The Candle of Hope

Advent begins. On Dec. 1. Advent: Old English aduent, from Latin adventus ‘arrival’, from advenire, from ad- ‘to’ + venire ‘come’. A time of preparing. I spent the better part of the weekend doing some of that. Preparing by making space. I cleaned out and reorganized cupboards. I culled the wine glasses and table linens and left shelves and cupboards empty. Seems to me that is what this time of advent is about. Making space for what is to come. The Holy Land before it was known as such, was, over 2000 years ago, in a season of waiting. Perhaps it still is. Under the strife, suffering and war, we are waiting. 2000 years ago, the Magi, the magicians, from the East, were reading the stars. The Emperor, Caesar Augustus was enjoying stability, and the people were making their way to their birthplace to be counted. Counted and taxed. Both old Elizabeth and her kinswoman, maiden Mary, were ripening with the most unexpected and miraculous pregnancies. Zechariah was mute with the news. Joseph was confused but steadfast. The angels were manifesting, in dreams, in visions, in visitations, in heavenly chorus. What a time. Heaven was dipping toward Earth and something new was on the horizon.

Whether or not you practice or believe these stories, we are embedded in them. These are some of the foundational stories that gave rise to the West. First the Greeks, then the Jews, and in the new story, Christianity. The Greek myths, the old testaments, and then the new testaments, are psychological as well as spiritual. I recently learned that packed into the first words of the Gospel of John, the new story embedded in the old stories, is made manifest.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.  Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.  In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:1-5

As posited by others, what a strange way to begin the new story. It is so unlike the synoptic gospels. Dramatic. Mystical. In John we have the collapsing of the Greek, Jewish, and Roman world views. This integration is the Christian story, the womb of what we now know as the Western world view. Bear with me, this is not meant to be a religious rendering; but rather, tries to be a psychological perspective that calls forth a spiritual one.

In Greek, beginning is archē. I can’t help but hear Archetype. The source of the types. The source of the pattern. That which derives or creates that which is typical. One does not need be a religion scholar to hear the echoes in John of Genesis I.

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.  Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. Genesis 1: 1-3

I do not consider it blaspheme to say that this is how consciousness works. From the archetype, the source, the beginning, light descends into the darkness. Consciousness is the light. And, if connected to source, if not eclipsed by complexes, darkness will be overcome. These are dark times. But, they are not unique. They are archē-typical. There is surely a pattern to existence. It is not random. Even the scientists, the atheists, and the rationalists have conceded that there is a creative intelligence writing the story of creation. Of this I am certain, there is a story. We are embedded in this story. And surely, it is through consciousness that we apprehend and participate in this story. Our life task is perhaps to know where we are in the story. Who we are in the story.

There is much to understand and much to do to prepare for the light. To prepare for consciousness. First and foremost, we need to be open to visions, and dreams, and the visitation of other worldly messengers. This is risky business. In the DSM, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual that frames much of what we do as psychotherapists, we are ever on alert for visions and visitations that might suggest a psychosis. Others might call a psychosis a possession. It is surely delusional. Whatever it is called, it is utterly destructive and painful. I recall my internships where I witnessed the dissolution of the personality into the matrix. Without containment and compassion, without a connection or a reconnection to Source, it is formless, empty, and deep. Hades, Hell, and the Abyss are stories told to describe this suffering. It is an inky black darkness without hope of light. It is nihilism.

I like to refer to the DSM as the Dark Side Manual. What if rather than sin, in modernity we have fallen into syndromes? As both Freud and Jung said, our gods and goddesses have fled the pantheon and become our neurosis. Why? Because we have lost our archē. We have fallen into the delusion that we create ourselves. Visions, dreams, and visitations without archē is madness. Connected to the story, connected to the patterns, connected to the archetypes, these encounters can be revelatory. Revelatory and utterly dumbfounding. How often have I been struck dumb like Zechariah. Dreams can do that.

To receive and hold the light that comes down or emerges from the archē of the archetypes and defeats the darkness of our complexes, we must prepare. Make ready. We can do this psychologically. Or spiritually. We must find room at the Inn of our hearts and our busy busy lives. We must take leave from the centre and the hustle and bustle of collective consciousness. We must retreat to the margins and shepherd ourselves into solitude and stillness. We must look to the patterns of the stars and prepare the gifts we will offer. We must empty the shelves and cupboards, cull the excess, gather and adorn the evergreens, weave the wreaths, and light the candles. How utterly right it is that the first candle of Advent is the candle of Hope. Hope for a better day. Hope for an illuminating dream. Hope for dawn. Hope for forgiveness. Hope for relief of suffering. Hope for a light that can overcome darkness. Hope for consciousness.

Advent offers up a time of preparation. A time of cleansing. A time of atoning. A time of making ready. And perhaps what is most startling, endearing, and true, what will be born out of the darkness will be as fragile as a babe in a manager. Like a dream. Fragile and forgiving and heralding. Sin, or complexes, are for me, not about right or wrong, good or bad, divine or evil. Sin or complexes are unconsciousness. Sin or complexes are when we miss the mark. Sin and complexes are chaos. Sin and complexes are being out of alignment with the pattern, the archē. But, as we are shown, if we prepare, the heavens will open and proclaim the good news. Creatures will realign with creation. These dark days, when the alarm sounds and the day begins, I catch my dream fragments to remind me that I am part of a bigger story. When the light of new born consciousness dawns on my darkness, I remember myself. I re-member mySelf.

Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day… and this will be a sign to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger. Luke 2:10-12.