8.7.8.7.7.7.
WHEN the day of toil is ended,
And night cometh cool and still,
Clad in starry spangled raiment,
Trailing softly o'er the hill,
Hand and heart and aching brain
In her peace forget their pain.
Grateful presence of the night-time
Soft restraint of sleep so sweet,
Holding still our fervent fingers,
Gently chaining restless feet;—
They who labour in the light
Hail the holy, holy night.
May we rise with hearts more hopeful
For to-morrow and its strife,
With a stronger aspiration
And resolve for nobler life,
Consecrated all anew,
To the good, the pure, the true.
Robert Henry Underwood Bloor (160 in Hymns of Modern Thought)
Robert Henry Underwood Bloor, minister of Trowbridge Unitarians from 1895 to 1899, was a former Anglican who had adopted Unitarian views. After ministering at Trowbridge, he went on to be minister for Brighton Unitarian Church and Essex Church in Kensington. He was the author of Christianity & the Religious Drama, which he gave as the Essex hall lecture for 1928, and which was published by Beacon Press in 1930. He contributed five hymns (numbers 69, 104, 114, 132, and 160) to the hymn-book of the Leicester Secular Society, Hymns of Modern Thought. Several other Unitarian authors (Sarah Flower Adams, Stopford Brooke, Frederick Lucian Hosmer, Moncure Conway, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Samuel Longfellow) appear on the list of contributors; they were mainly of the Transcendentalist and humanist persuasion.
Showing posts with label darkness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label darkness. Show all posts
Monday, 12 March 2012
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
Fire in the darkness
Fire illuminated the darkness,
swinging in arcs and swirls
A fire-juggler in the street
Fire in the darkness
primordial comfort
primordial magic
I stopped to admire the dancing flames,
the skill of the juggler
maintaining three flaming torches in the air at once.
swinging in arcs and swirls
A fire-juggler in the street
Fire in the darkness
primordial comfort
primordial magic
I stopped to admire the dancing flames,
the skill of the juggler
maintaining three flaming torches in the air at once.
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
Embracing the shadow
The human capacity for compassion and wisdom is in stark contrast to our capacity for cruelty and destruction. It is difficult to maintain an optimistic view of human nature in the face of the Holocaust, Cambodia, Rwanda, Abu Ghreib, torture, murder and rape. The only explanation that I find helpful for the human capacity for evil is the Jungian idea that we project our shadow selves onto others, and seek to destroy the shadow side by destroying the other. If we accepted our shadow side and sought to integrate it into consciousness, we would not persecute others, regard them as less human, and seek to destroy them.
But where did the shadow come from? Initially it may have emerged as a defence mechanism, or a by-product of the emergence of consciousness. This is suggested by the myth of the Garden of Eden, when the serpent reveals the distinction between good and evil to Adam and Eve, and then Yahweh says that the woman shall crush the serpent beneath her heel. If the knowledge of good and evil is equated with consciousness, and what is allowed into the light of consciousness is regarded as good, then the serpent (which represents the shadow and the unconscious) must be crushed in order to retain a sense of the self as good.
We can break out of this vicious circle by embracing the shadow, and taming the beast rather than seeking to destroy it.
But where did the shadow come from? Initially it may have emerged as a defence mechanism, or a by-product of the emergence of consciousness. This is suggested by the myth of the Garden of Eden, when the serpent reveals the distinction between good and evil to Adam and Eve, and then Yahweh says that the woman shall crush the serpent beneath her heel. If the knowledge of good and evil is equated with consciousness, and what is allowed into the light of consciousness is regarded as good, then the serpent (which represents the shadow and the unconscious) must be crushed in order to retain a sense of the self as good.
We can break out of this vicious circle by embracing the shadow, and taming the beast rather than seeking to destroy it.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
Embracing darkness
There's only one thing that annoys me about Unitarian and Unitarian Universalist theology. In fact, it really really bugs me. It is the use of light as a symbol for good, and darkness as a symbol for evil. Clearly Unitarians and UUs have inherited this from the Christian tradition, and failed to examine what's wrong with it.
In my hymn Freedom, Love, Reason, I wrote:
In an address about Samhain and All Hallows, I wrote:
In my hymn Freedom, Love, Reason, I wrote:
When reason sings in harmonyThe third line means, "when light shall embrace the darkness" but I had to invert it to fit the metre. It certainly does not mean that light will light the darkness. It means that the conscious mind will embrace and accept the Shadow, bringing unconscious and repressed aspects of the self to the surface and working with them. We descend into the darkness to find the lost treasure – creativity, and memory, and dreams.
