Joyful is the Dark

It’s dark. Not metaphorically speaking. Like, actually, really dark. Today is the darkest day of the year in the northern hemisphere and yesterday was the darkest day ever on record in Seattle. It was dark when I drove my boys to school in the morning and the sun set at 4:24pm.

When it’s physically dark like this, the metaphorical darkness can feel especially oppressive. Political chaos, community upheaval, personal sadness. It feels more blanketing when the actual light around you is already dim.

The Church calendar tells us it’s advent and this means that we are in a season of waiting. We are a people in between Advents– the advent of Christ and the advent of Christ-come-again. Every December, we remember the waiting and we continue the waiting. We remember the arrival of Immanuel, God-With-Us, who brought light into all this darkness and yearn still for the next arrival, when the in-breaking of God’s kingdom in this, our weary world, will be complete.

We are told during the advent season to watch for the light. There are advent blogs by this name, sermon series, you name it. It’s even the title of one of the advent books on my shelf and while I don’t think it’s bad advice, the phrase brings to mind the quiver of a candle in a dusky room. A sea-worn sailor watchful for the morning sun to break on the horizon. The late afternoon sunlight pushing its way…