Make no mistake, these are dark days.
The last 24 hours have reminded us that we live in a land of deep darkness—a place where death comes close. It is always close in one way or another, but it’s not normally like this—not in Australia. This was on our soil, at a familiar place, a place which is close to people we know and love.
Yesterday, two people walking in darkness foisted darkness at countless others. Only God knows how long those dark days will last for the people who were on the scene. Some physically succumbed to the darkness thrown at them. The rest will go on and relive the moment over and over again.
Those who weren’t there will feel the darkness as they watch the images, hear the stories of the victims, and imagine what it would have been like if they were in the middle of it. We at Restoration Church, know what it is like to live through dark days too. We know what it is like to have darkness forced upon us.
While darkness is powerfully suffocating, scientifically speaking, it has a natural enemy—light. Whenever the two come up against one another, darkness loses. Every. Single. Time. The brighter the light, the more the darkness is dispelled. It’s more maths than mystery.
Jesus is the great light who moves towards darkness. About 2,000 years ago, he took on human flesh and literally set up camp in our dark world. He didn’t walk in darkness, but he lived in it alongside us. In the end, he became a victim of it. The very ones who claimed to be in right relationship with God took him down. He was the ultimate innocent victim.
It was a dark day that day—literally. When the light of the world was snuffed out, so was the sun, for three long hours. It was a visceral darkness, a sign that something profound was taking place. The centurion watching on was right: Jesus was no ordinary person and this was no ordinary execution.
Jesus was working on an invisible peace—a relational peace, a peace between humanity and God—the essential precursor to every other kind of peace. A kind of peace which renders warriors’ garments, boots, and weapons unnecessary. A vertical peace, if you like, which makes horizontal peace between people inevitable.
So we pray for calm. We pray for peace. And we pray for justice and comfort for those who are suffering. But we pray deeper than that. We pray that all those involved in this tragedy—and the rest of our country—will see the great light, Jesus himself, in the midst of the darkness.
And we dare to dream that this Christmas, peace would break out across our land.
The last 24 hours have reminded us that we live in a land of deep darkness—a place where death comes close. It is always close in one way or another, but it’s not normally like this—not in Australia. This was on our soil, at a familiar place, a place which is close to people we know and love.
Yesterday, two people walking in darkness foisted darkness at countless others. Only God knows how long those dark days will last for the people who were on the scene. Some physically succumbed to the darkness thrown at them. The rest will go on and relive the moment over and over again.
Those who weren’t there will feel the darkness as they watch the images, hear the stories of the victims, and imagine what it would have been like if they were in the middle of it. We at Restoration Church, know what it is like to live through dark days too. We know what it is like to have darkness forced upon us.
While darkness is powerfully suffocating, scientifically speaking, it has a natural enemy—light. Whenever the two come up against one another, darkness loses. Every. Single. Time. The brighter the light, the more the darkness is dispelled. It’s more maths than mystery.
Jesus is the great light who moves towards darkness. About 2,000 years ago, he took on human flesh and literally set up camp in our dark world. He didn’t walk in darkness, but he lived in it alongside us. In the end, he became a victim of it. The very ones who claimed to be in right relationship with God took him down. He was the ultimate innocent victim.
It was a dark day that day—literally. When the light of the world was snuffed out, so was the sun, for three long hours. It was a visceral darkness, a sign that something profound was taking place. The centurion watching on was right: Jesus was no ordinary person and this was no ordinary execution.
Jesus was working on an invisible peace—a relational peace, a peace between humanity and God—the essential precursor to every other kind of peace. A kind of peace which renders warriors’ garments, boots, and weapons unnecessary. A vertical peace, if you like, which makes horizontal peace between people inevitable.
So we pray for calm. We pray for peace. And we pray for justice and comfort for those who are suffering. But we pray deeper than that. We pray that all those involved in this tragedy—and the rest of our country—will see the great light, Jesus himself, in the midst of the darkness.
And we dare to dream that this Christmas, peace would break out across our land.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.
Isaiah 9:2 (NIV)