With intuition's tune
And light the darkness shall embrace
In deep soul alchemy
Then shall the Earth with freedom ring
In an address about Samhain and All Hallows, I wrote:
Pagans do not see darkness and death as evil, but as part of the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. If there was no death, there would be no growth, no change, and no birth. If there was no darkness, the seeds could not gestate in the warm darkness of the earth; if there was no night, there would be no sleep, and no stars and moonlight. If there was no winter cold, there would be none of the beauty of autumn, the seeds would not germinate, and germs would not be killed by the frost. Darkness is the Yin spoken of by the Taoists – one half of the divine dance of the cosmos.In another address on Darkness and Epiphany, I wrote:
Fear of the dark is civilisation's fear of the forest and the wilderness. The denigration of the dark is one of the foundation stones of Western civilisation and even the Enlightenment – so it is difficult to unravel it, to find out where it came from.There are many positive things about darkness, and they are celebrated in many different spiritual traditions. Darkness is the time when contemplation and meditation are most effective; it is a time of intuition, inspiration and communing with the inner reality. The darkness of God is a metaphor frequently used by mystics to describe the unknowable and ineffable aspects of the Divine. So please, stop denigrating darkness!
It is the connection of darkness with the feminine, nature, and wilderness that gives us the key to explain why it is so denigrated for most of Christian history. In patriarchal culture, the assertive female is regarded as dark, dangerous and malevolent, and characterised as a witch.
When we say that darkness is evil, we create a split in ourselves, for we consist of both light and dark aspects. Carl Gustav Jung (the psychoanalyst) said that the psyche consists of Anima, Animus, and Shadow – the Shadow being the unconscious aspect, the parts of ourselves that we fear and repress. We need to bring these into the light in order to transform them into healthy aspects of ourselves – not slaying the monsters, but harnessing their power to work for good.
When we say that darkness is evil, we project that idea onto others – the terrorist, the witch, the deviant, the stranger. Racism and sexism and homophobia have their roots in this fear of the other, the fear of our own unconscious impulses that we project onto others.
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Advent as coming out
Kittredge Cherry has published a lovely Advent poem by Chris Glaser over at the Jesus in Love blog.
This reminds me of another Advent reflection by a gay Anglican priest, written in 1997, and still relevant today.
Out of dark soil sprouts new life,
from darkness springs embodied hope.
Both stretch for the illumination
of the cosmic landscape.
This reminds me of another Advent reflection by a gay Anglican priest, written in 1997, and still relevant today.
So I was in love with the dark; not a dark which was cold or menacing, not a dark in which nasty things lurked but rather a dark where I could begin to feel. The dark was nurturing, it was where, in church, I was connected to everyone else; living, dead, present or not, mentally disturbed, outcast, old, young, poor, rich, intelligent, of the establishment, or criminal - in fact, everyone gathered around that table. All Eucharists are like that for me but Advent held special mystery.
At the end of Advent the church plunges itself into a tiny stable and all the church throughout the world stands crowded into a small and dangerously revolutionary room in Bethlehem.
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
Darkness and Epiphany
Fear of the dark is civilisation's fear of the forest and the wilderness. The denigration of the dark is one of the foundation stones of Western civilisation and even the Enlightenment – so it is difficult to unravel it, to find out where it came from.
It is the connection of darkness with the feminine, nature, and wilderness that gives us the key to explain why it is so denigrated for most of Christian history. In patriarchal culture, the assertive female is regarded as dark, dangerous and malevolent, and characterised as a witch. The passive female is elevated as the model for how women should be: quiet, virginal, and modest. And yet, in the Torah, there are many strong women: the Shulamite in the Song of Songs, Esther, Naomi and Ruth, and many more. But Judaism is kinder to women. Perhaps it was the Romans who bequeathed their patriarchal atttitudes to Christianity. In order for patriarchy to function, female sexuality must be suppressed and controlled, and men must be taught to fear it and abuse it; and the wilderness must be conquered and tamed.
In Taoism, the darkness is seen as yin: passive, dark, feminine, negative, downward-seeking, consuming and corresponds to the night.
Yáng is active, light, masculine, positive, upward-seeking, producing and corresponds to the daytime.
Yin and yang together produce constant movement in the universe.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (a famous Unitarian) wrote:
The point of all this is that darkness is a part of the ebb and flow of life on the planet; it is necessary for life, for rest, for the germination of seeds, and for the renewal of the spirit.
