Finding symbolism in the Winter Solstice.

The shortest day of the year is approaching. The Winter Solstice takes place this coming Tuesday. In ways that I don’t fully understand I have always felt that this is a day that should be marked – that it is an achievement of some kind. But even with this niggling sense that there is some symbolism I am missing, it is a day that gets lost in this busy week before Christmas. There is so much to do and the time is running out.
But this year I am going to stop, to pause, to notice – to try and grasp some of the meaning that I believe is there to be found. Could you pause awhile with me?
Last year I came across the book Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May. The author interviews people from all sorts of backgrounds, exploring their thoughts, perspectives, struggles and joys of winter. And she attends a number of different festivals, services and events. She heads to Stone Henge for the Winter Solstice. Here is some of what she says:
There’s no order of service or hymn sheet, no sense that we’re all expected to be thinking the same things, or even to be here for the same reasons. The glorious jumble leaves me slightly confused, but mostly elated.
At some indistinct point, the grey pre-dawn fades into bright white, and the sun is up, albeit invisibly behind a cloud. People – whoever they are, from whichever tribe- shake hands and hug and say “We have turned the year!”
Katherine May
“We have turned the year!”
There is something in that, that strikes a chord deep in me.
We have turned the year.
We have made it through the shortest days and longest nights, the darkest times. We are turning back towards the sun. We are turning back towards the light. And there is something so hopeful and hope-filled in this rhythm of the year and the turning of our planet. It offers us a chance, where we may have come a bit adrift, to reconnect with hope, to reconnect with the light, to reconnect with Him.
And maybe at the end of this year, that has brought all that it has brought you, you, like me, need to grasp this opportunity.
I am a realist, and know that if I want to mark this occasion I am more likely to make it on the sunset of the shortest day, rather than the sunrise of the next. I am certainly not up for the all-nighter that those revellers at Stone Henge enjoyed. So, on Tuesday evening I am going to head outside on the shortest day, watch the fading of the light into darkness and then say some words to mark this moment. We are going to do this as a family, actually, and there is talk of a trip to the beach. My son wants to bake something for the occasion, my daughter to make and take hot chocolate.
But if you would like to mark this moment, to join with me and many others who try and grasp something of the deeper meaning that there is embedded in this day, then feel free to use these words below, either at sunset or sunrise, depending on what works for you: my own attempt at a liturgy to guide us through this turning of the year.
We have turned the year.
We have turned the year.
With God’s help, we have made it to the turning of the year.
We are turning back to the sun.
We are turning back to the light.
As the planet turns so we turn our faces to Your Light.Where we have known darkness, bring your light.
May we hope again.
Where we have known sorrow, bring your light.
May we hope again.
Where we have known struggle, bring your light.
May we hope again.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
We will hope again.As you have walked with us, so you will walk on.
As you have watched over us, so you will watch on.
As you have waited for us, so you will wait on.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
So your love goes on.We have turned the year.
We have turned the year.
With God’s help, we have made it to the turning of the year.
We are turning back to the sun.
We are turning back to the light.
As the planet turns, we turn our faces to Your Light.
May these words be a blessing to you if you need to mark this moment.
May they be a reminder of, and a gateway through to, His hope, His light and, ultimately, Him.
Thank you Sarah. That’s beautiful!
Wonderful Sarah, thank you for sharing this. It’s good to be be reminded to stop and be and acknowledge. X
Sarah, I love this liturgy. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words
Turning back to the light – so important when darkness keeps returning. Thank you so much for sharing. Will hold on to this ❤️
Thanks for this Sarah.. quite a positive way to turn from this darkness we seem to be in and turn to the light of Christ..
🙏