Perhaps it does not begin.
Perhaps it is always.
Perhaps it takes a lifetime
to open our eyes,
to learn to see
what has forever
shimmered in front of us—
the luminous line
of the map
in the dark,
the vigil flame
in the house
of the heart,
the love so searing
we cannot keep
from singing,
from crying out
in testimony
and praise.
Perhaps this day
will be the mountain
over which
the dawn breaks.
Perhaps we
will turn our face
toward it,
toward what has been
always.
Perhaps
our eyes
will finally open
in ancient recognition,
willingly dazzled,
illuminated at last.
Perhaps this day
the light begins
in us.
--From Jan Richardson’s “Circle of Grace”
These days are some of the darkest and shortest of the year. On December 21, the day that marks the Winter Solstice, we will begin the slow and long climb out of the darkness of winter toward the lightening and lengthening of days. And although the thought of this turning point should in theory be heartening, the challenge of the ascent before us can be, if we’re being honest, daunting.
As the saying goes, “how dark is the hour before the dawn.” This moment feels darker still given the challenges we face as a nation and a world. Yet in this season of darkness, there is also joy and hope. The religious and cultural rituals that take place in December during Advent, Hanukkah, or Kwanza, all involve the lighting of candles to remind us of this instinctively, in these dark days, human beings are drawn to light.
A student who came to an Advent prayer service recently said, “I’ve just always loved something about Advent and the lighting of candles; it gives me hope.”
In Advent, the light is a reminder of Christ’s coming to the world, reminding Christians that God is present and understands our suffering, and what makes us uniquely human. In Hanukkah, the candles remind Jews that the flames of God’s light will never extinguish. The miracle of the Menorah that burned for eight days after the destruction of the temple reminds us that the hope of God always remains. Finally, the cultural celebration of Kwanzaa lights seven candles to celebrate the uniqueness of African-American identity, affirming the light of unity (Umoja), of self-determination (kujichagulia), of purpose (nia), and of faith (imani), among others.
Whatever rituals you practice during these dark days of winter, may you be lifted up in the knowledge that very soon, the days will be getting longer, the light will be returning, and hope is on the horizon.
In a recent interview, Bryan Stevenson reflects, “I am persuaded that hopelessness is the enemy of justice; that if we allow ourselves to become hopeless, we become part of the problem.” May the rituals of this season help inoculate us from despair, and make us allies for justice and hope amidst the twin pandemics of COVID-19 and systemic racism.
During the Holocaust Anne Frank wrote, “a single candle can both define and defy the darkness.” How will you defy the darkness this winter? What ways can you become allies of justice and help build hope?
--The Rev. Katie Solter
Spread the word!
Do you know someone in the St. Mark’s community who would enjoy these reflections?
