A New Light Has Dawned
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”
– Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
In his book Night, Eliezer Wiesel tells the story of his time in the Buchenwald concentration camp. Wiesel was born and raised in an Orthodox Jewish household in modern Romania, and he was a devout student of the Torah. But Buchenwald changed everything: he lost his family, he lost his faith, and he lost all hope.
Wiesel writes:
Never shall I forget that first night, the first night in camp, that turned my life into one long night seven times sealed.
Never shall I forget that smoke … those flames … the nocturnal silence … the moments [of grief]. …
Never shall I forget those things, even if I were condemned to live as long as God Himself.
Never.
For Wiesel, all seemed lost as his world fell apart. He spent the rest of his life reflecting and writing on that experience, and seeking to make sure it would never happen to anyone else ever again. Later, while speaking about the novel’s re-release, he stated, “Everything came to an end – man, history, literature, religion, God. There was nothing left. And yet we begin again with night.”
Night. It can seem like a dangerous thing, can’t it? That inky darkness that covers and seemingly consumes the world. I mean, it’s not the things that go bump in the daylight, but the things that go bump in the night.
Who’s afraid of the dark? Well, a lot of us! And more of us would be if we thought about it long enough.
But night isn’t just about physical darkness. No, it is often used in movies, books, and art as a metaphor for danger, for evil, for the unknown and uncontrollable. In Star Wars, it is the Dark Side. In Moana, Te Ka is the inky, malevolent lava monster while Te Fiti is full of life and light. In Middle Earth, it’s the destruction wrought by Sauron as he seeks to devour the world. Darkness often stands for chaos, mystery, destruction, evil, death.
And we live in a world full of darkness, don’t we? From pandemics to opioid epidemics; from threats of war and hidden genocide; from broken homes to broken promises to broken dreams; children going to bed hungry and women going to bed afraid; people losing homes and hopes and dreams; racism and classism and sexism. We live in a dark world, a world in which night seems to reign.
But into the darkness, God sends his light. It’s what he has been doing since the beginning. “Let there be light” were the first words spoken, a promise that God will overcome darkness and despair.
In Isaiah, God is speaking to people about to be sent into exile for the darkness they were creating. It was a time full of darkness:
Political darkness, in which foreign nations allied against them, and their own kings practiced violence and oppression against their own people.
Physical darkness as the armies of foreign nations descended on their land, killing and pillaging and burning what they left behind.
Spiritual darkness, in which the people pursued idolatry, practiced spiritism, consulted the dead, and generally ignored God while killing his prophets.
At least, that’s how Isaiah describes it in Isaiah 1-8. He summarizes their “night” like this:
Consult God’s instruction and the testimony of warning. If anyone does not speak according to this word, they have no light of dawn. Distressed and hungry, they will roam through the land; when they are famished, they will become enraged and, looking upward, will curse their king and their God. Then they will look toward the earth and see only distress and darkness and fearful gloom, and they will be thrust into utter darkness. (8:20-22)
Distress, hunger, rage, curse, darkness, grief, and gloom … they had no light. Indeed, Wiesel’s quote might fit very well for Isaiah’s time period, too: “Everything came to an end – man, history, literature, religion, God. There was nothing left. And yet we begin again with night.”
But, just when all seems lost, Isaiah shifts gears with “nevertheless.” Your translation might have a synonym like “but” or “and yet.” Regardless of word choice, Isaiah brings a message of hope.
Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress. In the past he humbled the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the future he will honor Galilee of the nations, by the Way of the Sea, beyond the Jordan—
The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.
(Isa. 9:1-2)
Night is ending; light is coming! Darkness is going to be defeated as a new light dawns. Those who have been hopeless will live with hope! Those who have been weighed down with despair will leap with joy! Those who have been oppressed will have freedom! Those who have only known war will now taste peace. Light is breaking forth as darkness is dispelled, and the world is made right.
For those who have lived in darkness, this message would be almost too good to be true. How is this going to happen? Who is going to save us from this night and usher in the light?
Isaiah’s response is audacious, grandiose, seemingly impossible, and can only be accomplished by God himself: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given.”
This little child, a newborn babe from God himself, is the one who is going to cause the light to break forth. And what an incredible series of titles he is given! [1] Imagine that business card: “Wonderful Counselor; Mighty God; Everlasting Father; and Prince of Peace.”
God chooses to overcome despair with hope, darkness with light, destruction through the birth of a child. That is a message of hope we need this Christmas season, and a beautiful reminder for every day of our lives.
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[1] These are often called “throne-names” and were common in the ANE.
