I’ve always loved the beginning words from the first reading of the Midnight Mass, The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. But this year they have acquired a new meaning. I have come to understand that for those who are in darkness, a small gentle light is a great light. In fact, a great big light would blind us. This is why Jesus came as a gentle, humble, and loving light, ready to warm our hearts without overwhelming us. As St Bernard wrote, He wanted to be our brother before becoming our Savior, one with us even in the humble fragility of our flesh! I need to remember to look for his gentle light ever present, even during the darkest hours, because his light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (Jn. 1:5). In its apparent weakness and vulnerability, his light will never die out, because it’s fed by the love of the Father and the Holy Spirit. Christ, our sweet hope, let your light shine on us, reenkindle your light and life within us so th
Toward the end of the Rule of St Benedict, there is a short chapter that can easily go unnoticed, but which is a perfect application of the Gospel: Assignment of impossible tasks to a brother (RB 68). Benedict knew well that if we want to follow the Gospel, sooner or later, we will be confronted with the fact that we are asked to do something that feels impossible to us. Do you what to know if you are really following Jesus and not a decaffeinated version of his message? You can ask yourself this question: does being faithful to your Christian calling feel impossible at times? If your answer is “yes,” you are on the right track because this is how it should feel—Peter trying to walk on water is a good example. St Bernard puts it very simply, As long as a man is without experience in the spiritual combat, he thinks that what is asked of him is easy ( Sermons on Conversion 8). What then? Are we called to be Christian superheroes? No, the path of the Gospel is for those who recogni