individuals wrapped by the dark night of illness or isolation, dispossession or persecution. This interior light is the indwelling of the Lord, enabling us to battle the night of bitterness and hopelessness.

The Dark Night as Light. Not only does the light necessarily come after the night or show itself amidst the dark.  Paradoxically, the night itself can be light in mysterious ways.  In the baby Jesus born in a stable, hunted down by an envious king, in whose name blood is spilled, and who has to flee to Egypt for safety, the omnipotent God has become vulnerable. The helplessness of God is in fact light to us, for in God’s embrace of our fragility, the Lord makes himself accessible to us all.  In Jesus’ cry of abandonment on the cross, we glimpse the light of a God who detests sin but allows himself to be victimized by human sin.  In Jesus’ forsakenness, we glean the light of a God who abhors the barriers of alienation and calls us into communion, and yet permits himself to be castigated and cast-off by human iniquity.  In Jesus’ desolation on the cross God expresses solidarity with us in our distress and despair, our sense of forsakenness and “forgottenness” by God. 

In what ways might our experiences of darkness simultaneously be mysterious experiences of light?  Might our encounters with deep loneliness and gnawing emptiness be an invitation to solitude, to intimacy with God in an intangible yet profound way?  Might our indignation against corruption and violence, inequity and falsehood reveal to us our passion for justice and truth?  Might our stunned bewilderment over the devastation wrought by Typhoon Yolanda manifest to us our deep common humanity and our compassion for the broken and desperate?  Might our fear of dying and death that haunt us be an invitation to surrender our helplessness, our unanswered questions, our entire selves to God, the Absolute Mystery, the source and sustainer of all life?

Jesus is our light.  Through our varying experiences of darkness, let us beg the grace to open ourselves to receive the light of Christ that, despite the prolonged and pervading darkness, ultimately conquers the night.