In De Profundis, Oscar Wilde speaks of the nurturing and non-judgmental qualities of Nature and darkness:
When we say that darkness is evil, we create a split in ourselves, for we consist of both light and dark aspects. Carl Gustav Jung (the psychoanalyst) said that the psyche consists of Anima, Animus, and Shadow – the Shadow being the unconscious aspect, the parts of ourselves that we fear and repress. We need to bring these into the light in order to transform them into healthy aspects of ourselves – not slaying the monsters, but harnessing their power to work for good.
When we say that darkness is evil, we project that idea onto others – the terrorist, the witch, the deviant, the stranger. Racism and sexism and homophobia have their roots in this fear of the other, the fear of our own unconscious impulses that we project onto others.
In English, Scottish and Greek folk tradition, the dark stranger was welcomed into the house at New Year in the ceremony of first-footing, when he brings a piece of coal for luck. Similarly Befana, the witch of Epiphany in Italy, brings a piece of coal to naughty children – but nowadays it is a piece of candy. Perhaps this could serve to remind us of the blessed silence and sweetness of the darkness.
Jung derived many of his ideas from alchemy, the mystical process of transformation of the soul, which was itself derived ultimately from Taoist thought. Darkness was the first stage of alchemical transformation, and was represented by the Raven. We descend into the darkness to find the lost treasure – creativity, and memory, and dreams.
Epiphany is traditionally the time at which Jesus's baptism is celebrated, and in Eastern Orthodoxy it is therefore the time of the Blessing of the Waters, one of the signs that Orthodoxy believes that God is in all, and all are in God. The feast generally represents the Divine light in the world, and is held to be the time when the three Magi arrived from the East, bearing gifts of gold (for his kingship), frankincense (for his priestliness), and myrrh (for his role as the Divine physician). But the holy birth, and the visit of the Magi, take place at night, in a stable, or possibly a cave, perhaps to dramatically highlight the guiding star and the holy babe, and the quality of mystery that hangs over the “silent night, holy night”.
Only in traditions where the Divine is not seen as present in Nature is darkness feared – for if the Divine is in everything, it must also be in the darkness, and it must also contain darkness. In Paganism, the dark mother is seen as
The Song of Songs says: “By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.”
According to the Poetry Chaikhana website:
It is the connection of darkness with the feminine, nature, and wilderness that gives us the key to explain why it is so denigrated for most of Christian history. In patriarchal culture, the assertive female is regarded as dark, dangerous and malevolent, and characterised as a witch. The passive female is elevated as the model for how women should be: quiet, virginal, and modest. And yet, in the Torah, there are many strong women: the Shulamite in the Song of Songs, Esther, Naomi and Ruth, and many more. But Judaism is kinder to women. Perhaps it was the Romans who bequeathed their patriarchal atttitudes to Christianity. In order for patriarchy to function, female sexuality must be suppressed and controlled, and men must be taught to fear it and abuse it; and the wilderness must be conquered and tamed.
In Taoism, the darkness is seen as yin: passive, dark, feminine, negative, downward-seeking, consuming and corresponds to the night.
Yáng is active, light, masculine, positive, upward-seeking, producing and corresponds to the daytime.
Yin and yang together produce constant movement in the universe.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (a famous Unitarian) wrote:
POLARITY, or action and reaction, we meet in every part of nature; in darkness and light; in heat and cold; in the ebb and flow of waters; in male and female; in the inspiration and expiration of plants and animals; ... An inevitable dualism bisects nature, so that each thing is a half, and suggests another thing to make it whole.And there was me thinking that polarity was a Pagan concept! Polarity is expressed in the cycle of the seasons, the interplay of dark and light in the solstices and equinoxes, and we find this cyclicity repeated everywhere; indeed the Mayan calendar was an endless series of interlocking cycles, both great and small.
The point of all this is that darkness is a part of the ebb and flow of life on the planet; it is necessary for life, for rest, for the germination of seeds, and for the renewal of the spirit.
In De Profundis, Oscar Wilde speaks of the nurturing and non-judgmental qualities of Nature and darkness:
“Society, as we have constituted it, will have no place for me, has none to offer; but Nature, whose sweet rains fall on just and unjust alike, will have clefts in the rock where I may hide, and secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed. She will hang the night with stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleanse me in great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole.”Darkness is not evil. Darkness is glamourous and seductive -- if one associates darkness with evil, it will attract people to evil. Evil should be represented by beige, grey or fog, to represent the idea that ordinary, mundane, boring people can commit atrocities, it is not the special prerogative of the psychopath.
