Earth-Centered Spirituality Group

Sunday Sermon Archives

Embracing the Darkness

A sermon delivered to the Concord Unitarian Universalist Church, December 10, 2001, by Lorraine Ellis, Earth-Centered Spirituality Group

I was raised a Methodist, but have wavered among atheism, agnosticism and theism since the age of 12. In the 23 years between the age of 12 and the time I discovered paganism, there were times when I was absolutely sure there is a god. Without exception, those moments did not come while I was in a church, or during church activities. They did not come while I listened to a great sermon, or read religious literature nor during moments of prayer in my kitchen or bedroom. This certitude came when I was outside, surrounded by nature, with both it’s beauty and its cruelty. It was while experiencing the vastness and power of nature and the cosmos, that I knew, for sure, that we do not make this journey alone.

About 4 years ago, when I discovered the concept of earth-centered religion, and began to study paganism in particular, it was not difficult for me to understand and appreciate a nature-based approach to deity. For me, earth, nature, god, and humans became merged into one larger living, breathing entity. They could no longer be separated.

The second thing about earth-centered religions that struck me and profoundly changed me was its emphasis on cycles – the natural cycles of birth, life, death and re-birth, the cycles of the seasons, the circles within circles. I hadn’t known it, but my body had been craving an understanding of cycles. An understanding that nature and life go on as they should, day after day, season after season. That nothing, good or bad, truly lasts forever, and that everything is continually being reborn and reshaped, each in it’s own cycle and season.

Before I understood this, I had suffered for years with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Beginning in late October, I took anti-depressants to get through the winter, and was able to go off them sometime in late spring. For six months out of every twelve I was dependent upon chemicals to ease my body and mind’s anxiety about winter and the dark time of the year. This went on for 8 years.
From the very first year that I began observing the passage of the seasons, as they relate to the greater cycle of the year, the tension eased. That first year, as the end of October approached, I was NOT filled with a sense of dread. I was not tired and depressed, and I did not make that call to my doctor for the annual prescription. I got through. I got through with flying colors. And I haven’t touched a Prozac in four years.

So what really changed? How was this medical miracle achieved? What changed is the meaning and significance I placed on the element of darkness, and on the season of winter.

I’m telling you nothing new when I point out that the days began getting shorter after the summer solstice, which was a 15 hour day. Perhaps you didn’t really notice it until the fall equinox in September, when daylight hours had reduced to 12. By November 1, the halfway point between the fall equinox and the winter solstice, the daylight hours had dwindled to ten and a half a day. There will be a mere nine hours of daylight at Winter Solstice, just 11 days from now. This is a natural and normal condition of living in the Northern Hemisphere, yet each fall many people anticipate the encroaching darkness with dread and depression. For several weeks each year many of us get up in the dark, drive to work in pre-dawn gloom, spend the entire day in a windowless office, and drive home in the dark. The only time we see the sun is on weekends, when we're not too busy preparing for the holiday season ahead.

Science tells us that decreased exposure to sunlight triggers biological and metabolic changes that suppress the production of certain enzymes in the brain, leading to listlessness, irritability, melancholy, and outright depression in some people. While most people do not become clinically depressed during the winter, many do experience a certain sense of dismay when it becomes clear that the world will once again be in the grip of winter, and its ensuing darkness.
What is it about darkness that causes such dread? Night is as natural and normal as Day. Yet over the centuries nighttime, darkness, and blackness have become synonymous with evil, fear, distrust and treachery. Just look at our language - "dark night of the soul," "black-hearted," "dark personality," "under cover of night," the Star Wars "Dark Side," and of course, "the Prince of Darkness."

For our ancient ancestors, the nighttime was to be feared. The darkness hid any number of dangers, from predators to invasions. But modern industrialized peoples, with enough electricity to light up entire cities with ease, have left many of those dangers behind.

I don't claim to be a scholar in this area, but perhaps nighttime and darkness have became demonized in the same way that the early church polarized deity into ultimate good and ultimate evil. In most pre-Christian religions, including Judaism, deity was very much a balance of good and evil, of positive and negative. As the Christian God came to symbolize ultimate good, there had to be a balancing ultimate evil, hence the development of the concept of Satan.

