Winter Solstice
Preached 12/15/2019 at SouthWest UU in N. Royalton OH
By Rev. Meg Mathieson
Winter solstice, this Saturday, is the shortest day of the year, with the longest night of the year. It is the moment that our hemisphere journeys the very furthest from our life-giving star, the sun, before being pulled back by gravity. Imagine us, this tiny speck in an unimaginably vast and dark space, boomeranging around this enormous ball of fire. Every year, we wander away from it, and every year, we begin our journey back again. Beginning next week, the days will begin to be longer and we will be heading back to our star.
This scientific, objective event has long been linked to religion. It’s no wonder that ancient humans came up with all sorts of superstitions and beliefs about our sun - that mysterious source of light and life that appears to move and dance, whose presence can literally burn our skin and whose absence can threaten life. Of course, it would be revered and feared as a god.
If I am going to be truly honest, I don’t know for sure that our sun, this mysterious, gorgeous, source of light and energy isn’t a god. What is a god? A creator, a sustainer, a destroyer. A mysterious source of light and energy.
Winter solstice has been celebrated by humans all over the world for millennia. Hindus celebrate the return of the sun god with a celebration called Mankar Sankranti. Persian people celebrate the longest night of the year, calling it Shab-e Yalda. In East Asia, what we call winter solstice is celebrated as Dongzhi, which are huge festivals in Japan, Korea, and China. Punjabi Sihks and Hindus celebrate Lohri. The ancient Romans celebrated Saturnalia at the winter solstice, and many modern wiccans still do. The Jewish Talmud teaches that Adam, the first man, saw that the days were getting shorter and thought it was punishment for his sin. He was afraid that the world was returning to the chaos and emptiness that existed before creation. He sat and fasted for eight days. Once he saw that the days were getting longer again he realized that this was the natural cycle of the world, so made eight days of celebration. Thus it is no accident that Hannukuh, also called the festival of lights, is set during the darkest time of the year.
Of all of the human traditions around this important celestial event, we are all probably most familiar with the ancient Germanic and Nordic tradition of Yule or jul.
Yule was an ancient celebration that began with the winter solstice and brought us many of the traditions that have been coopted by Christmas such as the Yule log, the Christmas ham, and wassailing.
To this day, Neopagans, including Wiccans, and even Satanists celebrate Yule. This is a tradition that unites humanity: asking the sun to come back. Celebrating the birth of a new sun god or goddess who will sustain life through the coming year. It is the moment when we stop going into the darkness and turn toward the light.
This celebration takes patience and it takes a lot of faith. Whether that is faith in a deity or in your local weather forecast , we hold onto the sure faith that eventually warmth and sunlight will return.
A book with the wonderful title “Godless Paganism” (surely perfectly calculated to provoke the maximum amount of Christian hand-wringing) praises nature as the very god that theists are looking for, saying that:
Atheism itself stands in awe of our cosmos, as we cannot possibly conceive of “the sheer awesomeness of our sun. A ball of plasma a million times bigger than the entire Earth, the sun is not a ball of fire - it’s much too hot for even fire to exist.”
It goes on, (p. 79)
I invite you to reflect on the cyclical nature of this seemingly timeless dance as I read a poem by Rebecca Parker:
Perhaps for a moment the typewriters will stop clicking,
the wheels stop rolling the computers desist from computing,
and a hush will fall over the city.
For an instant, in the stillness, the chiming of the celestial spheres will be heard as earth hangs poised in the crystalline darkness, and then gracefully tilts.
Let there be a season when holiness is heard, and the splendor of living is revealed.
Stunned to stillness by beauty we remember who we are and why we are here.
There are inexplicable mysteries. We are not alone.
In the universe there moves a Wild One whose gestures alter earth’s axis toward love.
In the immense darkness, everything spins with joy. The cosmos enfolds us. We are caught in a web of stars, cradled in a swaying embrace,
rocked by the holy night, babes of the universe.
Let this be the time we wake to life, like spring wakes, in the moment of winter solstice.
I began this service by casting a circle, which is another ancient ritual, used in many different cultures. Pagans and Wiccans cast a circle to begin their rituals. In eastern religions, a mandala or a yantra is used. Casting a circle often involves invoking the four cardinal directions as well as the four “elements” of earth, water, fire, and air.
In addition to our circle, I’d like to invite you to participate with me in another ancient solstice tradition: a litany. This is a slow, repetitive exercise, meant to bring us into a communal meditative state. Imagine, if you will, that we have the ability to help the light and warmth of springtime return. We are joining with our pantheist ancestors, entreating the sun goddess to return. After each line, please repeat the phrase "The light is reborn.”
In the greatest darkness
Out of winter's cold
From our deepest fears
When we most despair
When all seems lost
When the earth lies waste
When animals hide
When the leaves are gone
When the river is frozen
When the ground is hard
Shadows are fleeing
Light is returning
Warmth will come again
Summer will be here once more
Plants will grow again
Animals will be seen once more
Green will come again
Life will continue
We are in the midst of a time of year that was considered holy and auspicious by not only our ancestors but by the ancestors of all humanity. We celebrate these incredible celestial events that we barely begin to understand. It is a time of gods and goddesses. It is a time of awe and wonder. It is a time where we share stories of miracles.
Here, in our church, you are just as much a holiday miracle as the turning of the earth. We see the love you give to others, the space you create to hold one another's joys and sorrows, and the generosity and spirit you entrust to this community.
You are the holiday miracle. This community is one of miracle-makers.
