Joint Message from the Bishops of Limerick
Bishop Donal Murray and Bishop Michael Mayes

A GREAT LIGHT

Is it only three years since we welcomed a new millennium with such high hopes? In the 
meantime, we have seen scandals and disillusionment; we have experienced an economic 
slowdown; the threat of war looms in Iraq; violence continues unabated in the Holy Land; 
famines and disasters have blighted many lives, and we have seen a day – September 11th – 
that will be forever remembered with horror.  It is a darker world than our millennial 
optimism anticipated.

On Christmas Eve, according to an old Irish custom, a candle burns in the window of many 
houses. It shines out in welcome to the Holy Family. More profoundly, it echoes the words 
of St John: "Light shines in darkness and darkness could not overpower it… The Word was 
the real light that gives light to everyone; he was coming into the world" (Jn 1:5, 9).

In the dark the light of a candle can easily be seen a hundred metres away, whereas at 
midday it would only be noticed if one was right beside it. The power of light is, 
paradoxically, more easily seen when it shines in darkness. 

At Christmas, the words of Isaiah are particularly apt: "The people that walked in darkness 
have seen a great light" (Is 9:1).  

Unless we are in the dark we will not be able to recognise how powerful the light is. Unless 
we see the smallness and weakness of the Infant we will not appreciate the wonder of who this 
dependent and vulnerable Child is – the almighty Son of God by whom all things were made.

Those of us who have the great blessing of being able to look back on a happy childhood 
remember Christmas as a time of light, enjoyment and exhilaration. Even then, however, a 
great deal of the imagery was associated with night time – the star in the east, the candles, 
the Christmas lights, and of course the arrival of Santa Claus.

As we grow older, this Christmas paradox of darkness and light becomes deeper and truer. The 
longer we live the more our celebration brings its own particular tone of sadness. We remember 
those who have died and who were so essential a part of our past Christmases; we recall 
disillusionment and broken friendships and times of anguish; we miss absent family members 
and friends; we know how painful and how cruel a place the world can be; we dread the 
uncertainty of a future in which our greatest fears, and worse, may be realised.  

For adults the darkness is not like that of a child’s Christmas night, concealing only 
wonderful surprises. For us the darkness seems more likely to be filled with threat and 
danger. 

That awareness of the worlds’ darkness does not mean that the light and joy that we try to 
ensure for the children is in any way false. On the contrary, Christmas means that as we 
become more aware of the darkness we also become more aware that the light of Christ is 
stronger than we ever imagined and that no darkness can overcome it.  

The happiness of Christmas, which we try to share with children, as our parents and grandparents 
did with us, is not make-believe; it is stronger than all the fear and pain that we may face. 
When we see the simple joy of children, it often raises a poignant question mark about what 
life may hold for them.  The celebration of Christmas assures us that we are right to encourage 
their joy. The darkness cannot overpower the light. That is the real meaning of the hope and 
happiness and love that unite us at Christmas: "If we walk in the light as he himself is in 
the light, we have fellowship with one another (I Jn 1:7).  


Ends
December 2002