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“the glory is fallen out of / the sky the last immortal / leaf / is // dead and the gold / year / a formal spasm / in the // dust / this is
This principle is so important to understand, and answers 95% of the questions people ask about why God allows X or Y.
Thanks…Strikes a chord for me in these early days of the season. Bookmarked!
“Ad-vent” of course means “to vent”. So get all your whining out before Christmas, because if you wake baby Jesus there will be hell to pay!
;)
I want to re-read every word here. I had a dream once. It was like a reckoning of my soul. I was surrounded by a darkness that was so black, it was not ordinary. I had no words to describe it nor did I understand why I was there. Then I was in a room – it looked like a dungeon. There was a podium. I had to give an account of my life. There was a door but I was completely alone. Talk about a wake up call. I consider myself a kind and decent person. I don’t know where that came from – maybe too many scary movies. But I never forgot it, and I questioned where I actually stood with God. There is a way out of darkness into the light. Thank you for your wonderful post.
My experience has shown me that many miracles are borne of the darkness.
Thank you for this potent reminder, Midge.
I had never considered that aspect before. Thanks.
Advent is a time for candlelight and gentle music, for sure. Millions of lights gather to be renewed by the fragile light of a newborn Creator and King — the most incomprehensible mystery of human history. Here is our Savior, a helpless baby.
They had to wait. We have to wait. At least, we have that in common with the ancients.
Thank you, Midge. Your OP reminds me of Gerard Manly Hopkins’ poem, God’s Grandeur – especially the second portion of the poem:
Yes, although there remains, always, a portion of that question which is unanswerable. The prose quoted in the OP comes from DB Hart’s “The Doors of the Sea, which ends thus:
Being open about the dark side of life when you’re a Christian takes trust. We know from experience that the dark times can become those dark nights of the soul which draw us nearer to God. And we hope that’s what they will be. But we never know… Fortunately, we don’t have to know, just trust – although that’s much easier said than done!
I love Fr. Hopkins’ work…an argent, polished warmth amid the shadows!
A great deal to reflect on, particularly considering the way I’ve been feeling lately.
Thank you, Midge.
So do I.
I find him a companion on the journey, very often…There’s a wonderful spoken-word interpretation of some of his works, called, Back to Beauty’s Giver, by Richard Austin. Here’s a video excerpt from YouTube.
Thank you for this well-considered meditation.
Also, for the uninitiated, this post is part of a Group Writing series on Gratitude, planned for the whole month of November. If you follow this link, there’s more information about Group Writing and links to the other posts this month (the schedule is updated with links as posts go up). We hope to serve as a leaven for Ricochet leading up to and following the election.
December’s topic will be My Favorite Things; click here for more information, and to sign up for that topic.
I love it when you post religious, Midge. You should do it more often. Excellent post! The secualr part of the Christmas season grows weary, but I get so much joy out of the religious Advent season. And yes I associate it with the growing darkness which ultimately transitions to growing light! I don’t associate the darkness with any evil or malice. For me it’s God’s hand in the world, just as the light is. Blessed Advent season to all.
Maybe it’s just the way I myself find little of value in ceremony, or maybe it is that my own time horizons tend to be so far out, but while I do cherish the changing of the seasons I also have never been able to wrap my head around a liturgical calendar. Time itself, rather than darkness, is what weighs heavily on me most of all. Darkness itself holds little power over me, for it is in the darkness of the night, or of the winter, that I find quiet, focus, and renewal. But the press of Time, the never ending march of upcoming events, duties, obligations, growth, and death – these things are never far from my mind or my heart, and the routine of holidays rush by me like a blur.
Possibly, one reason to value the liturgical calendar is as a balance against the press of Time.
You mention darkness as a time of focus and renewal. It may be that for many of us. Maybe it’s just because it’s a break from routine, or maybe it really is the darkness that causes the services conducted in darkness (Christmas Eve, Epiphany, Tenebrae, Easter vigil) to be points of focus in a way services close to them, but conducted in daylight (Christmas Day, daytime Good Friday services, Easter once the sun has dawned), may not be. At least for some people.
Whether liturgy is a brief respite from those long time horizons, or whether it’s a respite from a disparity between obligations with long time horizons and a lived reality conflicting with that, the sense that liturgy or ritual belongs to another kind of time is not so unusual, I think.
Our pastor likes to remind us that liturgical seasons exist not only to sanctify time, but also to let us glimpse Eternity. This can ease the weightiness of time’s passage for the believer; and permit each moment to be a gift.