Preached 12/15/2019 at SouthWest UU in N. Royalton OH
By Rev. Meg Mathieson
Winter solstice, this Saturday, is the shortest day of the year, with the longest night of the year. It is the moment that our hemisphere journeys the very furthest from our life-giving star, the sun, before being pulled back by gravity. Imagine us, this tiny speck in an unimaginably vast and dark space, boomeranging around this enormous ball of fire. Every year, we wander away from it, and every year, we begin our journey back again. Beginning next week, the days will begin to be longer and we will be heading back to our star.
This scientific, objective event has long been linked to religion. It’s no wonder that ancient humans came up with all sorts of superstitions and beliefs about our sun - that mysterious source of light and life that appears to move and dance, whose presence can literally burn our skin and whose absence can threaten life. Of course, it would be revered and feared as a god.
If I am going to be truly honest, I don’t know for sure that our sun, this mysterious, gorgeous, source of light and energy isn’t a god. What is a god? A creator, a sustainer, a destroyer. A mysterious source of light and energy.
Winter solstice has been celebrated by humans all over the world for millennia. Hindus celebrate the return of the sun god with a celebration called Mankar Sankranti. Persian people celebrate the longest night of the year, calling it Shab-e Yalda. In East Asia, what we call winter solstice is celebrated as Dongzhi, which are huge festivals in Japan, Korea, and China. Punjabi Sihks and Hindus celebrate Lohri. The ancient Romans celebrated Saturnalia at the winter solstice, and many modern wiccans still do. The Jewish Talmud teaches that Adam, the first man, saw that the days were getting shorter and thought it was punishment for his sin. He was afraid that the world was returning to the chaos and emptiness that existed before creation. He sat and fasted for eight days. Once he saw that the days were getting longer again he realized that this was the natural cycle of the world, so made eight days of celebration. Thus it is no accident that Hannukuh, also called the festival of lights, is set during the darkest time of the year.
Of all of the human traditions around this important celestial event, we are all probably most familiar with the ancient Germanic and Nordic tradition of Yule or jul.
Yule was an ancient celebration that began with the winter solstice and brought us many of the traditions that have been coopted by Christmas such as the Yule log, the Christmas ham, and wassailing.
To this day, Neopagans, including Wiccans, and even Satanists celebrate Yule. This is a tradition that unites humanity: asking the sun to come back. Celebrating the birth of a new sun god or goddess who will sustain life through the coming year. It is the moment when we stop going into the darkness and turn toward the light.
This celebration takes patience and it takes a lot of faith. Whether that is faith in a deity or in your local weather forecast , we hold onto the sure faith that eventually warmth and sunlight will return.
A book with the wonderful title “Godless Paganism” (surely perfectly calculated to provoke the maximum amount of Christian hand-wringing) praises nature as the very god that theists are looking for, saying that:
Atheism itself stands in awe of our cosmos, as we cannot possibly conceive of “the sheer awesomeness of our sun. A ball of plasma a million times bigger than the entire Earth, the sun is not a ball of fire - it’s much too hot for even fire to exist.”
It goes on, (p. 79)
I invite you to reflect on the cyclical nature of this seemingly timeless dance as I read a poem by Rebecca Parker:
Perhaps for a moment the typewriters will stop clicking,
the wheels stop rolling the computers desist from computing,
and a hush will fall over the city.
For an instant, in the stillness, the chiming of the celestial spheres will be heard as earth hangs poised in the crystalline darkness, and then gracefully tilts.
Let there be a season when holiness is heard, and the splendor of living is revealed.
Stunned to stillness by beauty we remember who we are and why we are here.
There are inexplicable mysteries. We are not alone.
In the universe there moves a Wild One whose gestures alter earth’s axis toward love.
In the immense darkness, everything spins with joy. The cosmos enfolds us. We are caught in a web of stars, cradled in a swaying embrace,
rocked by the holy night, babes of the universe.
Let this be the time we wake to life, like spring wakes, in the moment of winter solstice.
I began this service by casting a circle, which is another ancient ritual, used in many different cultures. Pagans and Wiccans cast a circle to begin their rituals. In eastern religions, a mandala or a yantra is used. Casting a circle often involves invoking the four cardinal directions as well as the four “elements” of earth, water, fire, and air.
In addition to our circle, I’d like to invite you to participate with me in another ancient solstice tradition: a litany. This is a slow, repetitive exercise, meant to bring us into a communal meditative state. Imagine, if you will, that we have the ability to help the light and warmth of springtime return. We are joining with our pantheist ancestors, entreating the sun goddess to return. After each line, please repeat the phrase "The light is reborn.”
In the greatest darkness
Out of winter's cold
From our deepest fears
When we most despair
When all seems lost
When the earth lies waste
When animals hide
When the leaves are gone
When the river is frozen
When the ground is hard
Shadows are fleeing
Light is returning
Warmth will come again
Summer will be here once more
Plants will grow again
Animals will be seen once more
Green will come again
Life will continue
We are in the midst of a time of year that was considered holy and auspicious by not only our ancestors but by the ancestors of all humanity. We celebrate these incredible celestial events that we barely begin to understand. It is a time of gods and goddesses. It is a time of awe and wonder. It is a time where we share stories of miracles.
Here, in our church, you are just as much a holiday miracle as the turning of the earth. We see the love you give to others, the space you create to hold one another's joys and sorrows, and the generosity and spirit you entrust to this community.
You are the holiday miracle. This community is one of miracle-makers.