As Advent draws to a close and Christmas is upon us, I thought it would be helpful during these hectic days to reflect on the darkness of Advent in our time of preparation. Darkness can reveal much that is obscured in the light.
The Incarnation always brings good news, but it
never minimizes the realness of our pain. Advent declares the hope that a light
is coming, but first it declares the truth that the world right now is so very
dark. —Stephanie Duncan Smith
Song of the Soul By John of the Cross, trans. By Mirabai Starr
On a dark night, inflamed by
love-longing. O exquisite risk. Undetected, I slipped away. My house, at
last, grown still.
Secure in the darkness, I climb the
secret ladder in disguise. O exquisite risk. Concealed by the darkness,
my house, at last, grown still.
That sweet night, a secret, nobody saw
me. I did not see a thing. No other light, no other guide than the one
burning in my heart.
This light leads the way more clearly
than the risen son to where he was waiting for me. The one I knew so
intimately, in a place where no one could find us.
O night that guided me. O night,
sweeter than sunrise. O night that joins lover with beloved. Lover
transformed in beloved.
Upon my blossoming breast, which I
cultivated just for him, he drifted into sleep. And while I caressed him,
a cedar breeze touched the air.
Wind blew down from the tower, parting
the locks of his hair. With his gentle hand he wounded my neck, and all
my senses were suspended.
I lost myself, forgot myself. I lay my
face against the beloved’s face. Everything fell away. And I left myself
behind, abandoning my cares among the lilies, forgotten.
Have a
blessed and Merry Christmas
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