Christ the Light

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

(Proofread)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins, and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

We read in today's Gospel, “No one who has lighted a lamp covers it with a vessel and puts it under a couch, but he puts it on the lamp stand, that they who enter may see the light. For there is nothing hidden that will not be made manifest, nor anything concealed that will not be known and come to light” (Luke 8:16-17).

I find the word “light” appears twice in this short passage. The Gospel of St. John is often called the Gospel of Light. It’s an interesting word that appears in Scripture. It was full of significance.

Christ was the light. We seek the light; we look for the light; we love the light. We are also called to give off light.

We’re told in St. John, “In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:4-5).

There is a contrast between light and darkness. Truth comes with the light; error comes with darkness. Sin leads to darkness.

Everything good and true and beautiful is associated with the light, the divine word Incarnate, a light of truth, of love, of beauty, that Our Lord has lit up in the world.

He wants us to help, to burn brightly, and to shine into the hearts and souls and minds of everybody on the planet.

“Good tidings of great joy that will be to all the people” (Luke 2:10), joy because it is light and truth and beauty.

“There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. This man came for a witness, to give testimony of the light, that all men might believe through him. He was not the light but was to give testimony to the light” (John 1:6-8).

The light comes in very specific ways. Christ is the light. Other people are not the true light, or the one light.

That light manages to shine where God wants it to shine and where people want it to shine.

“Waters pass through the mountains (Ps. 104:8). There may be difficulties for that light to penetrate to all beings, but somehow the light gets through.

Fr. Joe Barbendreier recently got a letter from a man in Nakuru who said that he went to a stall one day to buy some chips, and the chips were wrapped in the Sunday Nation. He sat down to eat his chips, and he opened up the piece of paper, and there was the homily of Fr. Joe Barbendreier in that piece of paper.

While he ate the chips he was reading his homily. He said, “I was so impressed with the homily. It was so good that I decided to write to you to tell you how much I enjoyed your homily.”

“And it was so good that I decided to buy more chips.” Sometimes the light comes flavored with salt and vinegar.

God works and the Holy Spirit works in all sorts of mysterious ways to bring that light to specific individuals.

“That was the true light that enlightens every man who comes into this world. He was in the world and the world was made by him and the world knew him not” (John 1:9-10).

“This is the judgment, because the light has come into the world, and men love darkness rather than light, for their works were evil” (John 3:19).

The light has a purpose, a purpose to dispel the darkness. The whole of humanity is walking in darkness. They need the light—the importance of our apostolate, of our spirit, of talking to people, of using every opportunity to spread that light.

God wants to use our initiative, our correspondence, and our generosity to bring that light of truth to people in all sorts of places. Every soul is important.

There may have been souls that walked close to us at one stage and perhaps are dispersed in different places, different countries, different counties.

But somehow God wants us to keep in contact with that soul, with that mind, with that heart, to shed a bit of light in the darkness that may be there, to help their formation.

“Everyone who does evil hates the light, and comes not to the light, but their works may not be approved. But he that does truth comes to the light, that his works may be made manifest, because they are done in God” (John 3:20-21).

In some way, every person is hungry for that truth that comes with the light.

They know they need it, they look for it, because “our hearts are restless, Lord, until they rest in you” (St. Augustine, Confessions).

“Jesus spoke to them saying, ‘I am the light of the world’”—Christ is the only light, the true light that enlightens everyone. “‘He that follows me walks not in darkness but shall have the light of life’” (John 8:12).

There is a light streaming from the tabernacle that lights up our lives, a light streaming from the cross.

Every day of our life we try to walk in that light and shed that light, not just in a vague sort of way, but in a powerful way.

There are different strengths of light. Some give off a lot of light, some may be fading a little bit, some of the bulbs might be gone.

Our Lord wants us to have our light burning brightly, our lamp, and on top of the lampstand. He doesn't put it under a couch, but he puts it on the lampstand, that they who enter may see the light.

People are looking for that light and they might be far away, but light shines in the darkness and in the distance, brings a ray of hope into people's lives. Hope can be a source of power.

Hope gives us power, gives all the people power, and all that comes from the light.

“This is the declaration,” says St. John, “which we have heard from him and declare unto you: that God is light; in him there is no darkness” (1 John 1:5).

It is a tremendous light that lights up the whole of the world.

“If we say we have fellowship with him and walk in darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he also is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanses us from all sins” (1 John 1:6-7).

