The Blessed Quarantine - Fighting with a candle
I'm an Eastern Orthodox Christian. I was born and raised in the Eastern Orthodox Church and this is a huge part of who I am. While the church has always been part of my life, after having children it became a more prominent part of my life. My faith and my church are truly where I find my peace, my strength and my center (so to speak). One of the many aspects of the church that I have become more actively involved in is the making of prosphora (this is the bread used during the service to become the eucharist). It's truly an honor to get to participate in this offering. Although the church is currently having services with only the priest and a chanter present and the others of the congregation joining through live stream technology, the prosphora is still needed for Liturgy. Last week I baked the prosphora for Sunday. This meant that on Saturday I had to drop the bread off at the church (don't worry appropriate precautions were taken). While I was there I went into the nave (the central part of the church where the congregation gathers during services) to pray. I entered the church, being very careful to use a cloth to open the door and thinking about how to sanitize everything as I was leaving and I began to cry. No, not cry, sob. I found myself standing in the center of the church sobbing in the silent, dimly lit space that is typically full of the faithful. I looked at the pew where we usually stand and thought about the beautiful sound of the many children who attend our church. I felt both completely alone and completely surrounded by the saints of the church who stand with us in all that we do.
If you have never seen the inside of an Orthodox church, I highly recommend looking into a visit (even if virtual) because the pure beauty of the iconography is amazing. For now I will try to offer you a bit of a picture. Along the front of the church is what is called an iconostasis. It is literally a "wall" of icons including the Theotokos and Christ, among several others, behind which is the alter. Typically on Sunday mornings I light a candle for my classroom. I ask for guidance and intercessions from St. Nicholas and then place the candle in front of the icon of St. Nicholas. As I was sobbing (remember all of this is happening while I'm sobbing in the middle of the church), I realized that there was no candle in front of St. Nicholas. I decided that I was going to light a candle for the children, parents, and teachers who are all trying to navigate this current norm of distance learning. I was particularly thinking of students who don't have a lot of support at home, ones who may even have dangerous or neglectful homes. You know the ones where school was their safe place. So, my sobs start to subside and I go get a 7 day candle to light. Usually, I use a taper candle to light the 7 day candle but due to the current situation, there were no taper candles burning. At this point in my head I'm thinking, ok, how am I going to light this candle? (The 7 day candles are in tall glass candle holders.) How am I going to get the flame to the wick that is kind of down in the holder? This is when I come up with the plan to use the tallest currently burning 7 day candle to light the candle. I know that I have to lift the candle out of the holder to get it to the flame of the burning candle, so I do that. It's then that I realize there are really 2 holders, I clear plastic one and a red glass one. This still seems like it's no big deal and I tilt the candle and start to lower the wick towards the flame of the burning candle. This is when lighting a candle really becomes and event. I realize that I can't get the wick to the flame with the clear holder in place. No big deal, I'll just lift the candle out of the holder, right? Now I'm holding just the candle and I lower it towards the flame. It lights exactly as I expect. I tilt the candle back up to put it in the clear holder and the wick slides out of the candle, which puts the flame out. Well, that was startling. I then spend the next 5-7 minutes literally fighting with the candle to get it lit. Finally, I remembered some thin sticks that are sometimes used to light candles and I thought "oh, that'll work". As I'm standing there holding the candle that I'm desperately trying to light and melting the wax around the wick (with a thin flaming stick) enough to get the wick to light, I have this overwhelming sense of how important this is. How much this whole process matters. I kept thinking, "I won't give up, I promise, I won't give up."
So, after several minutes, I realize the wick is lit, it's not a full blazing flame, but it's lit. I carry the candle to the icon of St. Nicholas, I pray for intercessions and I place the candle on the ledge in front of the icon. When I step back, I look at the candle and think "that's not much of a flame, I hope it stays lit". At that moment I look up and I'm looking directly at the icon of Christ. In that moment I am completely flooded with the feeling of "all it takes is a flicker". The peace that I felt at that moment was overwhelming.
