A Candlemas Prayer and Reflection

February 2^nd is a day of many names, Candlemas, the Feast of the Presentation and a new one to me this year; the feast of Holy Encounter. I like that.

It’s also World Wetlands Day and of course Groundhog Day.

It’s the first two in the list I want to linger with here. A candle lit deepens both words and silence. The small gesture of its lighting carries the weight of ritual. It marks memory and celebrates birth, it warms love and eases loneliness. The tiny brightness that isn’t and then is  — think of it — somehow suggests the suddenness of hope where none could be seen.

So, I hold Candlemas gratefully. I imagine those those who gathered to welcome the strengthening light.  I see people bringing sacks of candles to be blessed by a priest for their use at home. In these days of light summoned with a switch the blessing of home candles in church has fallen away. Still in some churches candles are gathered on Candlemas to be blessed for use in liturgical celebration.

On Candlemas I will say words of blessing at home. One small candle will represent all the candles I will light this year, a congregation of lights variously holy and rambunctious in their appearing through the coming days.

I’ll pause to offer these words as I light my candle.

Bless to me Holy One
this small, swift coming into Light.

Bless to me the darkness
that was
before the flame.
And bless the silent hush that follows it.

Bless to me the kindled light
the warm waxen melting.
May my heart take note.

And bless me to the world.
Call out my own small, swiftness,
my own melting
into the unpeaceful machinations of these days,
into the gathering of what makes whole.

Bless me.

February 2nd also brings me into the company of Simeon and Anna. These two saints of stooped back and swollen knuckles come knocking on my door.

“Simeon and Anna, beautiful in the way of the late-day light. It seems these two are easy to come close to, especially as we age but also in younger years. Like Mary, we draw close to their wisdom. They give us hope through the life-rubbed glory of their clear-sightedness, their relinquishment, and their joy.”

They too are like candles, beautiful in their diminishing.

You can read a reflection on Simeon and Anna here

Now, whichever name you choose to call this day and whatever comes to you within it, may you feel yourself in a company of the small, storied candles each of us is, loved by the One who lights us.

Image Anne Nygard Upslash