When we say that darkness is evil, we create a split in ourselves, for we consist of both light and dark aspects. Carl Gustav Jung (the psychoanalyst) said that the psyche consists of Anima, Animus, and Shadow – the Shadow being the unconscious aspect, the parts of ourselves that we fear and repress. We need to bring these into the light in order to transform them into healthy aspects of ourselves – not slaying the monsters, but harnessing their power to work for good.
When we say that darkness is evil, we project that idea onto others – the terrorist, the witch, the deviant, the stranger. Racism and sexism and homophobia have their roots in this fear of the other, the fear of our own unconscious impulses that we project onto others.
In English, Scottish and Greek folk tradition, the dark stranger was welcomed into the house at New Year in the ceremony of first-footing, when he brings a piece of coal for luck. Similarly Befana, the witch of Epiphany in Italy, brings a piece of coal to naughty children – but nowadays it is a piece of candy. Perhaps this could serve to remind us of the blessed silence and sweetness of the darkness.
Jung derived many of his ideas from alchemy, the mystical process of transformation of the soul, which was itself derived ultimately from Taoist thought. Darkness was the first stage of alchemical transformation, and was represented by the Raven. We descend into the darkness to find the lost treasure – creativity, and memory, and dreams.
Epiphany is traditionally the time at which Jesus's baptism is celebrated, and in Eastern Orthodoxy it is therefore the time of the Blessing of the Waters, one of the signs that Orthodoxy believes that God is in all, and all are in God. The feast generally represents the Divine light in the world, and is held to be the time when the three Magi arrived from the East, bearing gifts of gold (for his kingship), frankincense (for his priestliness), and myrrh (for his role as the Divine physician). But the holy birth, and the visit of the Magi, take place at night, in a stable, or possibly a cave, perhaps to dramatically highlight the guiding star and the holy babe, and the quality of mystery that hangs over the “silent night, holy night”.
Only in traditions where the Divine is not seen as present in Nature is darkness feared – for if the Divine is in everything, it must also be in the darkness, and it must also contain darkness. In Paganism, the dark mother is seen as
the bringer of peace. When the unthinkable happens, she is there with open arms, comforting and soothing the wounds. When life has gone on too long, and friends are all gone, she is there to take us home. She is not unfeeling.In Christianity, the darkness of God is seen as that which is unknowable, the depths which cannot be plumbed. As the book of Genesis so poetically puts it: “The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters.”
But she is not a coddling mother, either. She expects us to be strong. She expects us to take ownership for our lives... she expects us to be able to stand; alone if necessary. And when the test comes, she expects us to be able to look in Her eyes.
The Song of Songs says: “By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.”
According to the Poetry Chaikhana website:
Night is the time when lovers meet, when the soul meets its Divine Beloved.So it seems that, if we are to embrace the Divine Beloved, we must also embrace the night, and its gifts of sacred sexuality, silence, prayer, coolness and fragrance. And in embracing the Divine Beloved, we also embrace each other, for each of us has a spark of the Divine within us.
Darkness, like God, envelops everything in its embrace. It is in the darkness of night that all things become one, losing their individuality as they disappear into that mystery. ...
In Sufi poetry, night-time has an added dimension in that many Sufis engage in a special midnight prayer.... Because of this, the night is eagerly anticipated as the holiest of times for many devout Sufis.
Wednesday, 5 September 2007
darkness
The innocent darkness
receives and transforms
what is freely given to her.
The dark child dances
among the stars.
The radiance of night
is hidden in the deepest space.
The singing of the aether
can only be heard
if you are listening.
The prima materia,
disregarded by the philosophers,
is the darkness, the pregnant silence.
The silence receives all, gives all,
and plays with manifestation.
The alchemy of nature
in the athanor of the stars.
The opening of seeds
in the darkness of the earth.
The dance of life and death
as it moves, it moves, it moves.
~ by Yvonne Aburrow
receives and transforms
what is freely given to her.
The dark child dances
among the stars.
The radiance of night
is hidden in the deepest space.
The singing of the aether
can only be heard
if you are listening.
The prima materia,
disregarded by the philosophers,
is the darkness, the pregnant silence.
The silence receives all, gives all,
and plays with manifestation.
The alchemy of nature
in the athanor of the stars.
The opening of seeds
in the darkness of the earth.
The dance of life and death
as it moves, it moves, it moves.
~ by Yvonne Aburrow
Tao is obscured when men understand only one of a pair of opposites, or concentrate only on a partial aspect of being. Then clear expression also becomes muddled by mere wordplay, affirming this one aspect and denying the rest.
~ The Pivot - Chuang-tzu
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