In her New York Times op-ed, “Looking for Light on the Longest Night of the Year,” Margaret Renkl, writing at the beginning of the winter solstice on December 21, the shortest day and longest night of the year, remarked that “since long before Jews began to celebrate Hanukkah and Christians began to celebrate Christmas, ancient peoples across the Northern Hemisphere marked the arrival of the winter solstice [with] rituals meant to summon the sun or rejoice at its rebirth.” Observing the candlelight flickering from the menorah merging with the campfire she and her friends gathered around to celebrate Hanukkah, she thought about “how comforting it is that this season of lights always coincides with the darkest time of the year.”

As is my custom on Christmas morning—which comes quickly after a late-night Mass and starts early in preparation for Mass and other things to tend to on Christmas Day—I hit the streets and run early, usually before sunrise. This Christmas morning was no different. And on one of the darkest mornings of one of the darkest years in recent history, the virtually empty city streets were well lit by both street lamps and Christmas lights, such as on the Green, in shop windows and in every kind of home in every kind of neighborhood. I couldn’t help but think that while I was running alone on these quiet roads, the lights seemed to indicate that I was joined by the many who have been keeping vigil and keeping the flames of faith throughout this year, throughout this season—and unto this new dawn—to welcome the newborn King of Kings.

I was thinking about Renkl’s examples, such as a vaccine on the way, a global community beginning to respond to a global climate catastrophe, a day coming when “we will sit around tables together again, read books among strangers in coffeehouses and sing out loud in church and concerts again,” which remind us that there is a small flicker of light, even now. And with the start of this new season, although characterized by the darkness, “tomorrow will be brighter, and the next day will be brighter still; the sky will begin to brighten earlier, the light will linger longer in the evening and it will give us hope and help us to hold on.”

As I turned off Chapel Street and up Park Street, passing Pierson College, I was struck by the resiliently festive Christmas trees twinkling from within the darkened Golden Center and, the bright shining Star on our balcony and the lamps illuminating our piazza. Under the soft glow of the lamps hung our Advent 2020 banners, displaying these words from John’s Gospel: “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.”

Running on Faith will take a brief break for the holidays and will return on Thursday, January 21, 2021.