The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.
Since I started working for the Lumen Initiative at Teach Mhuire, Gardiner Street in Dublin’s north inner city in September this year, I have been asked many times what it is all about.
I don’t really have an answer. The Lumen Initiative is evolving, taking shape in response to this person’s need and that person’s crisis and another’s person’s generosity or ability. That isn’t a very satisfactory answer and it’s not always satisfying to live with.
It is perhaps the nature of things that are newly evolving that they grow in darkness, in hiddenness and in chaos. They are characterised more by not-knowing than by knowing, by feeling one’s way rather than proceeding according to plan.
As I write, it is Advent – the time of waiting, in darkness and in faith, for the coming of the Light. I think that says more about the Lumen Initiative than all my fumbling attempts to put in words just what it is I do all day.
Here in Gardiner St. one is very conscious of the darkness that pervades people’s lives. On the streets drugs are being dealt. Couples walk shouting at each other, oblivious to the child following them. People shoot up in doorways and alleyways. The homeless lie immobile under sleeping bags, using cheap liquor to keep out the cold. Across the river, a man has died almost at the gates of the Dail. The name of Jonathan Corrie overshadows the debates of media stars and politicians. Meanwhile people beg and steal and violence simmers beneath the surface, the next mugging or robbery only steps away, the next assault or vicious killing a matter only of the wrong word in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Inside Teach Mhuire, the pain and desolation of addiction is palpable: the guilt and shame, the isolation, the failure of relationships, the total lack of self-belief, the scars left by childhood traumas, the self-hatred, the self-harm, the constant running, all the efforts to block out pain and, again and again, the ruin of hope and the sheer frustration of one’s powerlessness to change.
Yet in the midst of darkness there are glimmers of light. Like the stable in the Christmas story, Teach Mhuire is a refuge for those bewildered by darkness. Here they find warmth and welcome, a cup of tea, a bowl of soup, a roof over their heads. A smile, a word, a handshake: small things mean so much when your confidence is zero. A woman whose child has died gets comfort and understanding from those who have themselves lost loved ones. A boy facing the loneliness of leaving care finds company and support. A man sleeping rough gets help to deal with authorities who will not accept that he is homeless. A woman whose past is scarred by violence, neglect and abuse finds space to face her fears.
Here the unwanted find acceptance. They find fellowship and support from those who have walked this way themselves. They learn that, contrary to what they have always believed, they do matter, they do have a right to be here, they are worthy of love. In moments like these, the face of Christ can be seen. It is here that Christ is truly born.
The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light.
This then is the Lumen Initiative: an invitation to come into the light, the Light that the darkness will not overcome. It is an invitation to hope.
Michele O’Kelly rsm
South Central Province