The Light Shines in the Darkness

A homily at DuBois Central Catholic

Editor’s Note: Fr. Ben Daghir preached this homily at an All-School Mass at DuBois Central Catholic on February 18, 2025. The homily focuses on what a priest wears and what this means for living as a Christian.

In the Gospel of John, we just heard, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

You can see that I wear the priest's uniform. Our uniforms are almost all black, with just a touch of white. Why is that?

You've probably seen a priest walking down the hallway, in the cafeteria, or at Mass, dressed in black with a white collar. Maybe you've wondered, "Why do priests dress this way?" These clothes are not just a uniform; they reflect our mission as priests and, more importantly, what it means to be a Christian.

The black that a priest wears represents the darkness. Not just physical darkness but the deeper darkness that exists in our world—the suffering, the pain, the anxiety, the stress, the failures, the weaknesses, the heartaches, the evil, the sin, and the death of this world. The black represents all the places where people feel lost, where people feel alone, where people are struggling…where people are on the margins and peripheries - as Pope Francis has often stated. And our mission as priests is to enter into that darkness, to step into the places of hurt and suffering and to bring the light of Christ.

Portrait of Priest by Benedito Calixto (1902).

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

This is one exceptionally creative aspect of John's Gospel—the terrible things occur at night while the incredible workings of God occur during the middle of the day. It's a way for the literature to reflect something powerful. Sin lurks in the night. The light of Christ must not remain in the comfort of midday, it must enter into the dark. Of course, this is the great adventure of Jesus Christ who enters into the thick of it, into sin and death to destroy it through His death and resurrection.

The Calling of St. Matthew by Caravaggio (c. 1599). Caravaggio was excellent at using the method “chiaroscuro.” This artistic approach provides a visual effect by placing light and dark side-by-side to help direct the eye while honoring the spiritual battle of good and evil.

But as priests, we don't enter the darkness to stay there. That's where the white collar comes in. The white collar, which sits right against our vocal cords, is a reminder that we bring the light of Christ into that darkness by speaking the Gospel.

We must speak the Gospel, bring hope, and offer grace in and through the sacraments. We must carry Christ's love into the darkest corners. We must speak up.

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

Bishop Robert Barron speaking at the Eucharistic Congress during the summer of 2024.

This is the mission of a priest, but it's also the mission of every Christian. Priests wear all-black with a white collar to reflect our mission: to bring the Gospel to the darkest corners.

But, we can fail as priests and Christians to fulfill this mission. How can we fail?

By being silent, of course. But also by focusing only on what's wrong in the world and losing sight of God's providence and love. It's easy to become negative and dwell on what won't work. It's easy to feel overwhelmed by sin and suffering. It's easy to turn on the news and become hostile, pessimistic, and cynical. It’s easy to say, “Nothing is going to work. It’s over. Why even try?” But as Christians, we are not called to be people of darkness but to be people of hope. We are called to see the light of Christ even in the darkest places. The priest's attire reminds us of this movement: we enter the darkness and bring the light of Christ.

Fr. Mike Schmitz leading “The Catechism In A Year” podcast.

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

Pope Francis warns us that pessimism and cynicism are infectious diseases for Christians. They spread rapidly and can take over a school, a team, a family, a parish, or a community. Negativity can become the air we breathe and the rhythm of our words, if we're not careful.

I want to challenge you today: Are your words spreading hope or pessimism? Are you lifting people or dragging them down? Are you just focusing on the darkness, or have you caught sight of the light of Christ?

Pope Francis has consistently preached on the importance of hope and the negative effects of cynicism and pessimism.

To our students: Do your words encourage your classmates? Do you support your teammates when the game is challenging? Do you help your friends when they are struggling? Or do you let negativity win by diminishing someone near you, bullying them, making fun of them, tearing apart what they are doing, exaggerating a story about them, or gossiping?

To the teachers and staff: Are your words spreading hope or cynicism? Are you encouraging students and colleagues to see God's presence in their lives? Are you inspiring them to find joy even in challenges? Or do you let frustration turn into discouragement?

And I'll be the first to admit—this challenge is for me, too.

I can fall into negativity. I can be tempted by gossip, by complaining, by forgetting to see the good that God is doing. I can forget that I wear a white collar and am called to speak the Gospel, to preach and talk about hope, and about God's love, mercy, and grace.

My ordination to the Priesthood on May 27, 2022 at St. Patrick’s Church in Erie, Pa.

I quickly learned about my weaknesses and sinfulness when I was first assigned to five parishes amid consolidation. Many people I listened to were angry, frustrated, filled with anxiety, despair, and so forth. Some of these opinions were rightfully so, while others were sheer pessimism and cynicism. Some were just complaints, while other words were from the depths of the soul. Don't get me wrong, I was called to listen to everyone – and to listen to them very well, regardless of one’s motives.

Christ Healing the Sick by James Tissot.

But the infectious diseases of pessimism and cynicism began to incubate within my soul. My soul began to feel sick, and the symptoms lingered. I started to have tendencies of negativity, pessimism, cynicism, and so forth. I began to spread the two infectious diseases of pessimism and cynicism. I began to focus on the darkness, errors, what's wrong, what won't work, and so forth. I failed to feel the white collar that I wore against my vocal cords. I had moments when I failed to preach the Gospel, when a word of hope and encouragement would have been the proper medicine for the soul in front of me.

The Last Judgment by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel (c. 1536).

But God is perfect. He can lift us. God can heal us. And God often does this through the sacraments and through witnesses who preach the Gospel.

I learned many valuable lessons during that difficult time. I knew that I needed the sacraments of the Catholic Church and people around me who are filled with hope. I need Christians who hold firm to the Gospel when everything else seems to be struggling, failing, worsening, weakening, despairing, falling apart, etc.

As Christians, we are meant to bring light into the dark. We are not meant to spread negativity. We are meant to give hope. The white collar of a priest against the all-black attire says something. What does it say?

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

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Fr. Ben Daghir