The Language of the Candle
Featured in the Dayton Daily News
The holiday season is a time that opens the floodgates of life. I remember the year I became engaged on Christmas Eve, and the season of my young love felt as if every blinking light was shining in reflection of my joy. Since then, there have been many Christmases, the first after devastating loss or those life events that change the trajectory of happier expectations. During these times, every Christmas Carole heard is filtered through a heart heaviness carried deep beneath the acts of holiday routine yielding sadness and isolation. I was talking with a co-worker who happens to be Jewish. In causally talking about the upcoming Holiday season, he reminded me that Hanukkah and Christmas coincide this year. As Christians begin acknowledging the holiness of Christmas on Christmas Eve, our Jewish neighbors begin their celebration of Hanukkah at sundown on December 24. I asked him how Hanukkah was personally significant. Without pause, he said the meaning was twofold. The first, a miracle happened, and second, he continued, “might does not make right.” He went on to describe the ritual of lighting a candle at sundown. This celebration of light marks the Jewish journey to reclaim their Holy Land, despite some pretty hefty odds.I listened; thinking this simplistic meaning of Hanukkah was not so different than the cornerstone of Christmas and the belief that the miracle of a baby’s birth would take on the might of the world. This time, too, is marked by candles, lit in anticipation of Christ’s rebirth into the lives of Christians. I was reminded of the power of the candle, and the potential for the simple flame to illuminate a path towards joy. Joy is far different than happiness. As we all know, happiness is fleeting. The childlike delight of sharing in unblemished moments of life is rare. Joy on the other hand is what happens after a deep breath, even in the midst of sorrow, disappointment, or strife. It is the choice to be still and be placed in the greater world of humanity, realizing, as my mom would say, “no matter how long the night, the day is sure to come.” What better way to invite joy than to light a candle.
I know this is often a difficult time for people. The façade of lights and Hallmark movies leave many feeling left out of the happy stories, intensifying the pain they may feel due to loss, disappointment or loneliness. We have all felt the dark night envelop our souls. But the universal language of the candle is illuminating, creating a pathway towards hope.
We need to follow in the example of our Jewish friends. Trusting that the dawn will come, creating light when the sun no longer clarifies our way; realizing that the magic of the simplest glow has the power to alter the heart and provide a flicker of trust in the dawn. The act of choosing joy, despite the surrounding crumble can begin as simply as lighting a candle. And isn’t abundant life, after all, the art of connecting one radiant moment to another. My colleague and I carried the optimism of our conversation to a hope for the world. This year, as so many pause to rest in the fundamental hope of their faith, perhaps the culmination of candles lit this December 24 will help to illuminate the broken spaces not only in our own lives, but maybe, just maybe, that collective light will spread to the world beyond.