There are great consequences of the light. And every day and every hour of our life, we have the opportunity to share that light—the light of love, the beauty of truth, in the things we say, in the things we do.

St. John says, “He that says he is in the light and hates his brother is in darkness even until now” (1 John 2:9).

“When you have the light, believe in the light, that you may be children of light” (1 John 12:35).

We are known and seen that we speak the truth, speak serious things. People around us should realize that there is something different in the things that we say, something different about the atmosphere around us: the fragrance of the truth, the true light that lights up the world.

Those that don't walk in the truth are somehow on the opposite. Christ gave in Judas that morsel of the last supper, and we are told that “he went out immediately. And it was night” (John 13:26-30).

Darkness fell over the whole of the world. The dark night of humanity. Sin had begun to do its work.

That light is only restored with the resurrection, Lumen Christi, the candle of Easter, the Easter candle, the Paschal Vigil, symbolic of the light of Christ.

“I have come, a light in the world, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness” (John 12:46).

In Isaiah it says, “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light; light has blazed forth (Isa. 9:2). On Christmas night we read these words of Isaiah. The Christ Child, divine love Incarnate, shines a light from Bethlehem.

The Christ Child, divine love Incarnate, shines a light from Bethlehem. There is a light streaming from there, a light by which people can see that they can go to heaven.

The world was in darkness until the coming of the light. “What has come into being in him was life,” says St. John. “Life that was the light of men. Light shines in darkness and darkness could not overpower it” (John 1:4-5).

“A man came sent by God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness to the light, so that everyone might believe through him” (John 1:6-7).

The Church illumines the world with the light of Christ.

Try to read the documents of the Holy Father, the Pastoral Letters of the bishops—there was another one recently—marvelous documents that shed light on current affairs, show us the way, point out good from evil, help us to see where to place our feet as we travel along the pilgrimage of faith, which is our vocation.

“May your light shine before men so that they see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:16).

We are called to reflect the light, a light that is not ours, the light of Christ. For that we have to draw near to the source of life, the source of light.

We come to be with Our Lord in the tabernacle, contemplate the cross—these weeks perhaps, to focus on the angels, the weeks of the angels, tidings of great joy that light up each little moment of our life.

When we spend time in prayer, then we reflect the light of Christ. Somehow, some of that light rubs off on us. We want to be close to Jesus. We have to be concerned to be a light for others, a gentle light that shows the way.

Some years ago, there were explorers in Alaska, and they discovered far back in the mountain a lake whose waters were always warm, even in the coldest winter months. You could catch plenty of fish there because the water was always cozy—cozy enough to swim in.

This strange lake hundreds of miles from the ocean, that's far away back in the mountains, but somehow there was an underground channel that was constantly feeding it and keeping it warm.

It was a real oasis of warmth and life amid the desolation of the Arctic winter.

Christ is like that lake. He's trustworthy. He's the fulfillment of His Father's promises. No matter how much this fallen world may cause us to suffer, no matter how cold the world may get, His love never weakens. His goodness never freezes over.

We all just have to draw close to the light. He'd bring a new warmth, a new light into our life.

The apostles whom Our Lord calls “the light of the world” (Matt. 5:14) were his friends. He entrusted that light to them to spread to the whole world. He gave them a series of ideas.

The apostles enlightened the world with the Gospel. Our Lord continues to want to spread the Gospel through a few people. Down through history, Our Lord has always counted on a small few to bring His light to the world, just as in Bethlehem: the Magi, the shepherds.

Now we are called to bring that truth and light to a certain small group of people in this talk, in that Circle, in that recollection, in this retreat, little by little, functioning with small groups.

If we are to be that light for others in all circumstances, we have to be close to Our Lord, taking care of our formation, those clear doctrinal ideas that Christ gave to His apostles, and He's now entrusted to us.

He continues to be a light on the cross and in the tabernacle. Our job is to lead others to the light, so they don't get lost in the dark periods of their life.

If ever we go through a bit of a dark period, we know the light is always there. And we know the true light.

Pope Francis has talked a little bit about the light that the world can offer us: flashing lights, but which are often “artificial lights.”

“Those lights,” he says, “may be very bright.” Sometimes they may seem to be brighter than the light of Christ, but they're somehow passive. They're bright like festive fireworks, he says, “bright like the flash of a camera” (Pope Francis, Homily, Sept. 3, 2013).

