Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday February 2, 2025 – Candlemas
Scripture: Luke 2:22-40
Back on December 21, on the longest night of the year, a group of determined
souls braved the darkness of the night, braved the frigid temperatures and
howling winds, braved the tail end of the Nor’easter that had blown through
that day, and gathered in the parking lot at Long Reach United Church and circled around a bonfire and sang.
Into the shadows of the longest night, we sang about the birth of the Light of
the World. We sang songs about a baby
who was born into a time and place of Empire and oppression, yet who would
teach a way of unconditional love. We
sang songs about this baby’s mother; who, herself, sang about the powerful
being brought down from their thrones, the hungry being filled with good
things, and tech billionaires, I mean, the rich being sent away empty
handed. We sang songs about the baby’s
father who, fearing for the life of his family, took them and fled for refuge
to a foreign land.
Into the shadows of the longest night, we sang about the birth of the Light of
the World. We sang our songs, trusting
that the night isn’t going to last for ever and the daylight will return. We sang our songs, trusting that the cold and
snow of winter will eventually give way to the warmth and life of spring. We sang our songs of hope, trusting that the
light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never overwhelm it.
As I mentioned earlier, today, the beginning of February, is a pivot-time in
the seasonal calendar. We are half-way
between that Winter Solstice, and the Spring Equinox when the hours of daylight
will equal the hours of night. This is
the time of year when the lengthening of days begins to accelerate, and we will
start to notice, almost day-by-day, the increasing light. We have come through the darkest season that
began at the beginning of November, and carried through the Solstice, until
now, when we on the other side. Our ancient Celtic
ancestors celebrated Imbolc at this time of year – the returning of the light
and the promise of spring.
And in the church calendar, we also celebrate at this time. As well as Groundhog Day and Imbolc, today
also holds three different church festivals.
It is the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, when we remember that
Jesus was presented at the temple, as his parent’s first-born son. We remember that his arrival was celebrated
by the prophet Anna and by the prophet Simeon.
Today is also the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin. According to the Jewish Law, 40 days after
giving birth, Mary had to undergo purification rituals in order to become
ritually pure again – and today is 40 days after Christmas. And finally, the church also celebrates
Candlemas on this day – a day when families would bring their candles to the
church to be blessed – the Light of the World blessing the light of the home,
in a season when the light is returning to the world.
And when you look at the words that Simeon spoke when he held the infant Jesus,
one of the names that he gives to Jesus is “a light for revelation.” Jesus, the Light of the World, has the power
to reveal what was previously hidden.
Jesus is the light by which we can see everything clearly.
If you are anything like me, you are probably sick of hearing about and
thinking about and talking about politics; yet if you are like me, that is
likely the thing that is top-of-mind for most of us in this present
moment. There is the anxiety and
uncertainty over yesterday’s tariff announcement and what that will mean not
only for the Canadian economy, but also for our personal cost of living. There is the grief over all of the stories we
are hearing. There is fear that such
regressive politics could make their way north of the border. To me, sometimes it feels as though we are
currently living through that winter solstice, that longest night when it feels
as though the light will never return.
But if this is a longest-night moment, then our response should be the same as
it was back in December when we braved the cold and snow and wind and darkness,
and gathered to kindle a fire against the night and sing. For the light of that fire proclaimed that
the darkness can never win – it only takes a single match to shatter the
darkness of the night, and just think of the power if every single follower of
the Light of the World carried just a single match of hope.
So we light our fire against the night, and we gather together. As our United Church of Canada Creed says,
“We are not alone.” We know that we are
never alone – not only is God with us, but we are together, as a community,
building this fire against the night.
So we light our fire against the night, and we gather together, and we
sing. We sing our songs of
resistance. We sing our songs of
hope. We sing our songs of peace. We sing our songs of justice. And as we sing our songs, we invite the world
to join in.
And as we light our fire, as we gather together, as we sing, we trust that the
Light of the World who was born into the time of the longest night will be a
light of revelation for the world. We
trust that the light of Christ will help us to see places of goodness and
beauty and love in the world, and once we see these places, we celebrate
them. We trust that the light of Christ
will expose the places of oppression and corruption so that the world can see
them clearly, and in doing so, end them.
And because we trust in the light of Christ, the Light of the World, the light
of revelation, we trust that, even in the longest night, the darkness can never
win.
And may the Holy Spirit work in all of us, so that we can be people who sing
God’s hope with everything that we say and with everything that we do. May the Holy Spirit work in all of us, so
that we can be people who gather together and uphold one another, even on the
longest, coldest night. And may the Holy
Spirit work in all of us, so that we can be people who always kindle fires of
hope against the night. Amen.
Lighting a Fire Against the Night
Photo Credit: K. Jones
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