LIVING WITH THE RHYTHM OF LIGHT AND DARK
Earlier this week, our neighbors needed a ride to Bradley to catch a flight to visit their new grandbaby in California and his proud parents. Since they were planning an extended stay, they didn’t want to leave their car in a parking lot for such a long time. Their flight left for California at 5:30 a.m. So I set my alarm for 2:30 a.m. and stumbled out of bed to give them a ride. Since the moon hadn’t risen, it was pitch-black outside. When I finally returned home about 4:30 a.m., it was no longer totally dark. There was enough light from the approaching sunrise to see every tree and shrub in our lawn. Already “civil twilight,” which is defined as when the sun is no more than six degrees below the horizon and there is enough light to carry on normal activities, begins at 4:42 a.m.
We are approaching the longest day of the year. The summer solstice will be June 20 or less than two weeks from now. At that point, I am sorry to report, our days will slowly begin to grow shorter and shorter until we reach late December’s winter solstice.
Our planet Earth is estimated to be about 4.5 billion years old. And through those billions of years, it has changed shape and form many times. Sometimes very suddenly. Sometimes slowly. Mountain ranges have pushed up to great heights only to be worn down by wind and water or covered in glaciers. Seas have spread across vast parts of the planet only to shrink or change their size and depth. Continents have crashed together and then slowly split apart into the shapes familiar to us on our maps. Not even the magnetic poles have remained fixed points. Even now the magnetic north pole is slowly moving eastward from northern Canada toward Siberia at about seven miles per year. Species have appeared and gone extinct at least five times and some scientists propose that we are in the midst of a sixth great extinction.
Yet one constant feature of our planet has been the more or less constant alternation between light and dark, between day and night. The sun has always risen in the east and set in the west. The length of the day has varied over time but not by a great degree. Which is all to say that one of the most fundamental features of every living creature is our adjustment to this daily cycle of day and night, light and dark. It is ancient, shared, and predictable. Every living thing expects light and dark in recurrent cycles of longer and shorter nights. The flower closes at night and opens in the morning. The African daisy opens in the morning and closes at night. The bee ends its shift in search of pollen as the sun sets while the nighttime pollinators prepare for their night of flitting here and there.
Our human eyes are mostly adapted for daytime light. But with the onset of darkness our retinas change their shape. If we are patient on a dark evening, the rods in our eyes become more active. They are very light sensitive but unlike our eye’s cones they provide no information about color or wavelength. Like what I saw on my early morning return from Bradley airport, we see everything in gray tones. We can actually see quite well in the dark, if we are patient enough to let this transition from rods to cones slowly unfold. We usually inhibit our night vision by our use of flashlights, streetlamps, and porch lights.
I tried to go back to bed after returning from taking our neighbors to the airport in the wee hours of the morning. But my mind kept thinking about light and darkness, day and night. Maybe because this rhythm of circadian rhythm of day and night is so basic to life on our planet, I began to think of all the ways and places this theme is voices, especially in the bible.
The bible and Christian tradition are full of these images. “Even the darkness is not dark to You,” the psalmist sings (Ps. 139:12), “the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.” Or in Psalm 31:9, the author cries out to God, “With you is the foundation of life; and in your light we see light.” St. John of the Cross speaks of the Christians “dark night of the soul.” Yet he also wrote a collection of “Sayings of light and love.”
In our lives we experience the rhythm of joy and grief, of times when life is easy and when it is difficult. Sometimes when the way ahead isn’t clear, we can think we are stuck forever where we are now in some low point. But usually, at some point when we least expect it, that pre-dawn twilight will begin to lift the darkness. It’s hard to remember, as Lamentations 3:22-23 says, “Just like the sunrise is sure to come, God’s love and mercy are always there for us too. These mercies from Him never run out—they’re as new each day as the dawn itself. This promise shows us how much He cares, giving hope to all who believe.”
And just as our eyes need time for the cones and rods to adjust in order for us to see clearly in the night, if we are patient enough with our lives and the world allow our eyes of faith to adjust, we begin to see even in the deepest night that there is enough light to walk safely forward. I think this prayer by Karen Le Mouton, a British pastor, captures this truth:
Creator God, dweller in darkness, yet as light to you; from darkness you created earth, day and night, light and dark.
Jesus, light of the world, in darkness treasures are illuminated by your light, seen brightest in darkness.
Holy Spirit, revealer of treasures; give us strength to persevere searching for the light in the darkest times of life’s journey.
Holy Trinity, challenge me to befriend the darkness with your comforting presence; in time you will reveal hidden treasures that can be found amid suffering, pain and grief; then I will see things differently. Help me dig deep, mining for these treasures produced by immense pressure. Then may these treasures be stored in my heart and in heaven. Amen.
Blessings,
Pastor Thomas