Instead, the light of Christ is meek. It's calm. It's a peaceful light. Our God is the God of peace.

That light was there on the first Christmas night, without any pretense. It offers and gives peace. “My peace I give you, my peace I bring to you” (John 14:27).

It's a meek light with the power of meekness. It's a light that speaks to the heart. It's also a light that offers the cross. It doesn't move us to run away from the cross.

In the Preface of Christmas (III), it says, “Today in him a new light has dawned upon the world”—Christ is always bringing new light—“God has become one with humanity, and we have become one again with God.”

The hymn of the carol, Silent Night, talks about “radiant beams from thy holy face.”

The theology of the body, reflected in the Christmas Preface, says, “In the wonder of the Incarnation your eternal Word has brought to the eyes of faith a new and radiant vision of your glory. In him we see our God made visible and so are caught up in love of the God we cannot see.”

We don't have to worry about the evil things that may appear in the world, or the pieces of news, or currents of thought, or practices that may be coming with all their unattractive force, because we know that we have the light, we have the truth.

God can overcome everything.

In the Incarnation, God took on our humanity. Through the Incarnation we have a God we can touch. God comes to us in the things we know best, a human body, and that of a baby.

The human body, said John Paul II, becomes important if the Word became flesh. We encounter God in the Word made flesh.

The only way, he says, to encounter the truth of our humanity is to encounter the Word made flesh.

When we encounter the light, we encounter the truth of our humanity, the truth of every human person, where we've come from, where we're going, and what life is all about.

The Word took on flesh, he says, not just for a time, but for eternity.

In Christ, we see the human face of God and the divine face of man. Man has a divine face.

Every person is important—the basis of the social teaching of the Church is the dignity of every human person—the great light that we have to give to the whole world.

“I am come as a light into the world,” says St. John, “so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness” (John 12:46).

“You are the light of the world. A city seated on a mountain cannot be hidden” (Matt. 5:14-15).

We're meant to make this light shine, to bring it to all sorts of places. We have to look for ways and means of making that light shine. We can put it on the lampstand so that they who enter may see the light.

Jesus, give me ideas on how we can spread your truth: perhaps in my one-on-one individual conversation with this person or that person, maybe in a letter I might write to a newspaper, or a phone call I might make to a radio program, or an article I might write with the passage of time.

I might never have written anything in my life, but maybe over time, we can learn how to write something and have an influence: the apostolate of public opinion.

St. Josemaría had a great vision in the 1960s of how important communication was going to become. The 21st century is very much the world of communication. Everything to do with presentation and communication becomes important.

In these areas, we have to shine the light of Christ, put the light on the lampstand.

Edith Stein said, “Before I converted, to seek the truth was my only prayer.” To seek the truth. She spent her whole life seeking the truth, seeking the light.

The light was drawing her on little by little because she was destined to become the patroness of Europe.

She says, “Come and drink from the springs of living water that the Savior releases to the thirsty, and that stream to eternal life. The Word has become flesh and lies before us in the form of a little newborn child” (St. Edith Stein, The Hidden Life).

We may come to Him and bring Him gifts, and then in the new year, we should go with Him the entire way of His life on earth.

“Every mystery of this life that we seek to discern in loving contemplation is for us a fount of eternal life” (Ibid.).

In the course of our life and vocation, we need to grow more in the light, taking care of our doctrinal formation, assimilating a little better the truths that are presented before us, the things we read.

Pope Benedict says, "When there is no truth, there is no justice.” Great things depend on that truth, on that light.

We live in a modern culture where one of the common ideas is that we should abolish truth because as soon as we have truth, we impose it on others.

In the States they talk about, “We don't want any moral absolutes. We don't want people telling us that certain things are always wrong because we don't want to be hedged in any way.”

But the truth is a pathway to the light. It shows us the way to live, it shows us the path to eternity, to the eternal wedding feast.

G.K. Chesterton says, “The truth is, of course, that the curtness of the Ten Commandments is evidence, not of the gloom and narrowness of religion, but, on the contrary of its liberality in humanity. It is shorter to state the things forbidden than the things permitted; precisely because most things are permitted, and only a few things are forbidden.”

The Ten Commandments shed a great light on the world, a pathway to happiness.

Misery comes from doing things that are wrong. Happiness comes from doing things that are right.

The Ten Commandments show us the pathway to happiness. St. Josemaría liked to say, “The whole apostolate of Opus Dei can be summed up in one idea: to give doctrine.” We try and clarify wrong ideas, we try and promote the truth, and give that light.

