The Longest Night Meditation

For the past several years, the communities of the Mainesburg and Roseville and New Vision Parishes have been offering this service - the service of the Longest Night - as a reminder that Christmas is not the easiest time for those who are struggling. Struggling with grieving a loved one. Struggling with depression. Struggling with not feeling up to all of the clamor and hustle and bustle of the holiday season. It is even harder to respect our grief when everyone around us seems joyful. People surround us with smiles, laughter, and hymns of promise, while our hearts are heavy. This is a space where we can share those feelings together.

It seems so hard to hold out for hope in the midst of dark days. The people of Israel knew all to well about darkness. They had been in captivity for years upon years - with the original generation taken away from their holy city, now in ruins, long since dead. They too felt as if the light had left their lives. 

I think its hard for many in this day and age to appreciate what total darkness feels like. When the sun set during Biblical times, folks headed to bed, and rose with the light of the sun. For during the darkness of night, light could only be provided by a single lamp or candle - leaving much of the darkness un-illuminated. In our world of light switches and street lamps, we rarely know this type of darkness. And if we do not know true darkness, it is even harder to grasp the joy of light. The light of Christ coming into the world. 

So it is true with our spiritual lives as well. Many of us try to conceal the dark places in our lives as well - those places where we are hurting - because we think that is what the world wants us to do - to pretend to be illuminated, especially during this season. But brothers and sisters, I stand before you this evening, telling you that even though it may not feel like it, darkness is a special time - a time that when we emerge allows us to actually embrace the light of day. 

Advent, and especially this evening as we celebrate the Longest Night, is a time of reflection - a time to visit the darkness of our hearts, the place of deep sorrows and hurts that we’ve hid for too long. Its a time to be honest with God about what we are feeling - honest with ourselves. For if we do not acknowledge the darkness, we will never know to long for the light. Yearn for the One who can turn our darkness into light.

Advent is the time to stand in the darkness, but never alone. For we stand there with our brothers and sisters, those who have gathered together this evening, to have the courage to seek the light together. 

The people of Israel, even in their time of despair, still gathered together to seek the light. They still gathered around the camp fire and shared stories of old - stories of the God who rescued them once from the hand of Egypt and would rescue them again from captivity. We too gather together, to seek the light. To seek the light of God that can shine in our hearts. 

Why? Because in the words of devotional author Patricia Farris, “The truth of our faith, the oft-hidden treasure of darkness, is that the birth of the Christ Child happens in the darkest dark of night. In that night, God’s love triumphs over the power of hopelessness and fear; and a special star shines so brightly that the whole of the night sky is brilliant with light. The world beings anew. That is our faith.”

Brothers and sisters, we come together tonight, not for false promises or glossy cheer - but to seek the Light. And maybe even to celebrate the gift of darkness.For in the words of poet Ann Weems, it is just when our path seems the darkest, “when angels rush in, their hands full of stars” to shine forth the light of the one who shined into the darkness. The only one who can turn our darkness into light anew.