In every age, the faithful are summoned to walk with Christ through a world that is veiled by shadow. The roar of conflict, the pull of temptation, and the ache of sorrow may persuade the heart that the Gospel’s radiance has dimmed. Yet our Lord declares, “I am the light of the world: he that follows me shall not walk in the darkness, but shall have the light of life.” (John 8:12). The Church teaches that to follow Christ does not exempt us from the wounds of this fallen age; it assures us that His nearness hallows even the darkest places. “The Lord is my light and my saviour; whom shall I fear?” (Psalm 26:1, LXX). In Him, night is not denied but illumined.

Remember, we never make this journey alone. We walk as living members of Christ’s Body, the Church, a communion stretching from the holy Apostles to the last baptised child. The Holy Mysteries steady our steps. In the Divine Liturgy, we receive not a figure but the very Body and Blood of our Saviour, our medicine of immortality and the fire that warms cold hearts. In Confession, we bring our fractures to the Physician of souls, who restores us with mercy and sends us out reconciled. To stand among the faithful, to hear the psalms and hymns, to venerate the holy icons—these are not small gestures. They train the gaze to remain upon Christ when the world scatters attention. “Your word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path” (Psalm 118/119:105).

The Apostolic life teaches us to keep watch. We are to guard the heart through prayer, fasting, and alms-giving. The Jesus Prayer—“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”—settles the mind and steadies the breath, letting Christ’s light enter the hidden chambers where fear and resentment often lodge. Fasting makes space for the poor and for God; alms-giving breaks the tyranny of self. Through these humble obediences the Spirit softens the will, and the countenance of Christ becomes recognisable in neighbours we might otherwise overlook. “Seeing it is God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, who shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6).

Courage and charity are required when the night seems thick. The Lord names us “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world” (Matthew 5:13–14); this is a vocation. We resist the seduction of cynicism by forgiving injuries, blessing those who curse, and defending the weak. We tend the elderly, visit the sick, welcome the stranger, and speak truth without rancour. Such fidelity may appear small, but it is never wasted. Every quiet kindness is a candle lifted, every act of mercy a window opened to the Kingdom already at work among us. “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil by good” (Romans 12:21).

Our tradition also bids us read the times without panic. The prophets remind us that God’s purposes ripen patiently. “The people that walked in darkness, have seen a great light” (Isaiah 9:2); this was true in the days of the Messiah’s appearing, and it is true whenever His Church bears faithful witness. Scripture and the Fathers teach sober hope, not naïveté. We name sin for what it is; we repent of our own; and we pray for rulers and nations, trusting the Lord to judge rightly. In perplexity we return to the Liturgy, to the Psalter, and to the counsel of a wise confessor, knowing that the Spirit does not abandon those who ask, seek, and knock.

Suffering, too, is not wasted in Christ. The Cross once seemed the triumph of darkness; yet from that hour sprang a light that does not fade. In our wounds and losses, grace is offered— patience in illness, steadfastness in grief, meekness under reproach. These, joined to Christ’s Passion, become places of encounter. We take heart from St. Paul the Apostle’s promise, “My grace is sufficient for you: for power is made perfect in infirmity” (2 Corinthians 12:9). We also remember the disciples on the road to Emmaus, whose desolation was turned to fire. “Was not our heart burning within us, whilst he spoke in the way, and opened to us the scriptures?” (Luke 24:32).

To walk with Christ, then, is to entrust the whole of life to His providence and to keep walking—step by step, prayer by prayer, day by day. We cast our anxieties upon Him, “for he has care of you” (1 Peter 5:7). We continue to bless, to forgive, to pray, to fast, to give. We keep vigil with the saints and ask their intercessions, for they have walked this path before us and now stand where the light is full. “And the light shines in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:5). In that confidence, we press on together, until the dawn breaks and the Daystar rises in every heart (2 Peter 1:19).

May God bless you +

Fr. Charles
11 October 2025