Light in the Darkness

As we were cleaning up last Sunday after our Christmas and farewell to the Wintles dinner at church, a congregation member came into the church kitchen to tell me that there’d been shooting in Bondi.  “Not Bondi”, I thought to myself.  “Not a shooting…”.  I went home and turned on the TV.  There was coverage all over the news channels.  An attack on Jewish people at Bondi Beach during Hanukkah — a festival that celebrates light, faithfulness, and God’s presence in the midst of darkness. What was supposed to be a festival of joy and remembrance, had turned into death, fear, grief, mourning and deep unease: our city finds itself shaken. Many are asking again: Where is God when something like this happens? Does God see? Does God care?

These are human questions. They are the questions of a city walking through what the psalmist calls “the valley of the shadow of death.” And Sydney feels like it is walking through such a valley at the moment as a pall of darkness hangs over our city.

Psalm 23 begins with a quiet, personal confession: “The Lord is my shepherd.” The Lord — the covenant God of Israel — isn’t distant or indifferent. He is near, attentive, and deeply involved with his people. The image of a shepherd is tender and reassuring: caring, guiding, and promise.

And the promise is true in every place and every circumstance - not only for those of us who watched the aftermath of this horrific event from a place of safety, but also for those who were directly targeted, frightened, and wounded by hatred. The Shepherd sees. The Shepherd knows. The Shepherd remains present.

Yet Psalm 23 is also honest. The promise is that the Shepherd “guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.” God’s work in us is about faithfulness. Even when suffering comes through the actions of others, God doesn’t abandon his people. He walks with them, shaping endurance and hope in ways we often only recognise later.

The psalm continues: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” Valleys are dark places — places of grief, confusion, and vulnerability. Many in our Jewish community are walking through such a valley now, and as a city, we walk with them. The promise of the psalm is not that the valley disappears, but that God’s presence does not.

At this time of year, Christians also hear another promise that speaks powerfully into this moment. In John’s Gospel we are told of Jesus: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). Christmas proclaims that God does not remain distant from human pain. He enters into it. In Jesus, light comes into a world already scarred by violence, fear, and division — and that light is not extinguished.

We have in Jesus – our Emmanuel; the light that has come into the world, a quiet, stubborn hope that darkness does not have the final word. The God who brought light into the world at creation, who sustained his people through exile and persecution, and who revealed himself fully in Jesus Christ, is still at work — even when the night feels long.

Jesus later calls himself the Good Shepherd, the one who lays down his life for the sheep. In a world marked by violence, Jesus responds not with retaliation, but with self-giving love. He confronts darkness by overcoming it through the cross.

Its natural in moments like this for us to feel fear or even hatred, but as followers of Jesus we must turn to our God in prayer, and seek compassion. We stand alongside our Jewish neighbours. We grieve with those who grieve. We reject antisemitism and all forms of hatred. And we bear witness, gently and faithfully, to the light that has come into the world.

The events of last Sunday are an all too painful reminder that we are still longing for the fullness of God’s kingdom. But as we’ve heard throughout this season of Advent and as we shall hear this next week of Christmas, in the words of Isaiah the prophet:

2 The people walking in darkness
    have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
    a light has dawned.

For us living this side of the Cross the light has already come — in the person of Jesus, the one of whom Isaiah went on to say:

6 For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

And it’s in Jesus, our Prince of Peace that the light continues to shine.

May we be a people who continue to trust the Shepherd in the valley, and who hold fast to the promise that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.