Yule, the Season of the Longest Night
The holiday season is not merry for everyone. Whether we’ve lost a loved one, are dealing with our own or another’s physical or mental illness, are stressed financially or for other reasons, are isolated or disconnected from family and friends, or are simply deeply attuned to all the suffering in the world, the juxtaposition of a season when over-the-top cheer is the relentless focus right next to our own pain can be extremely difficult.
Enter Yule, the Season of the Longest Night. Yule begins on the Winter Solstice, the literal longest night of the year, and lasts for 12 days. Yule rituals ideally begin at dusk around December 21 with a group of people sitting in a circle in the darkness. This is such a powerful image and an even more powerful experience. We begin by acknowledging, allowing, even embracing the dark. There are gifts to be found in the darkness. We don’t have to pretend to be happy; there is space for grief here. There is time for rest. We sit quietly, reflectively, present to what is and present to one another. We may be sad, but we are not sad alone.
Then, someone lights one candle followed by another and another until there is light softly glowing all around us: the rebirth of the light. We celebrate that starting now, on the darkest night of winter, each day will get a little longer, bringing more and more light. We may burn a Yule log, engage in spiritual reflection, enjoy peaceful music, decorate with evergreens, and then share a feast together. This celebration, for me, has felt much more authentic in recent years than traditional Christmas parties and events.
Of course, there is no reason we can’t do both: embrace the Yule gifts of quiet, reflection, rest, and faith-in-the-midst-of-darkness and also embrace the upbeat spirit of the Christmas season. If it’s within our capacity to do so, we can enjoy all the various winter traditions. However, if this year your vibes are more tired and sad than energized and jolly, I invite you to let nature be your guide and embrace the longest night and the slow return of the light. In fact, our peaceful, candlelight Christmas Eve service, echoing so many aspects of even older Yule practices, would be a good place to do just that.
God of winter dark and stillness and rest, God who is just as present in our grief as in our joy, God of connection and faith and healing and hope, guide us through these times with a clear awareness of your presence. Help us to live attuned and aligned to the seasons and cycles you created in nature, wisdom that is always there for us. Thank you for the gifts found in darkness and the community that surrounds us even then. Amen.
Roxanne is a member of Peace Church most often seen on the “Zoom stained glass window”. She has learned to embrace winter as a time to practice all forms of rest and to foster health within and below the surface.