Prelude Melodia Africana I by Ludovico Einaudi
Opening Words by John K. Hammon, from Celebrating Christmas edited by Carl Seaburg
Now is the time of the winter solstice come upon us,
when the sun in its outward course appears to pause,
and resting, then, begins to turn again
to drive the darkness from the north.
Soon shall the frozen earth gain promise of new warmth
and burrowed seed draw of springtime birth.
So do we also meet these days
with welcome and with cheer.
Drive gloom and melancholy from our hearts,
proclaim the birth of new found hope and joy
to usher Christmas in.
Chalice Lighting (you may wish to light a candle in your own home at this point). Words by Yvonne Aburrow
At the time when the day is shortest
And the Sun shows herself only briefly above the horizon
We light this flame of hope
To represent the solstice fire on the hilltop
That ancient people lit to remind the sun to return
And we honour the cycle of the seasons
As their tides are echoed in our own lives.
Opening Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love,
be with us as we gather for worship,
each in our own place.
Help us to feel a sense of community,
even though we are physically apart.
Help us to care for each other,
in this world in which Covid has not yet gone away,
and the clouds of war and climate change overshadow us.
May we keep in touch however we can,
and help each other, however we may.
May we be grateful for the freedoms we have
and respect the wishes of others.
May we hold in our hearts all those
who are grieving, lost, alone,
suffering in any way,
Amen
Reading from The Circle of Life: the Heart’s Journey through the Seasons by Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiederkehr
There is a tendency to want to hurry from autumn to spring, to avoid the long dark days that winter brings. Many people do not like constant days bereft of light and months filled with colder temperatures. They struggle with the bleakness of the land and the emptiness of trees. Their eyes and hearts seek colour. Their spirits tire of tasting the endless gray skies. There is great rejoicing in the thought that light and warmth will soon be filling more and more of each new day.
But winter darkness has a positive side to it. As we gather to celebrate the first turn from winter to spring, we are invited to recognise and honour the beauty in the often unwanted season of winter. Let us invite our hearts to be glad for the courage winter proclaims. Let us be grateful for the wisdom winter brings in teaching us about the need for withdrawal as an essential part of renewal. Let us also encourage our spirits as Earth prepares to come forth from this time of withdrawal into a season filled with light…. Soon we will welcome the return of the sun and the coming of springtime. As we do, let us remember and embrace the positive, enriching aspects of winter’s darkness.
Alternative Lord’s Prayer
Spirit of Life and Love, here and everywhere,
May we be aware of your presence in our lives.
May our world be blessed.
May our daily needs be met,
And may our shortcomings be forgiven,
As we forgive those of others.
Give us the strength to resist wrong-doing,
The inspiration and guidance to do right,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
We are your hands in the world; help us to grow.
May we have compassion for all living beings,
And receive whatever life brings,
With courage and trust. Amen
Reading by Agnes J. Zuniga, from Celebrating Christmas edited by Carl Seaburg
Our winter begins today – the time of darkness which we know always arrives, and which, we know as surely will pass in time into seasons of light and warmth.
The seasons of the soul have their own rhythm, their own reasons:
Who knows the delight of some of us, reuniting with folk so dear?
Who knows the anguish of some among us, as our celebrations bring only a reminder of loss?
Who knows the pain of uncertainty within others, plagued with doubts and fears – will there be another winter for me?
Who can tell what hope is budding in some heart, even as our sun grows cold and white in a misting sky?
The seasons of the soul turning in their own time, in their own way (unlike seasons of earth) bring to each of us a different experience of these days of Christmastime and solstice.
We have, in this winter of earth – we have, in whatever season of the soul – the most precious gifts to give away and to keep: we have ears for hearing each other, for listening to one another’s need. We have eyes for seeing the sign, for knowing the beauty of another person, for perusing the uniqueness; eyes for telling our own unspoken stories. We have hands for reaching to help, for reaching to give and to receive – hands which hold, and caress, and forgive.
Let us then, remember the forgotten.
Let us seek to heal the injured, to nourish the weak, to revive the withered.
Let us be there to love the unloved and the dying.
Let our minds and our hearts burn with solstice fires, to prove that the human spirit lives and thrives; that whatever the season of sun or of soul, there reigns a dauntless determination to outlast, together, every dark time.
Let us be filled with the light and merriment that our celebrations bring, that we look ahead in hope and in faith to the Earth’s rebirth, and the Springtime of the soul.
Prayer by Paul Carnes, from Celebrating Christmas edited by Carl Seaburg (adapted)
Spirit of Life and Love,
As the winter solstice turns our earth
and early twilight closes down the day,
while all about, December snowfall covers our streets
and walks with its frosty garment,
we come together as people have done
from earliest times, to celebrate with flame
the waning winter and rejoice
that our globe now swings once more
towards the light.
As our burning candles bespeak this ancient faith,
so may it express our prayer,
that the power that directs our planet in its path
will set such a solstice for our hopes for our future.
