‘The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.’ (John 1:5 NRSV.)
This verse from the prologue of John’s Gospel will have been read in many churches during
Christmas. Darkness and light are a feature of the birth narrative. The shepherds are out in their
fields in the darkness of night, and suddenly, with an angelic appearance, the darkness is
overcome (Luke 2:8-14). The Maji (or Wise Men) are led to the birth of Jesus by a star shining in
the sky. (Matthew 2 :1, 9 & 10).
We see it most clearly in the witness of John the Baptist in his testimony about Jesus, quoting
again from the prologue of John’s Gospel: ‘He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that
all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.
The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.” (John 1 :7-8).
How do we view these images of light and dark in the context of the unprovoked mass killings of
civilians in Israel on October 7th and the subsequent slaughter of Palestinians in Gaza? This
can be set alongside the wider question of the multiple conflicts worldwide, the ongoing threat of
nuclear war, and the climate crisis. We live in dark days. Where can we see the light of the
Christ Child?
I recently came across a quote that I have yet to be able to source but, during recent months,
found helpful. It is “it is on the darkest nights that the stars shine brightest.” This is, of course,
very true. As Carolyn and I take a short break with friends in Arizona, I am able to admire the
dark sky and appreciate the many stars because of the stance taken by the State on light
pollution.
This is equally true when I reflect theologically on light and dark. In places of violence and
where terrible deeds are being done, we often seem to find the saintliest of people. The
darkness of evil is overcome by the lovelight shining out of the individual, showing compassion
and mercy in the face of tyranny. The scars of war may be all around, but the wonderful peace-
building efforts of many individuals and organizations are inspiring. The quality of their love amid
poverty and loss shines out.
Is that true also of the land we call Holy, today? Despite what we see and read in the news
media, I believe the light will continue to shine. I have seen so many people, Palestinian and
Israeli, who, despite the years of unjust occupation, the abuse of power, injustice, and blatant
discrimination, have exemplified a different way, bringing people together across the divide
despite the walls being erected. I have read testimonies about Jewish Israelis abused by the
Israeli Army for their willingness to stand by Palestinians as they attempt to gather harvest from
their own trees. Yet these Jewish Israelis have stood by and not abandoned their Palestinian
brothers and sisters. I have seen Palestinians who, despite huge intimidation, still show a calm
dignity. I have no doubt that this kind of light will shine in Gaza this Christmas amid the war's
darkness.
The question is often asked: where is God in this slaughter? Where is the Christ Child born this
Christmas? The light that shines amid the darkness cries out that he is amid the devastation of
the bombed-out city streets of Gaza, with thousands of Palestinians missing and believed to be
under the rubble.
The dust and dirt of the conflict create a fog of war in which it is often difficult to see any light
amidst the darkness. However, the tiny spark of the starlight that led the Maji to the birth is
lighting up the way for us today. The darkness of Hamas won’t triumph in the end. The darkness
of Israel’s revenge won’t be the end of the story. The darkness of ethnic cleansing won’t be
history’s conclusion about the war. At present, we may not be able to see it, for there, in the
darkness, there appears to be no way forward. However, I truly believe a star is shining its light,
for that is what our faith is all about.
Shalom to you, my friend.
Pastor Andrew