The Longest Night

The church that I attend has a service every year on December 21st, or the Winter Solstice.  It's called The Longest Night: A Holiday Service of Remembrance, Consolation and Reassurance.

Here is an excerpt from the church bulletin that can describe it much better than I can:

Welcome to the First Presbyterian Church and this service of THE LONGEST NIGHT.  As A Home in the Heart of the City we seek to be a community where the needs of people meet the power of God.  That is our hope for this night.  Tonight is the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, and we recognize that for many the Holidays can be long.  While there is much merry-making going on, we realize that losses in our lives can take much of the joy out of this Season.


Tonight we intend to honor the real darkness that exists in our lives and in the world.  At the same time we hope that glimpses of light might shine through just as the stars pierce a dark, cold winter night.  We open this space of worship and welcome God's presence with us here and always.  May the candlelight, the music, the prayers, the Word of God, the silence, the readings, the communion of saints and the community gathered here comfort and inspire you.  


At two different times of the service, during the Music for Healing as we open and during the Silence as a part of our response to God's Word, you are invited to go forward in the sanctuary and light votive candles to illumine your own prayers and our world.  As you leave tonight, if a significant loss in your life has brought you here, we invite you to take a candle from the table as you exit so that a light of hope and remembrance may continue to shine in your home throughout this Holiday Season.


I wanted to go to this service last year, but wasn't able to, so I made it a priority this year.  I really appreciated someone acknowledging that the holidays are not happy for many of us for lots of different reasons.  Too often we are told to put on a brave face and grin and bear it.  For once, it's nice to hear that it's ok to be sad.  I especially appreciated that it was the church saying this.

Not many people attended the service so it was pretty small and intimate.  Most went up and lit a candle up at the front, but I just stayed in my seat.  I'm more of a background kind of person.

Afterwards, one of the pastors apologized to me for one of the readings (she knows all about our IF history and actually reads this blog).  It was John 16:16-24 -

"...Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices.  You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.  A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world...".  

I told her that it was ok, and it really was.  While she was reading it, I definitely noticed it, but I didn't feel that twinge like I probably would have a year ago.  It kind of served as a reminder that I will take this with me the rest of my life and there will always be reminders.  I will get over the heartache and the pain, but I feel like I am forever a different person because of what I've gone through.  I won't even say I'm a better person.  Just different.


I've had my issues with the church and religion in the past and to some extent I still do, but I'm very thankful that I've found this particular one.  I feel like I can be myself there and I'm not shamed when I have doubts or questions.