I sat on a bench that was just across from the entrance to the church. Through old wooden doors, I could see into a small narthex. This area was mostly filled with a wooden table covered with white lace and several sand-filled trays where the worshippers would place a lighted beeswax taper as they entered the white-washed church. As I listened to the liturgy, I watched the families arrive and light their candles. There was an older woman there who would greet the parishioners with a smile and a pat and usually a kiss or a hug for the children. She would tend the candles, rearrange them to make sure they were burning straight and lifting them out when they were extinguished. She did this many times, over and over, always very patient with the little children who sometimes wanted to light many candles or who would toddle out and just grab a candle with which to play.
As I watched, I began to think of the many times in my life when I have felt that the light had been dimmed or that I could not find a light to clearly see the path ahead of me. And then I thought of how God is like this woman, always welcoming us back with a smile and great love, handing us the light that we need to make our journey, and then gently extinguishing our lights when our pilgrimage is over.
This saintly woman is a keeper of the Light. As she carefully and lovingly tends the Holy, she serves God in such a peaceful and beautiful way. Her act is simple: to help someone light a candle. But if for a moment we see this not just as a candle but as the flame of the Spirit brightening and transforming their lives, as surely as the sun dazzles the sea, then her simple act is profound, transformative, and holy.
When I meet someone for spiritual direction, I light a candle to symbolize the presence of the Holy Spirit that is always with us. This woman helped to light a tray full of candles, a village full of candles, guiding the hands of the young children and steadying the hands of the elderly.
The dazzling sun, the many shades of blue, the candles on the Feast of Saint George . . . all this I have discovered on this tiny little island. It is a place where the flame of God's love burns so brightly because it is tended faithfully.
Read other articles in this series:
- Musings of a Meandering Pilgrim
- Exploding Easter Cart
- The Annunciation
- (Burnt) Siena
- Tales from the Crypt
After a 35-year career as a therapist and counselor educator, Rebecca now serves as a spiritual director, retreat leader, supervisor/teacher in spiritual direction training. Her practice is called HeartSpace Ministries. She is also a writer of prose and poetry.
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