Both/And: Bring meaning and sparkle to the darkest season

It’s always a delight when Rev. Dr. Larry King joins us and reminds us of the things that matter most. His message on Sunday, Hang the Lights Up High, kicked off our December theme of Celebration, weaving history, humor, and heartfelt truth into an invitation to illuminate our lives, inside and out, during the darkest time of the year.

Larry began with the real history of Christmas: how early Christians borrowed generously from pagan traditions, how the holiday wasn’t celebrated until centuries after Jesus’ birth, and how the date was chosen less for accuracy than for alignment with rituals people already celebrated.

The Puritans, when they came to the U.S., rejected those rituals entirely, wanting to distance themselves from the persecution they associated with their homeland. Christmas didn’t become an official American celebration until the mid-1800s.

His point wasn’t just trivia, though. It was the contrast. The Puritans were single-minded; Christmas was sacred and reverent, a time to go within. 

Larry asked if we could consider the “both/and," which is one of my favorite perspectives, because there's often at least some truth in everything.

Right now, we can go inward and explore the spiritual meaning of this season, dive deep into finding what's meaningful for us, and fully enjoy the festivity. We can sit with our private thoughts and quiet truths, and still hang the lights up high.

Why We Need the Light

Living in the Pacific Northwest, this time of year can be dark, literally and figuratively. So I've dubbed the period between Thanksgiving and Valentine’s Day the “sparkle season.” I appreciate the holiday lights, sparkly clothes, and all the ways we celebrate the season; they're all tiny acts of defiance against the darkness. They're also where I find #momentsofjoy, and am reminded how little it takes to make an impact.

This season, we must remember and connect with both our inner light and the outer light, to listen inwardly while also celebrating outwardly. Both. And.

A Season of Meaning, Memory, and Change

For many of us, this time of year is layered. Christmas, the New Year, and the Winter Solstice all converge, along with other celebratory holidays and events. While everyone has their interpretation and experience, I find it to be a natural time of reflection, as I think about closing and starting a new year. I make a practice of looking back at what I accomplished, what I learned, what I want to release, and what I want more of. 

Rev. Larry spoke of planting seeds for the coming year, both literally and metaphorically (he’s already looking at seed catalogs!): What seeds are you planting for the year ahead? What do you want to cultivate next year and beyond? What are you ready to create?

Even when circumstances in our personal lives, or the world, aren’t ideal, this philosophy reminds us that we're not defined by our circumstances. We have the power to choose what we focus on, what we claim, and what we nurture. That’s part of the miracle of this season: illumination isn’t just something that happens to us; we have a role in it.

Tenderness, Joy, and Everything In Between

Larry also acknowledged something important: for many of us, this season can be tender. Some of us have lost loved ones, and most of us don't have Hallmark holidays. Some of us are grieving, anxious, or simply tired.

And yet joy still appears in small, unexpected ways. This is the paradox of life: beauty and anguish, joy and sorrow, light and dark. Both. And.

We can feel sadness without falling into despair. We can honor our truth without losing our light. We can soften into the season without forcing cheer we don’t feel. And, as we acknowledge our inner world, and choose intentionally, our outer world can shift. Even in dark moments, perhaps especially when it's dark, we can hang our lights up high.

Intentionalizing the Season

Larry asked us about our intentions for this season, and many of us shared. I've thought more about this since speaking up on Sunday. I'm savoring what is, focusing on what matters, and playing with ideas about what I want to create. Even when the world feels heavy, I choose how I move through it. I get to create meaning, joy, and purpose, one thought, one moment, one light at a time. The more intentional I am about this, the more I see it working.

Whatever this time of year holds for you, whether it’s celebration (and, let me just acknowledge that awesome version of Celebrate from the stage!), contemplation, tenderness, or all of the above, I hope we can all embrace both/and and hang the lights up high. Little things matter.

With gratitude, always,

Laura