Faith and Values: Ruminating on darkness and light at Christmas

What if the place of Jesus’ birth is actually less important than his being born in the deep dark interrupted by a lamp or lit torch? We can disagree whether the manger was in a cave or a stable filled with animals beneath a family’s home.

But that can distract us from the fact it was very dark for Mary, Joseph and Jesus. Only lamp or torchlight helped dispel their dark. I wonder if, in this difficult miracle moment, they remembered the writer of Psalm 139:12 as he called out to God: “but even darkness is not dark for you, and the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are the same to you.”

If they did remember, they also sensed God’s presence with them in that dark space. The light helped, of course. But they were surrounded by dark. And God was also in the darkness.

I think that darkness has a seriously distorted reputation. Monsters and boogeymen prowl in our childhood memories. Crime “only happens” in the dark (wrong!). Depression of many kinds can be described as “dark nights of the soul.” Feel free to add your own negative experiences or perceptions of darkness.

But great spiritual growth happens in the dark, also. Luke 2:19 reports that Mary pondered the ecstatic affirmations from the shepherds’ visit to the manger. She couldn’t see clearly into Jesus’ future, but that future was cause for her to wonder – and hope – while living in her dark/light moment.

I thought of Mary’s pondering in the dark when I read of Carlo Carretto, a member of the Little Brothers of Jesus who worked among the poor in northern Africa. He spoke of his call to the contemplative life this way: “I experienced it deeply – in the depth which only faith can provide and where darkness is absolute.”

I imagine Mary understood darkness and light as the writer of Psalm 139 did, that God is present in both. That both can be “good” and “bad.”

One big thing we forget about darkness and light is they aren’t artificial objects to categorize as “either/or.” Darkness and light are holy creations that are “both/and.” Darkness can contain bad, but it also is necessary for seeds to grow (literally and spiritually). Light can be good, but it can also blind us to the part of our human capabilities that can harm others or ourselves.

One of my favorite spiritual-growth books is “Learning to Walk in the Dark,” by Barbara Brown Taylor. She is skeptical of what she calls “full solar spirituality,” the exhausting effort to always live on the sunny side, to stay in the light of God 24/7. Taylor finds it healthier to embrace a kind of “lunar spirituality,” in which darkness and light wax and wane with the seasons that our spirits honestly experience.

Whatever Mary pondered in her heart – both prebirth and after Jesus was born – she likely reflected a lunar spirituality. It let her be honest with herself, even as she let go of her ego-fears to God as she had experienced God. Darkness was familiar for Mary. It may have contained fears for her; but she also found God there.

So often, we bring our ego-created lies and fears with us into the dark, where we can believe no one will see them. But surprise of surprises: Once our heart’s eyes get accustomed to the dark, and we are courageous, we realize truth (call it “God,” if you like) is already there, waiting for us to discover it. God is seen in the light, but God is actually found in the dark.

The Rev. Paul Graves, a Sandpoint resident and retired United Methodist minister, can be contacted at elderadvocates@nctv.com.