You do not need to be afraid of the dark to know that you can injure yourself if you are unable to see. Stumbling around in the dark is slow-going. There are obstacles and pitfalls. When the electricity goes out, especially if there is a blackout in the neighborhood and no streetlights to shine into the windows, we realize that the dark is very, very dark.
The dark can feel oppressive, even heavy. It is always such a comfort to light a candle, turn on a flashlight, or start a fire to bring light into the dark. I have noticed on such occasions that in pitch blackness, the glow of even the smallest light can bring light to a wide area. It is almost as if the light pours around the room, spilling over into the darkness.
I have never been in a blackened room in which I have lit a candle or turned on a flashlight that the darkness spread into the light rather than the light into the darkness. Darkness will not ever overcome the light. When I light more candles and place them around the room the collective light chases the darkness into the recesses and corners. Only a few shadows remain. Shadows remain even in well-lit rooms, but the light chases the shadows around allowing no place for them to hide.
It is like that with the light of Christ. There is darkness in the world, this is undeniable. But the light of Christ spills over into the darkness, and the darkness of this world will never overcome this light. We who bear the light of Christ multiply this light in the world, bringing light to even the darkest places.
This Advent let us prepare ourselves to be bearers of the light of Christ to a world in darkness.