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black christmas
Dec. 26th, 2005 01:00 amMany of us attend candlelight services on Christmas eve. The lighting of a candle for each person in a dark midnight symbolizes the light brought to us by entrance of Christ into this world. Each of us carry that light and only recieve it from another person. Gathered together, those lights illuminate an entire sanctuary.
Try this experiment at home. Select a windowless room. Turn out every light you can in that room and close the door. Now light one candle. Notice how dark the room remains. Now light two. Continue noticing the intense darkness. Now attempt a task you would typically do in the room. If it is a bathroom, take a shower. In a bedroom, change your clothes. Do this using only the light of the candles at hand.
You are likely to notice how difficult it is to shed candlelight upon objects you are considering. Everyday tasks become much more difficult with the added element of tending the light. Showering may be impossible.
How much we take abundant light for granted! This morning we celebrated Christmas without power. We opened presents under a dark tree, lit by morning light and advent candles. Some presents stayed in their boxes, rendered useless. Showering proved risky due to low hot water supplies. We ate in a half-darkened kitchen, thankful for propane burners on barbecues. We even managed french toast. But always a darkness on the edges of the room, a fading daylight, rain.
Without power, darkness is ever present, and our weapons against it are feeble.
How easily we forget the significance of a single candle when no other light can be found. At the end of the service the lights come back on and the candles go out, waiting for another year. PUD arrives and the computers come back on.
But I am thankful for our short time without power. What a thin line between our comfortable lives and total helplessness! Cold showers, warm milk, and dark rooms. Walking around flipping lightswitches in vain. All the will we summon is vanity without the great engines of civilazation behind us. How will we fare when they are gone? Who will light the way when only candles remain?
Try this experiment at home. Select a windowless room. Turn out every light you can in that room and close the door. Now light one candle. Notice how dark the room remains. Now light two. Continue noticing the intense darkness. Now attempt a task you would typically do in the room. If it is a bathroom, take a shower. In a bedroom, change your clothes. Do this using only the light of the candles at hand.
You are likely to notice how difficult it is to shed candlelight upon objects you are considering. Everyday tasks become much more difficult with the added element of tending the light. Showering may be impossible.
How much we take abundant light for granted! This morning we celebrated Christmas without power. We opened presents under a dark tree, lit by morning light and advent candles. Some presents stayed in their boxes, rendered useless. Showering proved risky due to low hot water supplies. We ate in a half-darkened kitchen, thankful for propane burners on barbecues. We even managed french toast. But always a darkness on the edges of the room, a fading daylight, rain.
Without power, darkness is ever present, and our weapons against it are feeble.
How easily we forget the significance of a single candle when no other light can be found. At the end of the service the lights come back on and the candles go out, waiting for another year. PUD arrives and the computers come back on.
But I am thankful for our short time without power. What a thin line between our comfortable lives and total helplessness! Cold showers, warm milk, and dark rooms. Walking around flipping lightswitches in vain. All the will we summon is vanity without the great engines of civilazation behind us. How will we fare when they are gone? Who will light the way when only candles remain?