From the dark hours of perversity and wrath,
we pray that sad humanity may be guided
in the path of peace, that, like our earth,
we may emerge from darkness to a brighter day.
Amen
Reading “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” by Frederick E. Gillis, from Celebrating Christmas edited by Carl Seaburg
There is something very powerful about the image of light. It has symbolized knowledge, hope, love. From ancient times, it has been a sign of the divine, the Eternal Light, the Inner Light, the Light of the World.
Light is the theme of festivals celebrated at this time of year, when days are shortest and nights are longest. By affirming that we live by the light of hope, we banish the power of the darkness that surrounds us.
The eight candles of Hanukkah proclaim our faith that freedom will not die out as long as there are steadfast and courageous people willing to uphold it.
The lights of Christmas bear witness to the Light of the World in the form of a child. What better symbol is there for the light of hope than the child – new and fresh, open to the future, able to make choices that change the course of history.
We light our lights this season to remind us that the darkness, however powerful it may seem at times, does not overcome us, that there always remains within humankind a spark of hope that can be fanned into a light illuminating the path to a new order of freedom, peace, and love.
May the light proclaimed in this season be in our lives, now and always.
Time of Stillness and Reflection words by Lyn Cox
We pause as the path of the sun reverses, seemingly holding its place for a moment of turning.
Let us delve into the gifts of darkness at the winter solstice.
We follow curiosity and contemplation down into the cold earth, taking a journey to the world below the surface.
Here we find acorns, cached by squirrels and chipmunks, perhaps to be food laid in store, or perhaps to become trees in the fullness of time.
We find the burrows of hibernating animals, those who sleep and repair.
We find seeds, including some that will not sprout unless they first wait through frost and ice.
Life finds rest and renewal in the darkness.
May those who are weary find comfort.
May those who are struggling find meaning and companionship.
May those who are injured or ill find recovery.
May those who hunger find abundance.
Let this be a time of healing.
And may the dreams of the dark lead us to share these gifts with one another.
Our imagination rises back to the surface, to life where the cold ground meets the crisp air. Here we observe life finding its way.
We observe animals eating seeds left on the ground, though the harvest is long past.
We notice the migration of birds, natural movement that allows populations to find places where they can thrive.
We observe the trees that appear to sleep, and yet hold sap that will rise again before the spring arrives.
We observe that not everything lives through the winter, and yet all that has lived returns to the earth and is transformed.
Let this be a time of resilience.
May the changing seasons bring new meaning and new insights.
May creativity and persistence lead us to find resources for all to share.
May those who migrate find safety, and may there be good news in the wind.
May transformation lead us onward.
We now lift our imagination to the sky, to the returning sun and to the brilliant winter night.
Shifting hours of light and darkness remind us that change is part of the rhythm of the universe, and so trouble does not last.
Acknowledging the gifts of darkness, we also look forward to the growing light, a change that brings glimmers of hope.
We marvel at the beauty of this time: stars unobstructed by leaves, jewels of the night shining over the land, moon and meteors inspiring us to awe and wonder.
Let this be a time of celebration.
What joy can be found, let us hold it close, blow on its embers, and share its spark.
We do not take for granted having come this far,
and we give thanks for our companions on the journey.
Musical Interlude I Giorni by Ludovico Einaudi
Address The Return of the Light
The 19th century French novelist and playwright, Honoré de Balzac wrote, “Light is a symbol of joy and life.” And like many of you, I would guess, my heart is lifted by visions of light. I do a quiet sit each morning and, at this time of year, because I am a Lark rather than an Owl, and rise early, I often witness the return of the sun at dawn from my bedroom window, as the sky changes from black to darkest blue, then to red and orange and yellow, before metamorphosing into what we call “the clear light of day.” It fills my heart with wonder at the beauty of God’s universe.
In our Unitarian services, we light a candle, a chalice light, at the beginning of each service. The symbolism of this is deep and wide-ranging. It is a symbol of life, and shared community, and also of the hope that comes from being in community, together.
The Quakers speak of “the Light within”, which is their term for the divine spark that is in each of us. This divine Light is deep within each of us, waiting to be noticed, and attended to. A divine spark residing deep within every single human being – old, young, male, female, non-binary, of whatever sexual orientation, class or race. A part of each of us that has never been wounded, never suffered grief. And I believe that it is our job, while we are here in this life, to recognise the divine spark, that of God, in others, and reach out to it in recognition and joy. So easy to write, so very hard to remember, sometimes…
But if we have eyes to see and ears to hear, there is wisdom around that can help us to recognise the Light in others, in our world. In his wonderful book, Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer, Richard Rohr explains how we can only become aware of this presence of God within us, in our lives, by detaching from our monkey-mind, ego-driven selves and finding Him/Her/It in the stillness. He argues that the busy acquisitive world we live in is the antithesis of this stillness and is the reason why it is so hard for modern people to perceive this divine Light within us all.
