Thought for the Day, December 13th. A Thought on Darkness.

 I had some fun recently looking at the report sent to me by my music streaming service. They detail every song I’ve listened to this year and make statistical judgements about my musical tastes. My teenagers find it deeply embarrassing that my most listened to song in 2021 (for the second year running) was Blinding Lights by The Weekend. For me there’s just something about the rhythm that lends itself perfectly to the movement of the cross trainer at my gym, which is where I most often listen to music. 

Being blinded by light is certainly an arresting image to consider today, on the feast of St Lucy, who if legend is true, was tortured by having her eyes removed. The story goes that when her body was being prepared for burial, it was discovered that her eyes had been restored to her. 

What would it be like to look afresh upon not just light, but darkness, during Advent? Yes, this is a time of material darkness - at least in the Northern hemisphere - but darkness, even metaphorical or spiritual darkness, is not always a thing of inherent negativity. And light, as anyone who is the close neighbour of a Christmas light fanatic knows, isn’t always welcome. As a mother who spends a goodly deal of my time switching off lights left on by my children, I can certainly relate to the desire for darkness. 

The dark has been good to me. Some of my most treasured memories took place in the dark. I discovered God on one dark night eight years ago. I have emerged from periods of extreme inner darkness to discover new truths about myself and strength I never knew I had. I’ve been loved in the dark and I’ve given birth in the dark. I can’t sleep in the summertime unless every single chink of light has been snuffed out by my blackout curtains, because light is a distraction and sometimes darkness is blessed relief. For me, darkness is peace, darkness is comfort, darkness is refuge and rest. We are people of light and dark and we need both. 

What do we say about people with sight loss, when blindness is spiritualised and loaded with negative connotations? What impression is given of people with dark skin, if darkness is only ever used as a metaphor for evil or sin? New life begins in the dark, whether it’s a baby in the dusk of a womb, a seed in shady soil, or God being born in the gloom of a stable. As the Psalmist tells us, darkness to God shines like the day.