walking in the dark

The walk of Holy Week is the walk of transformation.

We go to the table seeking transformation.

Until Good Friday, when there is no table, because the darkness has engulfed us.

Still, we walk into the deep darkness. We reach up, touch the walls of darkness, until darkness is all there is. We keep walking, unable to see the light, until the light prevails.

We like to say to one another that people don’t change.

We say that change is so difficult, it’s nearly impossible.

But life itself is change.

All of creation is in motion.

The cells in the human body have a lifespan. They die and are replaced.

We regenerate.

Our souls regenerate, our personalities.

We change. People change.

There always exists the potential for transformation.

Sometimes accepting change means walking alone in the dark.

It requires a willingness to confront the darkness, to be with it.

When we change, the change ripples out into our lives, changing everything around us.

On this day, when we wait in darkness, I’m thinking about how easy it is to say that violence is inevitable, that because things have always been this way, they always will be this way.

I’m thinking of how easy it is to say the darkness is too big, too powerful, the damage done too great for anything to make a difference now.

But that isn’t the truth.

The truth is each moment of our lives holds the potential for great transformation and if what I want is peace, I can start with my own heart.

I can start small. Right here, in my body.

Then my home.

Then my neighborhood.

I can make peace today, right now.

We go to the table seeking transformation and what we find there is Love.

And Love says, Look. I’ve beaten down the door. Whatever hell you’re in, take my hand. Together, we’ll leave it.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Artwork: Fra. Angelico, The Harrowing of Hell