As we approach the season of the Winter Solstice, I begin with a few words by Wendell Berry:
“To Know the Dark”
To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.
One of the ways we hope to connect at the Shelter Rock UU Congregation is to stay in touch with the earth and the seasons and the changes that happen across a year and across a life time. In this season of darkening, even before the coldest time sets in, we gather with one another. We share space and time with one another. We even risk to sing.
This is a traditional song with new words used by Jim Scott and performed by the Paul Winter Consort on the Solstice.
“Longest Night”
Light of our hearts’ fires burning bright,
we dream of the spring this winter’s night.
Surely the earth is turning,
is turning from dark to light.
Gathered friends in rev’rence here
to celebrate the longest night.
Unitarian Universalism is sometimes called the religion of the Universals and the Unities.
The religion of the Universals affirms and promotes the notion that Love—whether we know it as the Love of God or by some other name—is available to everyone. Love does not reach out only to a select few, but it extended to all, universally. This requires us to promote the inherent worth and dignity of every individual. Not unlike Quaker George Fox, we understand that there is a light in everyone; and it is our opportunity, and our responsibility, and our joy to see that light and to exhibit our own. That light is a way that we are connected.
The religion of the Unities says that we cannot be divided. We affirm and promote the interdependent web of existence of which we are a part. We understand that where there is pain in the web of existence, it affects us all. Where there is joy in the web of existence, we are called to share that joy. We need each other; and none of us is alone.
Unitarian Universalism draws from many sources, including “the direct experience of transcending mystery and wonder . . . which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces that create and uphold life.” So while we have a high regard for rationality and science, we approach the Winter Solstice not only as scientists, but as people with rich imaginations able, I hope, to experience awe and humility. The following prayer by Patricia Montley is meant to be something we may all say together.
Before we can celebrate the end of the waning of the light, before we can acknowledge the light’s return, we take a moment to honor the dark. On this longest night of the year, let us connect with one another; let us sit together in this darkening space and bless the gifts that darkness gives us. As I call out some of these, I invite all of us to respond with “We give thanks!”
For the dark, rich earth where seeds germinate . . .
We give thanks!
For potatoes and carrots and beets and all vegetables
stretching for life in the dark underground . . .
We give thanks!
For bread dough rising in the dark oven . . .
We give thanks!
For the darkness that soothes us to sleep . . .
We give thanks!
For the darkness that animals need for hibernation . . .
We give thanks!
For the caves that harbored our ancient ancestors . . .
We give thanks!
For the cellars that keep us safe from storms . . .
We give thanks!
For the wombs that provide our first nourishment . . .
We give thanks!
For the darkness of suffering that can deepen our appreciation of life
and strengthen our connection to one another . . .
We give thanks!
For the dark night of the soul
that prepares us for the rising of the spirit . . .
We give thanks!
Let us take a moment, silently,
to add our own private thanks for the gifts that come to us in the dark.
[A time of silence is kept.]
May we stay connected. Connected to this earth, one planet, one people, one transcending spirit among us all. May we stay connected, to our ancestors, to our kindred, to the generations yet to come. May we stay connected in the truths our communities hold dear and the explorations each of us make as we discover who we are and whose we are. And may stay connected and pay attention to this moment, this very night.
Light of our hearts’ fires burning bright,
we dream of the spring this winter’s night.
Surely the earth is turning,
is turning from dark to light.
Gathered friends in rev’rence here
to celebrate the longest night.