Bellingham Unitarian Fellowship
Chalice Circle topic
for November, 2014
Descent
into Darkness
By Crystal Neva,
Bellingham Unitarian Fellowship
Note: See the Circle
Ministry Session Sequence for process guidelines.
Gathering, Welcoming
(2 minutes)
Chalice lighting (1
minute)
In sightless night, terrors draw near
Nameless fears of talon and tooth
Hopelessness yawns before us—an abyss
Alone and unknown in the gloom, longing for the dawn
O sacred flame blaze forth—wisdom brought to life
Guide us—
With the light of hope
The warmth of love
The beacon of purpose and meaning
Because we are all afraid of the dark
Let there be light
Check-in/Sharing (3-4
minutes@ - 30-40 minutes)
Discussion (60
minutes)
[See Circle Ministry Session Sequence as a reminder of the
structure of this segment.]
First response
Cross-conversation
Concluding statements
Topic: Darkness
(Read this poem slowly—consider reading it twice with a
pause in between)
October, by Mary
Oliver
1
There’s this shape, black as the entrance to a cave.
A longing wells up in its throat
like a blossom,
as it breaths slowly
What does the world
mean to you if you can’t trust it
to go on shining when you’re
not there? And there’s
a tree, long fallen; once
the bees flew to it, like a procession
of messengers, and filled it
with honey.
the bees flew to it, like a procession
of messengers, and filled it
with honey.
2
I said to the chickadee, singing his heart out in the green
pine tree:
little dazzler,
little song,
little mouthful
little song,
little mouthful
3
The shape climbs up out of the curled grass. It grunts into
view. There is no measure
for the confidence at the bottom of its eyes--
there is no telling
the suppleness of its shoulders as it turns and yawns.
for the confidence at the bottom of its eyes--
there is no telling
the suppleness of its shoulders as it turns and yawns.
Near
the fallen tree
something—a leaf snapped loose
from the branch and fluttering down—tries to pull me
into its trap of attention.
something—a leaf snapped loose
from the branch and fluttering down—tries to pull me
into its trap of attention.
4
It pulls me
into its trap of attention.
into its trap of attention.
And when I turn again, the bear is gone.
5
Look, hasn’t my body already felt
like the body of a flower?
like the body of a flower?
6
Look, I want to love this world
as though it’s the last chance I’m ever going to get
to be alive
and know it
as though it’s the last chance I’m ever going to get
to be alive
and know it
7
Sometimes in late summer I won’t touch anything, not
the flowers, not the blackberries
brimming in the thickets; I won’t drink
from the pond; I won’t name the birds or the trees;
I won’t whisper my own name.
the flowers, not the blackberries
brimming in the thickets; I won’t drink
from the pond; I won’t name the birds or the trees;
I won’t whisper my own name.
One
morning
the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident,
and didn’t see me—and I thought:
the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident,
and didn’t see me—and I thought:
so this is the world.
I’m not in it.
It is beautiful.
Late autumn and winter are times of darkness. Bears are
hibernating, birds move on for warmer weather. We endure the thickening
barometer as the air gets heavier with water and the clouds push down upon us.
The sun shines only sometimes—and we rejoice. But then it goes away again and
we resign ourselves to the dull gray days. It is a time of sadness for some of
us, a longing—a time when our energy and very life seems sucked out of us as
the world around us withers and dies. Some of us are like the bear—we hunker
down and hibernate. Some of us isolate. Perhaps we may see the darkness as the
world’s permission to stay in and use it as a time for reflection…. We may note
a sense of gratitude for the warmth of our homes and our loved ones, a time to
gather for holidays as we wait for the return of the light.
Questions for
Reflection:
(Invite people to answer the questions that speak to them—or
reflect on the poem)
·
How are you affected by the darkness?
·
Is this a time of isolation? Longing?
Reflection? Anticipation? Gratitude? Waiting?
·
Are you able to trust the world to go on shining
if you aren’t there?
Feedback (15 minutes)
Thank the group…. Ask
what they liked and what variations they would hope for.
Closing
We grow accustomed to the dark--
When Light is put away—
When Light is put away—
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye—
A moment—We uncertain step
For newness of the night—
Then—fit for our Vision to the Dark—
And meet the Road—erect—
And so of larger—Darknessess—
Those evenings of the Brain—
When not a Moon disclose a sign—
Or Star—come out—within—
The Bravest—grope a little—
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead—
But as they learn to see—
Either the Darkness alters—
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight—
And Life steps almost straight.
Emily Dickenson
