Winter Solstice
We might think of winter as the season of entering into the gifts of earth and her stillness.
After moving through autumn's release and surrender,
winter enters a profound time of silence, darkness, rest, and incubation.
(Christine Valters Paintner)
Drive Out the Darkness, Porter's Gate, "Lament Songs"
This Advent we wait with hope for the coming of Christ's Light and Love -- a love so vulnerable and powerful, it can abolish darkness by it's very presence.
The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned." (Is. 9:2, NIV)
This morning the northern hemisphere enters the season of winter. It is the day of greatest dark for the year. But tomorrow daylight will begin returning and lengthening by fractions of a second each day. However infinitesimal the increase in light, I still take comfort we are heading in the direction of more light!
In spite of my great joy for the returning light, and prayers for God's protection from the darkness that is evil and frightening, I know that the dark also has gifts for us. In Genesis God creates both light and dark, and it is good.The life-rhythms in us, and outside of us, are shaped by alternations of light and dark. New life often begins in the dark: seeds and bulbs in the ground, infants in the womb, And after a busy holiday season, winter invites us into a time for rest and renewing, making space for dreaming and listening for what wants to be born in us.
Barbara Brown Taylor writes, "I have learned things in the dark, I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life, over and over again, so that there is really only one conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.
Most of us are very fortunate to be able to soften the effects of dark and cold with artificial sources of light and heat. But sometimes these much-welcomed conveniences can block our vision of the potential gifts of the dark. When we shine a flashlight into the darkness ahead, we see only what is illuminated within the narrow beam of light, while the dark on the edges seems to be even darker and opaque. Wendell Berry writes,
To go in the dark with a light, is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight.
And find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
And is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.
Prayer Practice: You are invited to pray with the blessing below using Lectio Divina:
Take some time to become stilled and present
Read slowly through the blessing below three times
At the first reading, ask what word or phrase is calling you
In the second reading, reflect on what memories, images, or feelings are stirred in you.
The third time, ponder the invitation of this word or phrase. How are you being called to respond?
And finally, take some moments to rest in God's presence, expressing gratitude.
(feel free to share your word or phrase in the comments below)
Blessing of the Night (adapted from Christine Valters Paintner's "Season by the Sea")
May you be embraced and held by the beautiful darkness and discover there the gifts of rest and renewal.
May you surrender into the gift of holy darkness, wrapping you in tender care, creating space for the incubation of seeds planted in the soil of your soul.
May you entrust yourself to the dark ocean of the night as the holy womb where you will be birthed anew into the morning.
Resources:
Paintner, Christine Valters, Sacred Seasons online retreat, abbeyofthearts.com
Taylor, Barbara Brown, "Learning to Walk in the Dark"
The Longest Night, Peter Mayer
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