Last week in our small parish church, a number of parishioners arranged a Festival of Light and invited the wider community to share some time in prayer. With the Blessed Sacrament exposed, a gradual carpet of light grew across the sanctuary floor, a focal point for prayer as each person who arrived lit and placed a small candle in front of the altar.

At a very low volume, the sound system gave a background of meditative chant, unobtrusive, just there. It was a simple yet beautifully meditative occasion that brought many through the doors of our church.

Advent hurries on apace and leads us to Nativity, the birth of the Jesus Child and the fulfilment of prophecy. It was a time of peace. This year is very different, with the pain and strife of terrorism and war giving rise to an unending ache across  our planet.

Francis even went so far recently as to call Christmas this year “a charade”.  Remember Tom Paxton’s song? “Peace, peace will come, let it begin with me”.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A9tIJEywB4g&list=PLuXymJAGlvNayQcQhMUxeI1ZqNwiQ5WV5

 Sundays of Four Candles

The song of the colder days is sung

in words of Waiting

from one dark day to the next, each

one closing a time

of expectation, till finally time is come.

December dawns, spreading a chill, raw

sky of washed out

greens and faded blues, sunrise breaking

the nothingness of night

early light beyond the immediate houses.

Final year-end days, the hurrying crowds,

the Sundays of Four Candles

and the Coming Birth, the telling of wars

and harsh anger caught in

the cradle of conflict, till all time slips away.

“time will say nothing

  but I told you so”  *

*W H Auden:       If I Could Tell You:      October 1940

 END

-----