I first gave this text as a reading on Christmas Eve. I am publishing it here with a few slight changes because I think this is relevant throughout the winter months. I hope it blesses you.
Let me welcome you into this season of winter, where cold and shadow live side by side with the merry joys of the holidays.
Winter is that sacred time where natural light diminishes. This is a wonderful opportunity that nature gives us. We have the opportunity to celebrate the light of Christ in a way that is not possible in the sun-drenched laziness of summer.
In her book Learning to Walk in the Dark, Barbara Brown Taylor says, “I have learned things in the dark that 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 logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.”
The darkness which Taylor is speaking is the darkness of unknowing. It is the darkness of suffering and of loneliness, and also of our inability to see what lies ahead.
She goes on to write, “those of us who wish to draw near to God should not be surprised when our vision goes cloudy, for this is a sign that we are approaching the opaque splendor of God. If we decide to keep going beyond the point where our eyes or minds are of any help to us, we may finally arrive at the pinnacle of the spiritual journey toward God, which exists in complete and dazzling darkness.”
I find this statement to be both confusing and challenging. Could it be true that our relationship with our Creator must exist in the context of “dazzling darkness?” What exactly does that phase even mean? Is that something we even want to experience?
I am very glad that the Bible includes the book of Psalms. The honesty of the psalm-writers is a medicine to those who are in the midst of darkness. In Psalm 88, we hear this:
But I cry to you for help, Lord,
In the morning my prayer comes before you.
Why, O Lord, do you reject me,
And hide your face from me?
From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;
I have borne your terrors and am in despair.
Your wrath has swept over me;
Your terrors have destroyed me.
All day long they surround me like a flood;
They have completely engulfed me.
You have taken from me friend and neighbor-
Darkness is my closest friend.
Darkness is my closest friend, says the psalmist. And that, I think, is so often an accurate description of the spiritual path.
If you are willing, take five minutes and do this simple exercise. Go into a dark room, even a something like a closet or bathroom. Bring a candle with you.
To begin, sit in the darkness and become centered. Feel those things that make you uncomfortable, whatever pains and sufferings you are living with at this present moment.
Now, the light the candle.
The truth within us is like a seed. To grow, this seed must be buried and live in darkness; only after the season of being hidden can it be revealed to light.
See how this little candle fills this whole room with light.
The spiritual path is like this candle. There is no need to chase darkness away, to bargain with it, to struggle against it, to curse it, or to fear it. Our only task is to become aware that we are surrounded by light at all times, that Christ within us is brighter than many suns; the very foundation of our being is light.
When we remember this, darkness vanishes of its own, returning to the nothingness from which it came.
Gather in your mind whatever darkness you are experiencing in your life. Now, bless it, and slowly, let it go.
Let your soul be filled with the lightness of release.
It is the nature of light to give itself unconditionally to all who are near. Light, then, becomes a symbol for the love of Christ. Let yourself be enveloped by this Love.
To end the meditation, read these words from the Song of Solomon, words that with great wisdom our spiritual ancestors included in the Holy Scriptures.
“My Beloved spoke and said to me,
Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me.
See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come.
The cooing of doves is heard in our land.
The fig tree forms its early fruit, the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling,
My beautiful one,
Come with me.”
Blessings.