Inner Light
I picked C up at his home since it was too rainy for him to ride his motorcycle. I wanted to check out a Blue Christmas mass at St J’s Episcopal and he was curious too. Neither of us had been to this church or this kind of service before.
We found a modern space with high ceilings and low light, a few handfuls of congregants, and two friendly older women in priests’ vestments who gave us a warm welcome. We sang hymns with a pianist, and I discovered C had a strong, deep voice. He could sing on key, an ability that is elusive for me so I kept my volume down.
In the center of the space was a table with a basket of white candles and several bowls of sand. Four times we were invited to come up to the front.
The first time represented those that we’ve lost. I whispered G’s name as I lit my candle and placed it in the sand. The second time for situations or relationships we’ve lost. The third time for ourselves, and the last time for our faith. I went up each time, along with several people.
The gloomy light of the church had a warm glow from all the candles and it seemed like all of our sorrows were illuminating the space. I left feeling glad I had come.
It’s been raining hard for days and the image of all those candles casting light in the darkness is bright in my mind.
This was lovely to read, it sounds like a wonderful service. So sorry for your loss.
This was lovely to read, it sounds like it was a wonderful service.
So sorry for your loss.
I felt like I was with you. Touched by this.