OUT OF THE DARKNESS

12/23/07   Summit UU Fellowship

Rev. Kathleen A. Green

     “A world without warmth, a world without light.  It’s what our ancient ancestors feared most.  Perhaps as the first humans traveled farther and farther from their tropical homes, they noticed with increasing anxiety that days grew shorter and nights longer.  As their food supply swindled – with the earth seemingly barren and many animals in hibernation – and as the temperature plummeted, so did their spirits.  What if the light disappeared altogether?  What if the sun abandoned them, leaving them to scrabble for existence in a cold, dark world?”

These words come from author Patricia Montley, in her book In Nature’s Honor.  Words that describe the beginning of humankind’s fear of a dark world – darkness – life without light.

     Eventually we did come to understand the science of the seasons and the times when the sun seems for a few days to “stand still” – solstice.  Since ancient times, there have been celebrations all over the world, in every tradition, honoring the movement of the sun and the changing of the seasons – the magical magnificence of nature.

     Many symbols and ritual traditions of this season come from ancient pagan tradition:  The evergreen tree; The Yule log; Holly & Ivy; Gift-giving;

mistletoe  

  We are grateful to the earth-centered traditions that teach us and remind us to revere nature and the spirit of life that resides in the natural world around us.  As Unitarian Universalists, we draw upon many sources for our living tradition; recognizing the wisdom that each has to offer us.  In this time of winter solstice, we reach out to our pagan sisters and brothers, those who would teach us and guide us in honoring the earth’s seasons and at this time honoring the darkness – knowing that without darkness nothing comes to birth.

     Darkness finds its time and place in each of our lives.  There is a darkness that is present even as the sun shines so brightly in a clear blue San Diego sky.  Darkness of depression, darkness of confusion, darkness of struggle, darkness of deep grief.

   In Clearwater, Florida, last week, where my dear colleague and friend is one of the ministers, 5 members of the Unitarian Universalist congregation in Clearwater, were killed.  One of the 5 killed his ex-wife and her lesbian partner, his own 2yr old son and 4yr old daughter, and later himself.  It is shocking.  It is horrific.  It is devastating.  It is a time of darkness for the Clearwater congregation, their ministers, and the families of the dead.  A time of darkness in a season of supposed merriment and celebration and holiday.  A time of darkness that undoubtedly holds deep grief and struggle.  The pinpoint of light in this tragedy is that the congregation is reaching out to one another, offering compassion; waiting for the pinpoint to grow into full light once again. 

   Sitting in the darkness, waiting for the light, we need to know we are not alone.  It’s not so much strength that we need.  It’s not so much advice that we need.  It’s simply compassion – a pinpoint of light.  A hand of compassion that can help to quiet the feeling of chaos brought on by the darkness.  A hand of compassion that can help lift the spirit, every so gently and slightly, from the depths of the darkness.

   We must be that hand of compassion for others in their darkness and reach out for a hand in our own dark time.  Just as with the seasons, the sun returns triumphant, and strengthens and sustains and grows to fullness, so shall the light return from out of the darkness in our lives.  The light will come.  This we know:  as the seasons come and go; as the wheel forever turns; the light will come again – out of the darkness.

Lulu:  Stand forth, O my children, under the bounty of my winterlight, and hear me!

Now I wane, and fall to silence in the snow-clad belly of the Mother, and my life is given for you.  Learn of me.

Donna:  I am the giver of good gifts, whose hands are never empty.

I am the Light of Day, under which flourishes all life, everywhere.

I am he who brings forth the grain that you may never hunger, the fruits that you may have delight, the trees and plants that you may dwell in comfort, the flowers that you may rejoice.

Rev. K:  Yet must I pause, and make an end, and give over my brightness for a time.

Yet must I release the fruits, release the grains, to darkness, to death, to silence.

Lulu:  I am the Fire of your Souls, that which warms your hearts and causes you to care for one another.

And yet remember that all things have their Seasons, that naught that does not change is truly alive, that life is a cycle and the Wheel must turn.

Donna:  I call upon you to do as I do.

Give your warmth without measuring, your beauty without reservation,

Your Life without stinting.

Become protectors, nourishers, caretakers of one another, as I am to you.

Rev. K:  Nonetheless, permit what is over to end peacefully.

Take comfort in the snow that salves the reaped and bleeding fields.

Give to one another not only of your abundance but of your need, That each and all of you may enjoy the blessing of giving.

For I am the Father of all life, and you are my children,

And as I live and as I die, so shall ye all.

And together we shall turn the Wheel, and enjoy the dimensions of all there is of living.

                             Blessed Be.