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Good morning. When I was a small child, I loved bonfire parties.

I loved being wrapped up warm, with woolly hat and mittens, and being out in the dark after bed-time. I loved drinking the hot tomato soup that Mum brought in a flask, and then getting my teeth stuck together with treacle toffee.

I wasn’t too keen on noisy fireworks, but I loved writing my name with a sparkler, and watching the leaping flames that made our faces glow with the light and heat.

It was only rather later I grasped the dark history behind the practice of stuffing an old jumper and pair of jeans, crafting a face, and then burning this effigy of Guy Fawkes.

Nowadays, especially as the 500th anniversary of the start of the reformation is being commemorated by Catholics and Protestants alike, churches have largely moved beyond such partisanism. And when it comes to bonfires, the focus this weekend is more likely to be on the fireworks.

That said, even the spiralling sparks of the Catherine wheel have a gory story to tell – recalling the 4th century saint who, legend has it, spoke out against the cruelties of the Emperor, and was condemned to torture and death on a large spiked wheel. When it shattered at her touch, she was instead beheaded. The Catherine wheel proclaims her vindication, and Christian belief in her ultimate triumph over death.

Fireworks are powerful symbols for celebrating secular and religious victories – even if sometimes we need an honest reappraisal of some of our traditions.

On a deeper level, for Christians – and for other faiths also – fireworks, like every light in the darkness, assert the victory of good over evil, right over wrong, and hope over despair.

Redeeming God, shine your light into the dark places of our lives, past and present, and purify our hearts by the fire of your redeeming love. Amen