Light in the darkness
Jubilee Preaching Aid for December 21, 2025
Readings for the Fourth Sunday of Advent
- Isaiah 7:10-16
- Psalm 80: 1-7, 17-19
- Romans 1:1-7
- Matthew 1:18–25
For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, we are approaching the Longest Night — that quiet turning point when darkness seems to have claimed the world, yet the light begins to return. Even as we stand in shadow, somehow, beyond what our eyes can strain to see, something new is already stirring. The readings from Isaiah and Matthew speak into this darkness and perceive that first glimpse of light.
In Isaiah’s time, King Ahaz faced invasion and fear. The people of Judah were anxious and uncertain about the future. Into that fear, the prophet brought a surprising word of promise:
“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel.” (Isaiah 7:14)
This was not a promise of military victory or political strategy, but of presence — the assurance that God had not abandoned them. Even in fear and instability, God was with them. Because that is what the name “Immanuel” translates into from the Hebrew – “God with us”.
Centuries later, another person of faith faced their own long night. Joseph discovered that Mary was expecting a child, and his world collapsed into confusion. He resolved to end the engagement quietly until a divine messenger appeared in a dream:
“Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:20–21)
Matthew tells us,
“All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ (which means ‘God with us’).” (Matthew 1:22–23)
Two stories, separated by centuries, yet both proclaim the same hope: that in the midst of fear and uncertainty, God is still present, still bringing light.
For many today, the Longest Night is more than a date on the calendar. It is the darkness of communities burdened by unjust debt and poverty that seems intractable. It is the weariness of peoples who continue to live with the legacies of colonization and inequality. It is the shadow that falls over creation itself — where forests are cut down, waters poisoned, ecosystems disrupted, and the earth crying out for rest.
But into all of this, the Spirit still whispers: “Do not be afraid.” Because God tells us there will be light.
The ancient practice of Jubilee was God’s gift for such times of imbalance and fatigue. In Leviticus 25, the people of Israel were commanded to proclaim a year of Jubilee every fifty years — a time when debts were forgiven, enslaved people were freed and land was restored. It was a profound act of justice and renewal, declaring that all life and all land ultimately belong to God. Jubilee was God’s way of teaching the people to live in right relationship — with one another, with the earth, and with the Creator.
In this Jubilee year of 2025, people of faith around the world are reclaiming that vision through the campaign Jubilee 2025: Turn Debt into Hope. This campaign calls for wealthy nations to cancel the unjust debts that keep poorer nations trapped in poverty, so resources can instead support healthcare, education and climate resilience. It insists that economies should serve life rather than exploit it and that ecological repair is a sacred responsibility, not an optional cause. It calls for decolonization – to return stolen land to be its rightful owners.
This movement is a modern echo of the divine command to “proclaim liberty throughout the land” (Leviticus 25:10). To turn debt into hope is to live out what Immanuel means — to act as though God’s presence is real, transforming systems of oppression into communities of restoration.
Yet Jubilee is not only about transforming nations and breaking down oppressive power structures. It invites each of us to ask: what debts or burdens weigh down our lives or our relationships? Where do we need to forgive, release or begin again? How might we let the land — and our own spirits — rest?
The promise of Immanuel does not mean the darkness disappears. It means that the darkness is not empty. God is already there — in the confusion of Joseph’s dream, in the courage of Mary’s “yes,” in the cry of a newborn child, and in every act of compassion and justice that brings light into the world.
So, as we stand at the edge of the Longest Night, may we trust that even nowadays, light is being born in the darkest times. May we live as people of Jubilee — forgiving, restoring, healing and hoping. May we join our voices with all creation in proclaiming:
A child will be born. Hope will take flesh. God is with us.
And as John’s Gospel reminds us:
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5). Amen.
Rev. Marianne Emig Carr is a minister in the Presbyterian Church in Canada (PCC), serving the two-point Brockville-Caintown Pastoral Charge in Eastern Ontario. Marianne serves on the Steering Committee of KAIROS, is a member of the PCC Ecumenical and Interfaith Relations Committee and has been actively involved in refugee sponsorship efforts.