The Buddha, Jesus, Hafiz and many other mystical teachers all stress the importance of being awake; of being aware of what is happening in the present moment. Rohr shares an amusing conversation between a Zen master and his disciple:
“Is there anything I can do to make myself enlightened?”
“As little as you can do to make the sun rise in the morning.”
“Then of what use are the spiritual exercises you prescribe?”
“To make sure you are not asleep when the sun begins to rise.”
Rohr writes, “We cannot attain the presence of God because we’re already totally in the presence of God. What’s absent is awareness. Little do we realise that God maintains us in existence with every breath we take. As we take another, it means that God is choosing us now and now and now.”
This really came home to me a while ago, when I had a session with my spiritual director. Towards the end of it, we spoke of our relationship with God, and he shared the revelation that there is no separation between us and God, “not even the shadow of a hair’s breadth.”
In the past, I have felt moments of connection with the Divine, whatever we choose to name Him/Her/It. But the idea that there is *no* separation between us was new to me – or maybe I was not ready to receive it before. My spiritual director said that it would take time for this idea to move from my head to my heart, that I would have to sit with it for a long time before I truly experienced it. Before I can fully experience the truth of the Light within us all.
One morning shortly afterwards, I was mulling over what he had said, during my morning sit, and these words came to me (the first image came from my director, the rest are my own):
God is the sun, we are the sunbeams,
we are emanations of God.
God is the Light within us all,
reflecting and connecting with the Light around us.
God is the water, we are the ripples,
caught up in the Divine Flow.
God is the air, we are the breath,
each breath in, a breath of Life,
each breath out, a breath of Love.
God is the One Tree, we are the branches,
growing out of the Source of Being.
God is the fire, we are the sparks,
lighting up our universe from within.
God is Love, we are lovers,
sharing, caring, healing, understanding.
There is no separation between us,
“not even the shadow of a hair’s breadth”.
We are working parts of God.
I share this with you as a symbol of hope for the year to come. Lyn Cox, whose beautiful words we heard in our Time of Stillness and Reflection, has it right. The inevitable return of Spring, which is beginning even now, in the depths of winter, as the light returns and the days grow longer, is a powerful symbol of hope, a reminder of the divine Light.
And yet, there is another side to the Winter Solstice. It is the time of year when the earth turns back towards the light, a time of renewal and hope. But it is also a time to appreciate the necessity of the cyclical nature of things – and to celebrate the need for withdrawal as an essential part of renewal. So I appreciate the modern Pagan interpretation of winter as a time of stillness, darkness, dormancy, rest. In the lead up to the Christmas season (and, by the way, how did two or even twelve days, turn into a “season”?) many of us will feeling not quiet and peaceful, but frazzled and exhausted. Human beings are not supposed to operate at peak capacity 365 days a year. It isn’t natural, and it sure is wearing. We all need some “down time” to rest, nourish our bodies and our souls, and prepare for the year ahead.
UUA author, Stephanie Noble reminds us, “Dark is the rich fertile earth that cradles the seed, nourishing growth. Dark is the soft night that cradles us to rest… Dark is the gestation of our deep and knowing self. Dark is the cave where we rest and renew the soul.”
Yet how many of us, in the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season, have time to rest, and nourish ourselves? Only too often, I am afraid, we end up feeling shattered, rather than rested, as we try to meet all the demands of this season of conspicuous consumption. How often do we give ourselves the chance to stop, to rest, to replenish our souls?
It is only too easy to rush from task to task, ticking off items on the to-do list, and then straight on to the next one. Yet there are times when being busy, busy, busy, just gets too much. The thought crosses our minds: “Stop the world! I want to get off!” But it won’t stop, so we have to consciously make the effort to schedule some time to step off our self-imposed treadmills of busy-work.
So if we can, perhaps, we might all consider committing to spending the next few days in Sabbath rest, the deep breath before the plunge into Christmas proper. And perhaps even resolving to carve out a regular rest day each week during 2025. Because it is only when we stop, only when we take time out to nourish ourselves, that we can appreciate the Light.
What we choose to do with our time of rest and silence will be up to each one of us. Every person has different ways of relaxing. I love reading and crochet and stitching and walking in the Forest, but the ideal for me is to follow the Quaker advice and, “find a way into the silence which allows us to deepen our awareness of the divine and to find the inward source of our strength.”
Which may well represent a return of our own Inner Light, however we might interpret that phrase.
May your Christmas be peaceful and restful, and blessed with light and friendship.
Closing Words
Spirit of Life and Love,
Our time together is drawing to a close.
May we choose to celebrate the return of the light,
Yet also appreciate the season of dormancy
And rest which Winter offers us.
May we share the love we feel,
may we look out for each other,
and may we keep up our hearts,
being grateful for the many blessings in our lives,
now and in the days to come, Amen
Postlude Melodia Africana II by Ludovico Einaudi