Advent in a dark world

Advent begins in the dark.

Not the cosy darkness softened by fairy lights and carols, but the kind the people of Israel knew well—long waiting, heavy oppression, unanswered prayers, and the aching silence of heaven. Scripture tells us, “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light” (Isaiah 9:2). That promise was spoken into suffering, not comfort.

We find ourselves in a similar place today. The world feels bruised, weary, and often confronting. A quiet grief lingers close to the surface as we live amid brokenness and pain.

Advent meets us here – in this tension – with a joy rooted in promise.

When the angels announced Jesus’ birth, they proclaimed “good news of great joy that will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10). Exceedingly great joy did not arrive because the world suddenly became safe or kind. Suffering did not vanish overnight. Joy came because God entered the darkness Himself.

John’s Gospel reminds us, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” This is the foundation of our joy. Darkness is real, but it is not ultimate. It does not win.

Advent joy is the quiet confidence that God is faithful. The promise of Advent is not that life will suddenly be easy, but that God is with us.

Emmanuel.

With us in the waiting. With us in the night.

And because of that, joy is possible.

This is Advent joy.

Hope born in the darkness. Light that cannot be extinguished. Exceedingly great joy, promised to a hurting world.