Everyone who saw the risen Jesus saw him after. Whatever happened in the cave happened in the dark. As many years as I have been listening to Easter sermons. I have never heard anyone talk about that part. Resurrection is always announced with Easter lilies, the sound of trumpets, bright streaming light. But it did not happen that way. It if happened in a cave, it happened in complete silence, in absolute darkness, with the smell of damp stone and dug earth in the air… Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark. - Brenda Brown Taylor “Learning to Walk in the Dark”
What does darkness have to do with the Christmas season?
I have sat with and mulled over the word and concept of darkness for some time now. Darkness is a space we’ve been humanly trained to fear, cast out, and flee from. The place of darkness often holds fears that wait until the lights are out to manifest. Our worst nightmares come to life in our minds when all is quiet and the lights have darkened. We are scared of the dark in a literal sense, figurative, and spiritual one as well1.
So, as we sit and gaze at the Christmas lights, holiday gatherings, and hear radios that play endless rounds of Christmas songs—let’s look a little deeper and notice the darkness of what this season holds.
Darkness doesn’t have to stir a sense of fear.
Darkness holds life.
The hope of Salvation began in the dark.
If you’re a believer (and even if you’re not) it’s impossible to get around the fact that the Christmas season brings more reminders of the incarnate, baby Jesus than any other time of the year. However, Jesus didn’t just transition from Heaven to a manger or Heaven to a grown man—He grew in the darkness of a womb first.
I’m currently nearing the end of my fourth (out of five) pregnancies that have fallen over the month of December. The fact and depth of walking within the Advent season of expansion and new life, while also bearing my own child is never lost to me. It is holy ground to hold new life as it forms, wiggles, and grows in the hidden, dark space of the womb. Jesus began His life and work on this earth in the dark. The womb of the willing teenager He was carried in allowed His human body to form into the Savior we read about in the Bible.
He allowed Himself to be in darkness in order for His body to be nourished. He let the darkness provide the safety He needed for His lungs to take shape, the chambers of His heart to pump blood, and for His toes to form.
Darkness held the Light of the world.
I love when we look deeper into the Genesis 1 creation story, we are met with every aspect of creation’s initial forming and coming to life. There are some words though, which I think we often skip over in the very first verse:
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.
God was already a God of the darkness. He didn’t create the darkness. Darkness didn’t surprise Him at some point or throw off His glorious creation plans—it already was. He’s always been a God who dwelled in the darkness, and a God who created light. He named these two entities as “good.” We so often only look to and hold on to the light of Jesus we long to see in our lives, yet we often forget that His holiness resided in the quiet darkness before the creation of light. They are both holy ground.
If we then fast forward to what seemed like the end of Jesus and His work on this earth—all outlooks seemed pretty bleak after His death as He lay lifeless in the tomb his friends had tenderly laid Him in. The tomb was dark—it was literally the deep darkness of a cave, and spiritually it seemed to human eyes that the Messiah Jesus had been defeated.
Yet, Jesus breathed His resurrection life—beginning in the dark.
The first inhales and exhales of resurrection life were taken in the darkness of a tomb.
He rose.
He conquered death.
He defeated the “darkness” that sin infiltrates our hearts with.
I imagine the sacred space of the tomb where He sat and breathed new life was a reminder of the quiet space before the creation of the world—where the Trinity dwelled in holiness together.
New life didn’t come only when Jesus was pushed through the birth canal to be born into the light, and it didn’t come only when He rolled the stone away on that glorious resurrection morning. The darkness our Savior dwelled in held an indescribably holy space—where death becomes life.
So where does all this leave us in the middle of a full Christmas season?
We are pulled in so many directions during this time of year—Christmas light watching, holiday caroling (does anyone do this anymore?), work deadlines, family Christmas movie nights, holiday parties, shopping trips, present purchasing, end-of-year giving, and the list could go on and on. We are so often distracted and busy in this holiday season that we don’t make the time (or sometimes have the desire) to slow down and notice what is going on in our hearts.
Where in your life does it feel as if you’re sitting in darkness?
Your family relationships
Your grief
The job you didn’t get
The child who doesn’t speak to you
Your marriage
Your apathy towards God
Your finances
The daunting oncoming of a new year
Unexpected loss
Prayers that have gone unanswered
Doubts that cloud your prayers
Deeply rooted fears
In this season of cultural hurry, we don’t slow down enough to let our eyes adjust to the darkness we are experiencing in areas of our life. We press on. We ignore. We check off one more item on the to-do list. I wonder if these dark spaces hold invitations of experiencing God’s quiet, holy presence? It’s easier to wrap another gift than to sit in the grief of missing the family member that isn’t there to give the gift to. It’s easier to look ahead at the coming year, make our lists, set our goals—instead of peeling back the reality of the anxiety and fear driving those resolutions. It’s easier to attend a Christmas party and laugh, than hold space for our own hearts that don’t actually feel joyful.
Sometimes discovering God’s company in the darkness is what we need more than a light to help us see in the darkness. - Vanita Hampton Wright2
It would have been easier for Jesus to just come to earth as a full human. He wouldn’t have had to form in the darkness of the womb. He wouldn’t have had to go through the birthing process or be a helpless baby—who needed to grow and learn in human form. It would have been much easier if He just defeated sin with a single word, and not choosing to give His own life in the most gruesome, painful way. The easy choice was not the way of Jesus—the way of Jesus is new life.
Where is Jesus inviting you to experience His breath of new life in the darkness?
What if the presence of darkness doesn’t mean the increase of evil or the absence of God—but an invitation to His greater trust and knowing in the dark?
I would encourage you to open the door of gentleness for yourself in this season. The painful areas of your life that feel so dark and unseen—hold the hopeful potential for new life to be formed.
May we hold the forming of new life tenderly.
May we experience the love of Jesus in His weaving of new life in our mundane living.
May we slow down long enough to breathe the inhales and exhales of new life in Him.
May we notice how He is inviting us to dwell with Him in the darkness.
May we not be only focused on moving into the light, but letting God hold us where we are.
May we experience the hope that our darkness holds new life—because of Jesus.
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I am not diminishing the fact that Satan roams around our world. There is very real spiritual darkness in our world that is present and active. This post today is not diving into the realm of spiritual darkness, but more so holding the questions of—what brings us to such fear in the night when we have a God that created both the day and night?
If you’re looking for a book with invitations to notice God’s presence in the everyday moments of life—Vanita’s book, “Small Simple Ways” is such a good one!
This is beautiful, Brianna! I've been meditating how the way of Jesus was not to swoop in and save like an untouchable superhero, but to live every experience of what it means to be human. The idea of Jesus born– even formed!– in darkness makes the mercy of the incarnation even deeper for me. Thank you, friend!
Beautiful! I had never reflected before how Jesus was born in the darkness and all that means for us.