Dear Friends,

As our days grow shorter and nights grow longer, I am increasingly aware of my tendency to take light for granted. The power of electricity enables me to see and navigate my spaces with relative ease, whether out on the streets or in my home, day or night. But this was not the case for most of human existence; up until the 20th century, we humans depended on sunlight, torches, candles, or oil lamps to navigate our path in safety, read from a page, cook our meals, or see the tenderness on our loved ones faces.

It isn’t surprising, then, that there are so many passages in our ancient scriptures that refer to light as something to be treasured. Especially during times of uncertainty, exile, danger, or sorrow. When darkness loomed large, light symbolized all that would overcome it.

During the season of Advent, these darkest days of the year, biblical texts about the power of light permeate our liturgy….and fittingly so. It strikes me how, in our gospel reading for today, John the baptizer is described like this: He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. Looking back at all that has transpired in our world this past year, we all know that it is no small thing to bear witness to the light when everything seems dark. 

It also strikes me how today’s gospel is accompanied by passages that testify to the power of God to work in what seem like powerless places. Isaiah sings of this power that enables him to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners. In her Magnificat, Mary sings about the God who lifts up the lowly and fills the hungry with good things. And in Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, he testifies to the God who calls us to Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, even (and perhaps especially) when the circumstances hardly seem to warrant it. 

The point is: the power of God comes as a light to illumine our paths even in the darkest times. And though we know that no one can walk our paths for us, we have, at least, the power to help illuminate the path for each other. And it matters that we hold the light for one another. It matters that we bear witness to the Light that holds us all, across streets, across oceans, across borders, across time.

Who holds the light for you? Who might need you to hold the light for them in acts of love and grace?

During this third week of Advent I invite you to look for the light in the unlikeliest places—the light that brings healing and release, the light that visits us with joy when we cannot imagine it, the light that meets each hunger, the light that causes us to testify to its presence in the deepest shadows. May we bear this light for one another, and may Christ our Light go with us and illumine our way.

Advent Peace,

Amelie+