The Longest Night (part 1)

“For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples…” (Isaiah 60:2a)

This morning was a cloudy, wet, gray, dreary morning. So I did what any normal person would do; I got up and said to myself, “It’s a perfect day for pictures.” (To be honest, gray days don’t usually make for the best photography; however, when you want a moody photo, it’s hard to beat a foggy morning) I went to the cemetery down the street from the manse, and snapped a few shots. 

 

Happy Monday, right?

 

Actually, I thought the gray moodiness of the morning was appropriate for today, the winter solstice – our longest night of the year. And for many people, 2020 has been a series of “longest nights”: a worldwide pandemic that hits us in waves; extended isolation from family and friends; national turmoil on the social, racial, and political fronts; economic uncertainty… I’m sure you can add your own reasons why this year seems to be one prolonged “longest night.”

 

As people of faith, it’s important to recognize the stark reality of the darkness in which we find ourselves. A quick reading of Scripture – especially the psalms – will reveal that it is perfectly normal for us to lament the darkness that enshrouds us. I say this because this time of year we need to remember that not everybody is merry and bright. For many, this will be the first Christmas without loved ones. For others, this will be the first Christmas since their family was fractured by divorce. For still others, this season adds salt to the wounds of their soul because, already struggling just to keep a roof over their heads, they cannot afford to buy gifts for their children. And for many, life itself is simply a struggle they face every day.

 

So, while a good number of us are finding ways to inject happiness into the strange and challenging year that 2020 has been, please be mindful that there are many others for whom the nights are always long. Find ways to reach out to them, and let them know they are not alone. Send them a note, call them, text them, take a small gift to them -- anything to let them know that someone is with them in the darkness.

 

Normally, I try to end on a high note. After all, that’s what we’re told to do, right – be upbeat, be optimistic? But today, I think I’m just going to be mindful of the darkness, because it is important that we not deny the reality of the darkness that enshrouds our world. Darkness isn’t all bad; if nothing else, darkness convinces us that we need a Savior, someone who can dispel the darkness with Light.

 

And on that note, I’m simply going to end by saying, “to be continued…”