O Radiant Dawn and Longest Night: A Walk in the Labyrinth – 12/23/2011

December 23rd, 2011

The antiphon for Dec. 21, Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, is “O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice …” It came to life as the morning sun highlighted Dumbell Peak, making the mountain shimmer with brilliance.

The light of “Radiant Dawn” was still alive as we entered the longest night of the year via the outdoor labyrinth, illuminated by candles that melted into ice-crusted snow.

Labyrinth by Candle Light

Even though the candlelit labyrinth has become another cherished Holden tradition, I’d intended to skip it. I knew it would be cold (17 degrees). I’d helped set up the candles in the afternoon and figured one round trip on the icy, one-mile path to the labyrinth was sufficient for the day.

But when I walked out of Koinonia after choir practice and saw the brilliant sky aglow with more stars than I’d witnessed in years, I could not resist. I had the feeling that a night like this promised a once-in-a-lifetime experience. All the world glittered, from the stars overhead to the ice under my boots, sparkling under the beam of my flashlight.

The labyrinth was alive with light and motion as Villagers quietly walked the circuitous paths. Labyrinth walks are usually intended to set one on an inner journey, but circumstances dictated that our labyrinth walk would connect us – not with our inner selves but with each other.

The labyrinth path, stamped into the snow, is just wide enough for one person. People making their way to the center would meet people on their way out with no room to pass. The only solution was to embrace and rotate. Not everyone was comfortable with this routine, including me. Yet over and over, I grabbed shadowy figures, shuffled through a quasi do-si-do, managing to keep my balance solely by depending on another – I knew not who.

Walking the labyrinth was less a mystical experience and more a real-life lesson in the importance of trusting in the embrace of others, even those whom we cannot clearly see.

By,
Mary Koch

Photo by,
Andy Richardson