For those of us raised in today's Christian culture (which influence spreads far beyond the doors of the church building), perhaps the first step in overcoming the dread of winter and darkness is to remember and understand their natural place in the world and in the cycle of life.

For the ancient pre-Christian, agrarian cultures of northern Europe and the British Isles, the entire fall season was spent hurriedly gathering in the crops, slaughtering the domestic animals that would be too expensive to feed over the winter, putting up stores of food for the cold months and preparing the home and property for winter. It was grueling and backbreaking work. By November 1 (on our calendars), the final harvest would have been brought in and the fields burned over to return their energy to the earth for next year's crops. With the hard physical labor of the harvest behind them, the ancient pagans of Britain celebrated the festival of Samhain, the end of summer, and the end of the year. Northern Europeans celebrated similar festivals under other names. It was a time to give thanks for the summer's gifts, and to finally turn to introspective pursuits, such as reflecting on the past year and making plans for the next. Death, as a natural part of life, was acknowledged and honored, along with ancestors and loved ones who had died in the previous year. The next few weeks could be approached as a time of rest and recuperation. Colder weather often forced folks inside, where they could attend to more restful domestic pursuits such as weaving, the mending of clothes and farm implements, conversation and introspection. The most productive periods of the day were during daylight hours, so when night fell earlier, folks did what came naturally - they blew out the flames of precious candles and lamps and went to bed early. They rested, emotionally and physically, until the days lengthened and the world thawed enough to begin thinking about the birth of new livestock and the planting of the next season's crops. In some traditions, it was believe that the weeks between Samhain and Yule (an ancient Norse name for the Winter Solstice) belonged neither to the last year, nor to the next, but were rather a period of "limbo" in which anything, especially supernatural things, could happen. This was a good reason to "lie low," tend quietly to life, and not make too many waves. Another reason to retreat and take protective care of oneself.

Our modern, commercialized, and technologically advanced world has lost touch with the ancient, simple, natural, and cyclical pattern of life. As soon as the leaves begin to fall, we make plans for Thanksgiving that no doubt involve a great deal of hard work, both emotional and physical. As soon as Thanksgiving is over and the turkey is de-boned, we launch full tilt into the December holiday season. Electric lights blaze late into the night as we pursue what has now become the traditional winter activity – preparing for Christmas. Even those of us who do not celebrate a religious Christmas often cannot help but get caught up in the bustle and frantic activity of the season. Even if we don't go crazy buying presents for everyone we know, we are exposed to the stress and fatigue of those who do. Those who plan a quiet celebration at home are often also involved in office Christmas parties, extended family gatherings, and retail craziness. It's nearly impossible to escape. At the very moment Earth Mother is telling us to slow down, we are busier than ever!

This year, why not see what you can do to embrace the beauty and comfort of darkness? Think about the way you come home at night. You probably park the car (perhaps in a garage that leads directly to the house). You gather up your bundles, hurry to the door, unlock it, rush inside where it's warm and turn on the light. How often do you stop outside to look up? The cold clear air of winter offers the perfect reason to look up at night. Those who do are often rewarded with a stunning cascade of stars spilling across the heavens. The moon often seems bigger and brighter in the winter, and the shadows cast by the moon on snow-covered lawns and fields are strikingly beautiful. Take a moment, slow down, step out into the driveway or yard, and JUST LOOK UP. Breathe in the clean, refreshing air and ground yourself to the Earth.

Once inside your warm home, try to find time to appreciate the quiet and darkness. Turn off the TV, stereo, and computer. Light some candles or, if you're lucky enough to have a fireplace, build a fire and spend some time gazing into the flames. Surround yourself in a warm blanket of darkness like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Read by candle or firelight. Whittle. Knit. Sew. Contemplate. Meditate. Pray. Above all, rest. This is the time set aside by Nature Herself to catch up on rest, to think, to dream, to recharge your batteries. As in ancient pagan mythology, you are like the great Sun God - resting and growing in the dark, safe womb of the Earth Goddess, awaiting re-birth at the winter solstice. It's ok to rest. It's ok to take care of yourself. It's right and natural to slow down at this time of year. When you do, when you connect with the darkness around you and become comfortable with it, you may finally experience the true peace of the season.

(c)2001, Lorraine Ellis