Every year at this time the planet gives the northern hemisphere a promise: that the days will get shorter, culminating at the winter solstice, December 21. And from that darkest day, the promise continued: every day thereafter would provide a little more light. For over 10,000 years, various ethnic groups and tribes across the globe have marked the return of the sun with bonfires and festivals. Many centuries later the Romans developed the Saturnalian festival, in honor of the god Saturn, and the weeklong observance involved continuous raucous celebrations.
Each of the Abrahamic religious traditions has long had practices that revolve around light. The Jewish observance of Hanukah, known as the festival of lights, commemorates the “miracle” of a limited supply of olive oil keeping the menorah’s candles burning for eight days, a celebration that takes place near the end of the calendar year. Christians observe four Sundays of Advent, each week lighting another candle placed on a wreath, bringing more light into the darkness. The season ends with the celebration of Christmas, the commemoration of the “true light coming into the world” (John 1:9) In a brazen attempt at domination, the early church decided to establish Christmas on December 25, largely to offset, if not replace, the Saturnalian festival. For Muslims, light is not necessarily linked to the winter solstice, but is nevertheless central to the Islamic faith tradition: “God is the Light of the heavens and the earth. The parable of His light is like that of a niche containing a lamp; the lamp is within glass, the glass as if it were a radiant star lit from the oil of a blessed olive tree, neither of the east nor of the west, whose oil would almost glow even if untouched by fire. Light upon light.” (Sura 24:35 of the Qur’an).
And yet. Even with ancient beliefs and practices that celebrate the gift of light, we struggle with darkness. Especially at this time of year. Seasonal Affective Disorder, also known by its apt acronym SAD, is a malady that millions of people have to fight through. And especially this year. Many people are struggling with what they anticipate will be deepening darkness with the coming of a new Administration in January. I mentioned this widespread fear in a recent sermon, and a man came up to me afterward and very graciously said that he didn’t want to be a contrarian, but “many of us think that the new Administration will take the bushel off the candle.”
In America these days, we have very different conceptions of darkness. One side has it that the “deep state” is a dark menace, with too many regulations, too many identity groups, and too many government nests which are overly feathered. The other side is worried that the Administration will bring a tidal wave of darkness that will undermine democracy, threaten, if not punish, marginalized people, and restrict the freedom of people to speak and think.
These are very real fears of very different darknesses. These darknesses compete with each other, often in ruthless and heartless ways, which only threatens to snuff out the available light. And to compound the turmoil, each side offers a promise of light that is, at least to the strongest partisans of the other side, is not light at all, but a prescription for even more darkness.
As policies, programs, and prescriptions continue to roll out, we will need to wrestle with them, and depending on our orientation, to advocate for them or resist them. But beneath all of that, and before all of that, it will be important to claim the presence of light. This light is not political or racial, but existential. It is a light that has been given to each of us. Our egos, which have been stroked or demeaned, depending on one’s political orientation, get caught up in the whirlwinds of competing darkness and light, which the anger entrepreneurs relentlessly pursue and promote.
The existential light lies beneath the wranglings of our ego, in the depths of our souls which has been given to each of us. As the writer of John’s Gospel puts it, “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5) It is a light that keeps us connected to the soul. It is a light that offers a peace that the world cannot give, and a joy that is more abiding and transformjing than anything that happiness can offer. It is an enduring light, whether the sun shines or not, whether we feel consumed by darkness or not. Let’s claim that light. Cherish it. Trust it. And share it with one another. It is hard but needed work.
