The Winter Solstice Blues

In the midst of the darkness, don’t forget the light

Today is the winter solstice—the darkest day of the year. The last time I had looked outside this morning was at 9am. The sun had only just risen (though, as overcast as it was, it was difficult to tell). The sun will set at 4:16pm.

That’s less than 8 hours of sunlight.

Dark days like this can be crushing if we don’t remember that the solstice heralds the beginning of a renewal. From this day forward, the world (at least in the northern hemisphere) will only get brighter. The light will return, slowly, but surely. But it can be tough, sometimes, to remember this simple fact.

With that in mind, I thought I would share a sermon I had the pleasure of listening to at the start of the year. It was one of the first times I had ever visited the Unitarian Church of Edmonton, and it had a great impact on me. I thought of it early this morning, before I began work for the day, and decided to read it.

While a little something is lost in absence of Rev. Ann Barker’s excellent delivery, the message stands true even in the written form. And, I think, even if you aren’t religious at all.

The light may be slowly returning, yet the dark still presses down hard upon us. This service is an exploration of darkness – themes and realities that shape our lives – in pursuit of sustainable, renewable sources of light.

84 minutes. We are three weeks past Winter Solstice and we have regained 84 minutes of visible sun already … it will be 88 tomorrow. That promise of light returning – it will be 92 minutes, more than an hour and a half of restored visibility and access to vitamin D–filled daylight, by Tuesday – that promise of light returning is dependable. We can count on it. It happens year after year, expected and reliable, like a trustworthy old friend who never forgets your birthday, but shows up year after consistent year. You could set your clock by it.

Out of the darkness, there is light.

Read the entire sermon here (opens as a PDF).