A Roman educator, Quintilian, in the early centuries, says that clarity of expression lights up the beauty of the world.

Clarity of expression. One of our jobs in the course of our lives is to try to improve our vocabulary, our phrases, the way we explain things, the way we communicate.

Any little effort to learn how to communicate better is time well spent: to write better emails or even WhatsApp messages, double-check them, or use different words here and there.

St. Josemaría was always writing down little words or phrases that he came across, because he knew those words or phrases could be the right vehicle to explain an idea.

In get-togethers and conversations with other people, we can always be on the lookout for attractive words and phrases that can be useful.

“To explain mankind's most elevated thoughts,” somebody said once, “was the great gift of Western philosophy's founding fathers, Socrates and Plato.” We're involved in explaining mankind's most elevated thoughts.

Hence, the importance of words and phrases, building up our vocabulary to bring that light of truth to many people.

It's interesting if we know certain buzzwords in tune with modern society to get our message across attractively, so that beauty is truly beautiful.

People find the right words and phrases to say things. The truth is often in exposing wrong ideas or wrong phrases.

That work of formation is a work of love. We do very little for the Church for not working at that formation, appreciating it, transmitting it.

We get a serious formation in Opus Dei to make a serious contribution to the world and society. We're not fly-by-nights.

It's a great gift. We're involved in the apostolate of light. We have this constant doctrinal formation.

“The truth is not afraid of questions,” somebody said once. “The question is, ‘Are you afraid of the truth?’”

It seems a pity when children are afraid of the dark. “The great tragedy,” said Plato, “is when men are afraid of the light.” We come to share a great light, a light that lights up the world in all sorts of ways.

There's a danger of weeds, of wrong ideas. G.K. Chesterton says, “Fallacies do not cease to be fallacies just because they become fashionable.”

Any wrong ideas or wrong things can easily become fashionable.

We're involved also in the apostolate of fashion; also in ideas, ways that people express things that can look very cool or very trendy but may hide wrong ideas.

Cardinal Newman liked to say that bad practice is based on confused and false principles. It's often by bitter experience that we finally see the truth.

Some people have to go through very rough periods in their lives before they see the truth, before they come to the light. It can be a pretty rough road.

God has given us the grace to know a lot about these truths and these lights at an early stage.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church says, “Strengthened by this mission, the apostles ‘went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by the signs that attended it’ (Mark 16:20)” (Catechism, Point 2).

The Lord has said some very dynamic words to us to spread the light:

“Put it on the lampstands. Have your lamp burning brightly” (Luke 12:35).

"Take oil in your lamps” (Matt. 25:4).

Use the opportunity. Every retreat, every annual course, every talk we attend—there's always something to learn.

In the Furrow, we're told that wise people realize there's always something to learn. If they didn't, they would “cease to be wise” (Josemaría Escrivá, Furrow, Point 272).

Every person, every child, everything we read, every encounter—we're always learning, because we know the Holy Spirit is always active.

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. Know I am with you always, to the close of the age” (Matt. 28:19-20).

This apostolate of spreading the light is a continuous apostolate. It doesn't cease at any moment, at any time of our life, until our dying day.

We can always be spreading that light with our words, with our truth, with our example. In that way, we become credible witnesses of His presence in the world. We give off light in the darkness that may surround us.

Our cultural formation is also very much involved in this. Things we read in our spare time—we're encouraged to read good things. We may have very little time to read, but then it’s all the more important that we read good things; expose ourselves to good things, good ideas.

When St. Paul went to Athens, he went to the Areopagus, sort of the crossroads of society, where people were saying all sorts of things, because that's where he wanted to influence (Acts 17:16-34).

As laypeople in the middle of the world, we're also meant to be at the crossroads of society.

Pope John Paul II has liked to say the world of communications is the crossroads of modern society (John Paul II, Apostolic Letter, Il rapido sviluppo (The Rapid Development), Jan. 24, 2005).

We could ask Our Lady that we might give great importance to this word “light” that we see frequently coming up in the Gospel.

“No one who has lighted a lamp covers it with a vessel, or puts it under a couch, but he puts it on the lampstand, that they who enter may see the light” (Luke 8:16).

There you may be very much involved in this whole apostolate of giving off light. Help us to grow in the light.

And like you, who are the Morning Star, may we turn to you frequently to make that light all the time more effective in us and through us.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

PKN