Light against the dark
Every night, as our kids brush their teeth and get ready for bed, I take our dog out for a walk. We don’t go far, just long enough for her to take care of business and for me to tell God the day’s worries and joys. These last few weeks, it’s also given Pepper the opportunity to protect me from blow-up Halloween decorations by barking ferociously at them. (She’s a good guard dog, never once has one of those skeletons even come close.) But, more importantly, we get to look at pumpkins.
It’s wonderful that, even with all the fancy decorations available, people still take the time to carve pumpkins. They still put candles inside them to bring a bit of light and joy into the night. Some are elaborately designed and expertly cut while others have simple triangle eyes and awkward teeth. But all of them glow their orange light into the night.
As I walk at night, with my own worries for this world and the grief of so many weighing so heavily on my heart, I see those candles and feel a bit of hope. Those jack-o-lanterns remind me of other candles that are lit – from the ones that shine from our altar to the candles given to our newly baptized and to the many small flames flickering in remembrance during All Saints’ worship.
Those flames, burning bright against the darkness remind me of Dr. Martin Luther King who said, “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
From the time we received those candles in our baptism, we get to be like jack-o-lanterns. As we say to the newly baptized: “let the light of Christ so shine in you that other people will glorify God with their own generous lives and open hearts.” These words are echoes to what Jesus said, when he taught his followers, “you are the light of the world . . . let your light so shine before others.”
We often hear these words as encouragement not to let our God-given talents go to waste. But maybe there’s more to it. Jesus invites us to be light that dispels darkness. Our actions and words can weaken the suffocating power of hate. Our compassion radiates into nights full of fear and grief. All we need to do is let our little lights shine through our own awkward smiles, all around the neighborhood, refusing to hide our brilliance under a bushel.
Those pumpkins set out on people’s porches can inspire courageous acts of love. In everything we do, from the votes we cast this midterm to the ways we treat our neighbors, we can choose to either bring more light or add to the darkness devoid of stars. Simple acts have light-bearing power. Choosing kindness. Actually listening to someone with whom we disagree. Refusing to believe lies based on prejudice. Showing up to help those who can’t afford food or medicine or gas. Interrupting speech that dehumanizes. Praying and playing and laughing together.
We aren’t single candles attempting to stave off the shadows alone. We’re surrounded by all the saints, both the living and the dead. This weekend, as we celebrate All Saints’ Day, we remember those who modeled what it looks like to put our hope and trust in God. We’ll light candles and give thanks for those beloved ones whose lives spread joy like the sun. Even in a world where so much haunts us, we light candles, trusting that life is stronger than death, goodness stronger than evil, and light more powerful than darkness.
