Seeing Further in the Darkness
I am living in darkness. I wake up to darkness, go to work, come home and go to sleep in the dark. During this time of year, I am reminded of how deeply human it is to long for light. When I need to concentrate, I often light a candle. I find it astonishing how even the smallest flame can help us see just a little farther, revealing what is hidden and stirring hope. Advent invites us into that longing. Not to run from the darkness, but to watch for the light that grows slowly, week by week.
When I was a child, the Advent wreath was iconic. We used it in school and I saw it at church, but never at home. Only in recent years did I start the practice in my own home. Yet even then, I never seemed to complete the season — I would fall off before the last candle was lit. That unfinished wreath became, in many ways, a symbol of my spiritual life at the time — earnest but inconsistent, hopeful but easily distracted.
It was not until just a few days ago while I was teaching RCIA at my parish that something shifted. I was illustrating that while we were completing another cycle and starting a new liturgical year, it is not an aimless orbit. Rather, it is a spiral, with each rotation getting us a little closer to the centre, which is Jesus. While explaining the three dimensions of Advent — the past, present, and future — I realized that I myself had only been living two of them. I reflected often on Christ’s first coming in history, and on His presence with us now in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist. But I rarely thought about the third — His coming again in glory at the end of time. As I taught, I reminded others that each candle on the Advent wreath is a sign of the increasing brightness of salvation history, guiding us from promise to fulfillment. And in doing so, I reminded myself.
This year, Advent has become more than a season of waiting or preparation. It has become a season of hope. Hope that God continues to break into our lives. Hope that Christ is already at work in our world, even when we cannot fully see it. Hope that the story is still unfolding, and that the final chapter is one of glory. In this Year of Jubilee, as “Pilgrims of Hope,” it is all the more fitting for us to reflect on how we can bring the gift of hope to others.
So I am starting simply; by ensuring the Advent wreath candles burn brightly every week. This small act has become my way of recommitting to all three dimensions of the season — remembering Christ’s coming in the past, encountering Him in the present, and preparing my heart for His coming in the future. As that light grows in my home, I pray it grows in me as well.
How are we living as a people of hope this Advent? Where are we bringing Christ’s light into the world? For me, it begins with a flame — small, steady, and faithful — inviting me to see a little farther and to believe, once again, that the darkness is never the final word.
Neil Yapp is the Communications Manager for the Archdiocese of Toronto’s Office of Public Relations & Communications.
