How often do we think of night or of darkness as sacred, holy, rich with the presence and revelation of God?
We are so often taught to fear the night, and to hide from it: close the windows, close the curtains, lock the doors; be careful walking to your car at night; be careful about answering the doorbell after dark. Sadly, some of these precautions are realistic—but what have we lost?
Light is good for seeing clearly, and for seeing at a distance—hence, for anticipating and planning, and (symbolically) for understanding and controlling.
But darkness is good for intimacy, for drawing close to one another. And darkness is good for making friends with all our other senses: for listening (what are the night sounds of of this season of the year?); for smelling (how much can you notice just by smell? blossoms? woods smoke?); for tasting (eat or sip something in the dark, and really notice what you’re tasting); for touch (feel the night air on your skin).
And darkness is good for making friends with mystery—for letting go of the illusion that I can or must understand and control everything in my life.
This week, open yourself prayerfully to the experience of darkness. Let God speak to
you in and through the night.