16 August 2024 A Candle in the Window Peter Millar
Words to encourage us in these times.
If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrels’ heartbeat, and we should die of that
roar which lies on the other side of silence. George Eliot in Middlemarsh
*This short reflection which I found very helpful was contained in an email which a close friend sent to me recently:
I especially liked in your latest ‘Candle’ your personal comment about the strong sense of being ‘held’ through all life’s ups and downs: I haven’t experienced anything like what you have in terms of your many years with an incurable cancer, but I share this sense of ‘being held’; indeed it is at the core of my faith – increasingly ‘whittled down’ as I’ve grown older – to the point now that I no longer find it helpful to see or speak to God as a person, whom we ask in so many petitionary and intercessory prayers to ‘do’ things. I believe now that God ‘is’ rather than ‘does’ and it is up to us to ‘plug into’ the flow of this life-force and love-energy (essential goodness), so that our prayers are not requests for God to ‘do things’ but rather an expression of our commitment, intentions, and solidarity. This is ‘where I am’ just now! And, while I like the words ‘tender’ and ‘tenderness’ which you use, I feel there is a danger currently of their being overworked….but again this is a very personal view!
You will go out with joy and be led forth in peace,
the mountains and the hills before you will burst into song,
all the trees of the field will clap their hands.
Isaiah chapter 55
Every moment of every event in our life on earth
plants something in our soul.
Based on words of Thomas Merton
We have been loved by God from before the beginning. Julian of Norwich
*I know from your messages that many of you who receive the Candle reflection enjoy music. A friend recently sent me this link which I found helpful for my spiritual journey. I hope you do too. Peter
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxARXVpNFqc
Materially poor but spiritually rich:
This reflection from my book Waymarks: Signposts to discovering God’s presence in the World reminds us that there are many ways to worship God and that those who have so much less than most of us can teach us many things about the depths of faith. Peter
It was Harvest Festival. The sun was slowly sinking across the great plains of southern India as we came near the small village – ‘cow dust time’ – when everything across the land seems still and the great heat of the day has passed. As we entered the village in the gathering darkness, we were greeted by a real sense of celebration. The little mud church thatched with shingles or banana leaves, brightly lit up against the surrounding darkness, was like a bright star in a dark sky. Although the church was lit by a few electric bulbs, it was the rows of candles on all the windows which added to the magic. The flames of these candles were blowing gently in the evening breeze, reminding us of the symbol of light which is both at the heart of the Christian gospel and deep within the ancient spiritual traditions of Hinduism. Everywhere there were children, most of them singing Tamil songs with great enthusiasm. As we approached the church, several of the women welcomed us with flower garlands and a traditional dance. They danced with their whole being, and with deep devotion. And in the simple beauty of their movement, a thousand words were spoken.
The scene inside the church would be hard to describe. Every square inch was taken up with people: old men, young men; old women; young women; youths and children and tiny babies; and any space that was left over was occupied with hens, ducks, a jumping goat, vegetables, fruit, baskets of rice and many other things from the village fields. The whole place seemed to be praising the Creator, not least the large cockerel perched on a bag of paddy and gazing earnestly at a picture of Christ hanging behind the Communion table. It was never chaos but rather vibrant devotion.
As the service went on, the young children began to go to sleep one by one. Soon there were many little figures spread across the floor. Sometimes the mothers and grandmothers dozed lightly with them, but when we sang the familiar Tamil lyrics all were awake and the music could be heard in the surrounding villages. The whole church was alive with music and it drifted out across the moonlit fields, over the tall palm trees and down to the tank where the buffaloes rested.
After the service was over, we shared with a village family in their evening meal. Their small hut was full of warmth, love and welcome. Then we returned to the church where the elders were auctioning the hens, the ducks, the vegetables and the paddy for church funds. There was a great deal of laughter and much more noise. It was very late when the auction ended, but by now no-one was tired.
Soon we started on our homeward journey. But we were returning with more than we had come with, for we had purchased some of the ducks at the auction. We said our farewells and headed down the mud road. Above us the stars were shining over the empty fields. Within a few minutes we could no longer hear the singing and the laughter and the shouts of children and the night was still and very silent; a deep stillness. The Harvest Festival was over for another year. Yet the joy and fellowship of that evening would not be forgotten, for in that poor village we had experienced the riches of Christ. The riches which move through the generations and bring light.
