“The Dance of Light and Dark”

Tonight, beloved friends, we welcome the peace of the dark. The Wheel of the Year Again turns again and again, and tonight we find ourselves here Celebrating the Winter Solstice, Yule, the Longest Night; a tradition that goes back ages and belongs to the Pagan and earth-based traditions.  

There have long been fears of the dark- there is something primal about it, something woven into us all as human beings that tends to fear darkness and what we imagine might be creeping there. But, it is something that we also need- we are no different than the seeds that can only generate when they are tucked deep within the dark soil of the earth. There something in us that needs this time. This is a time not only of rest, but of restoration, of change, of growing, like a caterpillar in its chrysalis. I think of this time as akin to the void, but  in Hebrew it’s called the Tehom, but this is not something that is nothing, it is the holy thing from which all things come- it is the pause before the bang of creation, the time before the explosion of light as we are thrust from the comfort of a womb into the world, it is the seed being feed by the dark, cracking open beneath the earth, before coiling up into the bright world above. This void is creative, generative, restorative, and peaceful. But while it can be comforting, we don’t stay here- we move forth, from this day the light begins to return, beginning the long march towards it’s zenith on the Summer Solstice, the longest day.  

We have been inching here day by day for many months. As the earth’s axis tilts this Northern Hemisphere away from the sun, our sunrises come later, our sunsets earlier. Our evenings have stretched out in front of us, and we have tried to make the most of this time.

The cycles go on. Soon, we will begin leaning back in, towards the central star of this solar system. Winter doesn’t last forever. It is time to make space in our lives, in our hearts, for the light again.

But for now, we must kindle our own flames when we need them, and tend to ourselves, our restoration, our creativity, our rest, all of these gifts of the long nights in which we find ourselves. It is in this time that we gather together, when community has traditionally been most important, when resources were shared, when we learned that if we are to survive, we need one another. This is still as true as it ever was, even in our overly commodified, overly individualized society, we still need the warmth that community provides. 

May we rest well in this darkness, and take comfort in the closeness of one another, of friends, family and loved ones. As we do so, we recognize that the light is returning to us. We will welcome it in, dancing, twirling out our lives ever moving between light and dark. 

Topics: The Holy