this dark time of year

-


On a recent conference call, I was led in a meditation of arrival; instead of picturing a conference room, where we were all seated around a table, the facilitator walked us into his home, and painted a mental image of his living room, where we all gathered around the fireplace with Mr. and Mrs. Claus on the mantle. I settled into a comfortable chair, accepted a mug of eggnog, and became comfortablly present for a conversation about the Collaborative Operating System. Once fully present, the facilitator talked about this cross-cultural festival time.

I've been trying to pay attention to the universal experience of this more-dark-than-light time of year (in
the Norther Hemisphere) for the past several years. He reminded us of the Scandinavian Yule Log traditions, many of which include taking a piece of the log for next year's kindling or scattering the ashes in a garden for next year's fertilizer. I was drawn once-again to the Advent Wreath, the light of which grows the four weeks leading up to Christmas, even while the natural light grows less and less as we approach the solstice.

This Sunday, December 21st brings us to the "Longest Night" of the year. It also brings us to the lighting of the fourth candle on the wreath. (We reserve the quintessential, or fifth candle for the coming of Christ in Christmas.)

I recently met someone who tries to ignore Christmas because, "Jesus was not born on December 25, and it's not real." Ok, Jesus was probably not born on December 25, but Christmas is very real. What better time to celebrate the birth of God into the world, than the Winter Solstice? If we Christians look to Jesus to be our light, then when it gets dark, let's look for his birth and Incarnation.

It's no wonder so many people experience a blue Christmas. Culturally, we try to ignore the darkness with interior AND exterior illumination, or at least hours of shopping in the year-round-controlled-weather in the mall, but too much light this time of year misses the experience. The darkness invites our memories, even the sad ones. Ignoring the wounds and losses that return to us this time of year only delays the healing process.

As the (northern) world begins bringing lights out, lighting fires in the fire-place, and lighting candles (eight or four), remember to notice the darkness outside, and honor the darkness inside. Do not be afraid of the dark, but invite it in before moving toward the light of the wreath or the tree. Notice the healing that you are invited to this season, and there, find little manger in your heart where Christ can be born. That is the opportunity for his birthday and a re-birthday for each of us who carry these dark places inside us.

Honor the longest night; it is precisely the darkest part of our world that we remember God choses to enter again and again.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

plastic: a spiritual perspective

-
Image
Plastic bag in front of Trinity by the Sea On a recent trip to Austin, I was surprised and delighted not to be handed a plastic bag when I checked out of a grocery store. I wasn't buying much, so I was able to carry out my things without remembering to bring in my reusable bags. For some time now, I've gotten in the habit of turning down plastic bags in convenience stores when they try to put my humble bag of sunflower seeds, lonely, in another bag. The plastic grocery bag has become like a handshake at the end of the deal: it seems to make the shopping experience complete. It is such an ingrained habit, that the person behind the cash register sometimes gets a suspicious look when I ask for no bag, as if thinking, "This yahoo is threatening our way of life!" I think about habits a lot, as a Christian of the Episcopal persuasion. Our practices and our experiences in everyday life shape the way we understand our relationship with God, with others, and with ours
Read more

movin' the tide

-
Image
I recently saw a performance by Shinyribs Russell and heard him tell the background story on his song, " Who Built the Moon ." He told a funny story about a conspiracy theorist's idea the moon was built by someone. I like the song for what it is, never mind the conspiracy. That song went through my head again and again this weekend as the Super Moon rose from the gulf horizon, sailed across the sky, and set over the bay. The moon, "hangin' in the sky, shakin' the oceans, and movin' the tide" has long shaped our human lives. It has helped us mark time, it can guide us in our fishing habits, and it inspires artists, musicians, and fireside philosophers. Life looks different in the moonlight. On Sunday morning, as I finished writing my sermon, I took a break to walk outside to see the Super Moon set, and I caught it hanging in the porch of the church. That night, Laura, Eli, and I went to the beach to watch it rise again. Someone told me it's t
Read more
-
Image
For the past three years, I have preached the Gospel Easter Morning including a pop song. The first year it was Widespread Panic's Diner . Last year Prince's I Would Die For You , and this year, the Grateful Dead's Ripple. Music is so inspiring to me, and it is an easy connection to relate to God, Resurrection, and new life through some of my favorite songs, even when they don't use traditional church language. Easter Morning 2023 My earliest impression of the Grateful Dead was as a pre-teen, staying the night at long time friends of my parents and sharing a room with Monroe their son. Earlier in the day Monroe had sent me down a fairly steep hill on his old bike which had no brakes. I managed to stop by veering off the road into the open arms of a magnolia tree. Monroe was so cool. So that night, after having some Neapolitan ice cream we watched MTV. If you remember MTV, you’ll understand how excited he was that a music video of one of his favorite bands, the Grateful
Read more