“Light reveals us to ourselves, which is not always great if you find yourself in a big disgusting mess, possibly of your own creation.”
~ Anne Lamott, Help,Thanks, Wow

It had been a long time since I had stood in line for a new book to be out in stores. Not since I waited in long lines with our Seattle Son in his much younger self, as we waited for whichever new Harry Potter tome to be released at midnight, had I been one of the first to have an anticipated copy of a book thrust into my hands. But on Tuesday morning at nine sharp, I waltzed into a local book store and picked up my reserved copy of Anne Lamott’s new book. I have been a fan of hers for years and had awaited this new volume of her unique look of the world and living a life of faith.

What I love about her writing is its humor, its raw and often brash way of being a person who, despite all odds, is in the church. I always hope I could at least learn something from her if not, every now and then, channel her. In those times when we church people take ourselves too seriously, when we act as if this meeting or that decision might actually change the world, I long to say something oddly funny that would bring us back to our senses the way Lamott’s writing does for me.

As I sat down to savor some her writing yesterday I was fresh off an experience of he
Ping to put together our Advent devotional for this year. Once again the people of our community have astounded me with their willingness to offer words of beauty, vulnerably, and hope on this year’s theme of Holy Darkness, Holy Light. As people steeped in a culture that wants so desperately to turn from any experience of darkness even to the point of demonizing it, these fellow faith-travelers have dared to see the sacred nature of these shadow siblings. As always, I was bathed in the grace of being
pilgrim with this amazing community.

Darkness. Light. As we moved into Daylight Saving time recently, the darkness has seemed to envelop us. Many of us head out into the world in a pseudo darkness and return in much the same way. I have been keenly aware of this over the last week. How to befriend the darkness? How to befriend the light?

If stopped on the street and asked which they prefer, darkness or light, I believe most people would choose light. And yet when looked at it as Lamott points out as ‘light revealing us to ourselves’, maybe not so much. Sometimes the dark allows us to hide which at times can be a very good thing. In the dark, the ugly little thoughts I have about someone or the pointy judgements I jab in the air around them can stay hidden. In the dark the fears I harbor, real or imagined, can sometimes feel safe and less frightening, even controlled. Shine the spotlight on either and the picture is not so pretty.

This reality and metaphor of darkness and light has compelled our attention since humans first walked upright. The gift of the approaching Advent season is that we are once again invited to look at this spectrum squarely and find ourselves in both. This is one lesson I learned as I read the deep, rich reflections of those in my faith community who chose to allow the light of their writing to reveal something true about them. It is brave work. And important. And blessed.