“Light cannot see inside things.
That is what the dark is for:
Minding the interior,
Nurturing the draw of growth
Through places where death
In its own way turns to life.”
~John O’Donohue

These words begin a poem by John O’Donohue, beloved Irish poet and gentle theologian. The poem is simply called ‘Light’. Perhaps I am very aware right now of images of light and dark as I prepare worship experiences for Holy Week and Easter. These mind pictures come in a different form during the season of Lent than they do in Advent, the season that precedes Christmas. In December, darkness and light are clothed in the realization that the winter darkness is surrounding. Though the Winter Solstice promises the return of the light and the Christmas story speaks of the Light of the World, the light and dark we speak of in Lent is different. The real meaning of the word Lent is ‘to lengthen’ and that has now become a daily experience. In truth the light is lengthening each and every day. As Goethe said on his death bed,we also declare: “More light!”

I am aware of this lengthening of light not so much because of the actual sunlight but because of its effects. This morning I sat having my breakfast and looked out our kitchen window. Within one day, the tulips and daylilies have been drawn out of the darkened earth several more inches than yesterday. I stared in wonder. It made me long to have the entire day to simply sit and watch. Might I actually be able to watch the slow, Zen-like movement toward the light?

Next week we will once again tell the stories of the final days of Jesus’ life. These tellings contain the joy of human friendships and the depth of compassionate service to others. They are full of prayer and healing and embracing the immense gifts that remind us of what it means to walk life’s path. The stories also show the darker side of humanity. A lust for power, a fear beyond reason, the need to extinguish what is misunderstood and threatening. All this leads to a tragedy that could have overcome those who had shared Jesus life and ministry, those who would, in the final telling, agree to continue to walk in his Way.

But this story continued to ‘lengthen’ and continues to lengthen still as those of us who try to walk in his Way give new birth and meaning his actions, his words. In the darkness of a tomb something continued to be drawn toward light. Like the plants now being drawn to the ever-warming sun, a nurturing toward growth was born. Some two thousand years later we continue to proclaim the story that has shaped a people, given them hope for a future, helped healing to continue, offered a way of life that longs for the re-creation of the world.

O’Donohue ends this poem with these words:

“And when we come to search for God,
Let us first be robed in night,
Put on the mind of morning
To feel the rush of light
Spread slowly inside
The color and stillness
Of a found world.”

The nurturing toward growth for those who walk upon the earth and those who make their home in it must contain both darkness and light. In these ever lengthening days, may we offer our gratitude for the darkness which holds Mystery and the Light that continues to coax the world to be reborn.

Over and over and over again. Day after day. Year after year. Life after life.