From Darkness into Light

Last night, Christmas Eve, Mark and I were at Christ Church Cathedral for the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols – one of those moments in the year when time seems to slow, and the familiar becomes newly luminous.

There is something deeply grounding about this service. The shape of it – scripture and music interwoven, moving steadily from darkness into light – never loses its power. Sitting so close to the choir was a real privilege. You could feel the sound as much as hear it: the breath before an entry, the blend settling, the way the building itself seems to join in. The Cathedral Choir sang with extraordinary clarity and warmth, from the quiet intimacy of This is the truth sent from above to the full-throated joy of Hark! the herald-angels sing. It reminded me just how much craft and care sit behind what can look, from a pew, effortless.

I was honoured to read the Third Lesson, from Isaiah: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” It is a passage I return to often, not just at Christmas. Read aloud, in that space, with the choir and congregation gathered in shared stillness, the words felt both ancient and insistently present. Light, peace, justice – not as abstract ideas, but as hopes we are called to carry, and to enact.

The service itself was rich in colour and texture, from the organ preludes before we began, through carols that spanned centuries, to the final blessing and rousing voluntary that sent us back out into the night. There was also a gentle reminder that this Cathedral is not just a place of beauty and tradition, but one that looks outward: the retiring collection supporting Asylum Welcome, quietly anchoring worship to welcome and compassion.

As we stepped back into the cold December air, the city felt calmer, hushed, almost expectant. A good way to begin Christmas. As ever, my thanks to all who made the service what it was – and to Mark, for sharing it with me.

A very happy Christmas.