“Therefore, justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us; we wait for light, and lo! There is darkness, and for brightness, but we walk in gloom.”
(Isaiah 59:9)
A Travel Story(Part One): Descending into Darkness
A few years ago, my family took a trip to Carlsbad Caverns. This subterranean National Park is located in the southeastern portion of New Mexico. It is in an out-of-the-way place but well worth a detour. Although you can tour caves in many places throughout the country, none are quite as big or spectacular.
There are two ways of descending the 750 feet into the Big Room of the caverns; you can walk down the path leading from the natural entrance, or you can take a historic elevator ride. We decided to take the elevator down and exit through the path that ascends to the natural entrance. For tours, we chose both the self-guided walk through the Big Room and the ranger tour of the King's Palace.
We met our ranger guide in an assembly area that was roped off in the former cafeteria at the 750-foot level. There were about thirty or so people on the hour and a half “King’s Palace” tour. It would take us to the deepest portion of the cavern open to the public – 850 feet beneath the surface.
We passed through four dramatically embellished chambers. Everywhere you looked, you could see stalagmites, stalactites, drapery formations, and straws. Their beauty was remarkable. Alongside the trail were small spotlights that highlighted nature's handiwork. At Carlsbad Caverns, the scale is massive.
If you ever had the opportunity to go on a ranger-led tour in a National Park, you know that they contain plenty of scientific and cultural facts. You get more information then you can absorb or later recall. Our ranger, whose name I can't remember, lived up the model. She was knowledgeable, patient, and smart. At one point, about two-thirds into the trek, the ranger had us sit down on rocks along the pathway. Once we were all seated, our guide gave us a warning; the lights were going to be turned out.
When the lights went out – the darkness was pure. No ambient light of any sort was present to push back the night that fell around us. You could not see your hand in front of your face. Gone also were the faces of those sitting right next to us. There wasn't a single fragment of light anywhere. Darkness reigned supreme.
The experience of sitting in a dark cave was further enhanced by the ranger's request to observe silence. In the darkness and quiet of a cave, we were alone. Until our guide turned back on the switch, we were immobilized. The path out was gone. Without assistance from artificial sources (path lighting, flashlight, match), we would be in trouble. If the lights didn't come back on, the experience would have deteriorated quickly from neat to nightmare.
How many times have I sat in darkness? Not the "bottom-of-cave" literal darkness but the spiritual kind when life gets out of control. I have been there more times than I can count. It's not fun - it is scary. Fear quickly accompanies, and all sorts of horrible scenarios appear in my hyperactive imagination.
When you are in the midst of darkness, it is hard to see the face of anyone else. Suddenly, it appears as though you are all alone in the universe. Downward becomes the spiral that leads unto despair. Desperation is bound to follow and push us further into the pit.
Sitting in the dark, we yearn for even a spark to push apart the night. Without the means to light up the night, we wait for a source beyond ourselves. Our faith turns to God. We seek the light that shone in the darkness. We yearn for illumination from the one who knows the fullness of the nightmare, who cries out in the dark.
Although the light source is not of our doing, it is not artificial. Instead, the light that shines is as natural as the sun's rays. It comes from the Creator of life and light itself.
The story continues tomorrow.
PRAYER:
Light a candle (or the first candle on your Advent wreath), take a deep breath, and pray…
O Come Perpetual Light and shine on those who live in darkness. Shine a light into the darkness of my limited awareness so that I may see that the refugee who struggles on the other side of the world is my brother, my sister. Shine a light into the darkness of my fears and insecurities so to increase my capacity for compassion. Shine so that I may follow you on paths of hospitality and welcome. Through the Resurrected Body of Christ. Amen.
Copyrighted 2019. Walt Lichtenberger. Permission granted to share with family and friends