My soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen for the morning . . .
(Psalm 130, verse 6)
When the days get shorter, I have to admit that I get a little anxious.
I like the light. I like sunshine. I like dusk at 9pm and I like for the morning to pour in at 7am. The dimness of the season. . . I’m not so sure.
You and I are heading toward the winter solstice – December 21st. It’s the shortest day of the year. What do we do with these darker days?
For me, it’s helpful to remember that we are a seasonal people. As human beings, we have patterns. Especially as Episcopalians, we are part of a liturgical rhythm. We embrace the idea that things change. Like our Buddhist sisters and brothers, we believe that (whether we like it, or not) nothing is permanent. The seasons of the church remind us that life isn’t a one-note enterprise. We go through periods of light and periods of dark. We go through periods of comfort and seasons of discomfort. We have times of stillness and times of activity. We go through seasons during which all seems to work out in “our favor,” and seasons during which we are called to consider how life needs to spin in the direction of others. Wait a minute . . . isn’t life always about me?
No.
The seasons remind us that we are all in this together. The seasons of our planet and of our liturgical lives remind us that there is a certain amount of flexibility required in being spiritually connected. Through the seasons of life, we, and all of life, are molded and formed. We learn when to work and when to rest. We learn when to rejoice and when to sit back and appreciate the success of others. From the owls, we learn to be patient as the night slowly turns from black, to purple, to red, to orange, to yellow, to light. The psalmists knew of this wisdom. They tell us of the importance of waiting and watching for the morning.
As we approach a new season called Advent, we remember that a change of seasons calls for growth as human siblings and as disciples of Jesus of Nazareth.
We are passengers on this earth as it circles and spins around a sun that warms not only us, but all of creation. When our nights are longer, some experience a needed, necessary, prolonged warmth. What a beautiful balancing act, and we – you – are a part of it. Thanks be to God.
Keep your eyes and ears tuned for ways that you can embrace the changing seasons.
See you in church,
Charlie+
The Rev. Dr. Charlie Dupree
Rector, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church
Richmond, Virginia
Preferred pronouns: he, him, his