March 22, 2005
Lights
An ingenious couple of Sunday School teachers wanted to help their fifth grade students toward a better understanding of Lent, so they suggested an exercise.
Let us go into our rooms at night. Turn off the music and the TV. Then turn off the lights and sit there in the dark. At first, we will see practically nothing. But slowly, as our eyes adjust, we will begin to see shapes and then, gradually, more complexly defined details.
As the objects emerge into our vision, they will seem to be appearing for the first time. Of course, they were present there all along when the lights were on, but now they’re unfamiliar and newly discovered.
Moments of thoughtful reflection, of meditation, of worship, however we might call them, can be like that. They can remove the distractions and enable us to see ourselves anew and differently, perhaps our imaginations will open our vision to the long perspective of eternity.
Holy Week is such a time, a time that can “turn out the lights” for us. It can be a time to reveal us to ourselves anew as spiritual beings whose lives and identities — our humanity — are mysteriously transformed to be informed into the stuff of the cosmos.