A Light Shines in the Darkness

Some words of reflection from our service of hope and healing last night...

             It is hard to believe that it is already December. Once again Thanksgiving has flown by and we are already in the midst of busy preparations for Christmas. Presents to buy, houses to decorate, parties to plan for, etc. etc. And in spite of how exhausting this season of Advent can be, I have to confess that there is something comforting about the busyness of the holidays, or about any day, really. Keeping myself busy and distracted, I can avoid having to stop and take a deeper look at myself and ask, “no really, Emily, how is it with your soul today?” That is a tough question and I would venture to say, most of us don’t dare stop and ask ourselves this because we are perhaps quite afraid of the answer. If we stop long enough to let our souls speak to us in the silence, think of what they might say- I am lonely. I don’t feel that I am enough. I am not happy. I am still grieving when everyone else has moved on already. I want out of my marriage. I feel like a failure. I am scared and I don’t know what to do.

            In the midst of a season characterized by great joy and merriment, parties and abundant light, it is easier to push away the darkness. It is easier to stay busy and not ask ourselves the hard questions. And yet, as much as we try to avoid them, as much as we can try to push our pain into a corner, or hide it beneath a happy face, the darkness will eventually catch up with us.

            Parker Palmer says, “the only way to deal with the darkness is not to go around it or turn your back on it to pretend it isn’t there, but to go deeper into it until you begin to see a little bit of light.” This is counterintuitive to everything we know about comfort and pain. Nobody likes to feel pain, and human beings will usually go to any lengths to avoid feeling it, even if we know that on the other side healing awaits us.  And so it is easier to stay busy, to turn to noise and distractions to keep us distanced from ourselves and prevent us from facing our darkest places. We are afraid of what we might find there if we really started digging around. And yet, as scary as it may be, healing can only begin once we gather up the courage to stop and give name to the brokenness that lies so close to each of our hearts. It is only by moving into darkness, instead of running from it that we can start to let light in. Because the thing is, light doesn’t go around darkness; it cuts through to the very heart of it.

            The psalmist assures us that no matter how far we run to avoid the darkness, even to the ends of the earth, God’s presence never leaves us. As far into the dark as we must walk to experience healing, as long as we must wait for a glimpse of dawn to appear, we know that God waits with us.

Where can I go from your spirit?

    Or where can I flee from your presence? 

If I ascend to heaven, you are there;

    if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.

If I take the wings of the morning

    and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,

even there your hand shall lead me,

    and your right hand shall hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,

    and the light around me become night,”

even the darkness is not dark to you;

    the night is as bright as the day,

    for darkness is as light to you. (Psalm 139)

            How often have we walked into the dark places in our lives and felt like we would be overwhelmed. Like every bit of light has been snuffed out and we might never see the light of day again? Perhaps that might sound a bit dramatic, but the truth is darkness can seem all consuming and terrifying. It takes away our control and leaves us unsteady and afraid. It is no wonder we go to such lengths to avoid it, even when the things we turn to end up doing us more harm than good. But the thing is, in order to get to the other side of the darkness, you have to go through it. There is no avoiding that scary in between time, that darkest of places where you are too far in to turn around and not close enough to see the light of the other side. It is the point of no return, where the path you took to get here has washed out and the way forward is still concealed from you. The old is not old enough to have died away and the new is still too young to be born.

            And yet… in the middle of the darkness, when we least expect it, we hear these words: 

“In the beginning was the Word 
and what has come into being through the Word was life
and the life was the light of all people. 
The light shines in the darkness 
and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1)

            Friends, darkness is a scary place. But we have what it takes to walk into it. We can embrace the hard work of healing, letting go, moving forward, and facing our own shadows even when we have no control and can’t see where we are going. We can do this because of the one who walks with us. Because of the one who is not overcome by the darkness. Like a lighthouse shining out into the darkest of seas, Christ tells us, “You are here.” “Keep going.” “You may not see the way ahead, but I see you.”  “You are not alone.”

            May these words give us the strength and the courage we need to illuminate the darkest shadows of our hearts; that Christ’s presence would guide us, ground us and lead us home to the other side. Amen.