Holy Darkness
It has been a long and hard month for me and for many of my friends. Three weeks ago we buried a great friend, mentor, and priest who died very unexpectedly. We had all met Fr. Gary (and each other) through diocesan retreat and leadership programs and over the years we have become close friends, sharing in each other's lives and ministry adventures. There is nothing like World Youth Day or a seven-day leadership program to forge friendships! Gary was a part of each of those moments and was also the priest who heard our confessions, celebrated special liturgies with us, presided at most of my friends' marriages, and baptized their children. His funeral and wake were exceedingly hard and the pain of his loss is not something that will go away quickly.
But that is not all that my friends are dealing with these days. One friend's mom has been in the hospital for three weeks, desperately trying to recover from cancer surgery before starting chemo and radiation. Another couple's marriage has ended and there is great loss and sadness as they begin the process of separation and divorce. Two other friends have been given the "unexplained infertility" diagnosis that leaves them confused and saddened and wondering if they will ever be able to have children. And those are just the stories that I know about.
Amidst all of this sadness, I was drawn to an Advent reflection written a few years ago by Ronald Rolheiser, entitled "Advent: Preparing for the Sublime." In it he talks about the importance of waiting, of sublimation, of fasting. True love, or true anything, takes time and waiting and tension to become what it is intended to be. A symphony is not written in two hours. It is in the waiting that we discover new things about ourselves and about the world.
My friend whose mom is battling cancer is discovering that living in the moment has some blessings. There is no time for defensiveness or taking offense when all hands are locked together to support a family member. They still fight, but forgiveness is easier to extend and tensions quickly die with the next crisis. As their family waits, they find healing for strained relationships and new insights into what is most important to them.
My friend who is separating from her husband is living in the tension of the in-between. As she said, "I thought that this is what God wanted for me, and now I just don't know what God wants anymore." In many ways she is fasting-from the love she once shared. She has no idea what the future will hold or when the feast might begin for her again. Until then, she must wait and hope and heal.
And all of us who are grieving Fr. Gary are waiting for the pain of loss to leave us. When will a simple memory or word no longer bring tears to our eyes? And yet, in this pain and loss, we find ways to be gentle with each other. We say "I love you" more freely and let slide things that might have previously annoyed. We are learning through our tears and will be different because of them.
Dan Schutte wrote a song called Holy Darkness, inspired by St. John of the Cross which resonates with these experiences.
Holy darkness, blessed night
heaven's answer hidden from our sight.
As we await you, O God of silence,
we embrace your holy night.
I have tried you in fires of affliction;
I have taught your soul to grieve.
In the barren soil of your loneliness,
there I will plant my seed.
He goes on to sing "In your deepest hour of darkness I will give you wealth untold." I don't know what each of us will learn as we journey through the struggles of life, loss, and death. God's seed is unique to each of us. I do know that these are the moments that provide clarity. Through the tension we will come to find something beautiful and sublime, but it will take time.
Regardless of all else going on in your life, Advent is here and it is a great time to celebrate the fast, the wait. In the busyness of the preparations for Christmas, can you take some time to wait for the Christ child? Can you empty yourself enough to be filled again with the joy of God-made-human?
Let us work hard in the next two weeks to embrace this time of waiting and to learn what we can from it.
We pray:
God of Waiting, God of Wonder, God of the Holy Darkness,
Give us courage to wait, and hope, and live in tension.
Give us courage to embrace the fast so that we can feast at your table.
Bless this time of waiting and make us holy through it. Amen.
Related Link:
Advent: Waiting for the Sublime, Ronald Rolheiser
Spirit Compass reflections are developed in partnership
with the Center for Ministry Development.