All we need to bring to the situation is a "flicker". God can do the rest. He can use the smallest flicker of faith, hope, or love to fill us with His light. All He ever asks is that we don't give up. He asks us to stand quietly in His presence fighting with the candle that we know we should light and don't give up because He is standing there with us and He is going to use the flicker to light to the way. He is going to show us that as long as we bring Him our flicker He will turn it into a full flame. Which He did with the 7 day candle I lit. On Sunday morning, during the live stream Liturgy, my husband pointed out that the candle in front of St. Nicholas was a full flame.
Oh, and if you have ever wondered if God wants us to laugh, just pause for a moment and imagine the comedy of errors that the lighting of the candle truly was.
If you have never seen the inside of an Orthodox church, I highly recommend looking into a visit (even if virtual) because the pure beauty of the iconography is amazing. For now I will try to offer you a bit of a picture. Along the front of the church is what is called an iconostasis. It is literally a "wall" of icons including the Theotokos and Christ, among several others, behind which is the alter. Typically on Sunday mornings I light a candle for my classroom. I ask for guidance and intercessions from St. Nicholas and then place the candle in front of the icon of St. Nicholas. As I was sobbing (remember all of this is happening while I'm sobbing in the middle of the church), I realized that there was no candle in front of St. Nicholas. I decided that I was going to light a candle for the children, parents, and teachers who are all trying to navigate this current norm of distance learning. I was particularly thinking of students who don't have a lot of support at home, ones who may even have dangerous or neglectful homes. You know the ones where school was their safe place. So, my sobs start to subside and I go get a 7 day candle to light. Usually, I use a taper candle to light the 7 day candle but due to the current situation, there were no taper candles burning. At this point in my head I'm thinking, ok, how am I going to light this candle? (The 7 day candles are in tall glass candle holders.) How am I going to get the flame to the wick that is kind of down in the holder? This is when I come up with the plan to use the tallest currently burning 7 day candle to light the candle. I know that I have to lift the candle out of the holder to get it to the flame of the burning candle, so I do that. It's then that I realize there are really 2 holders, I clear plastic one and a red glass one. This still seems like it's no big deal and I tilt the candle and start to lower the wick towards the flame of the burning candle. This is when lighting a candle really becomes and event. I realize that I can't get the wick to the flame with the clear holder in place. No big deal, I'll just lift the candle out of the holder, right? Now I'm holding just the candle and I lower it towards the flame. It lights exactly as I expect. I tilt the candle back up to put it in the clear holder and the wick slides out of the candle, which puts the flame out. Well, that was startling. I then spend the next 5-7 minutes literally fighting with the candle to get it lit. Finally, I remembered some thin sticks that are sometimes used to light candles and I thought "oh, that'll work". As I'm standing there holding the candle that I'm desperately trying to light and melting the wax around the wick (with a thin flaming stick) enough to get the wick to light, I have this overwhelming sense of how important this is. How much this whole process matters. I kept thinking, "I won't give up, I promise, I won't give up."
So, after several minutes, I realize the wick is lit, it's not a full blazing flame, but it's lit. I carry the candle to the icon of St. Nicholas, I pray for intercessions and I place the candle on the ledge in front of the icon. When I step back, I look at the candle and think "that's not much of a flame, I hope it stays lit". At that moment I look up and I'm looking directly at the icon of Christ. In that moment I am completely flooded with the feeling of "all it takes is a flicker". The peace that I felt at that moment was overwhelming.
All we need to bring to the situation is a "flicker". God can do the rest. He can use the smallest flicker of faith, hope, or love to fill us with His light. All He ever asks is that we don't give up. He asks us to stand quietly in His presence fighting with the candle that we know we should light and don't give up because He is standing there with us and He is going to use the flicker to light to the way. He is going to show us that as long as we bring Him our flicker He will turn it into a full flame. Which He did with the 7 day candle I lit. On Sunday morning, during the live stream Liturgy, my husband pointed out that the candle in front of St. Nicholas was a full flame.
Oh, and if you have ever wondered if God wants us to laugh, just pause for a moment and imagine the comedy of errors that the lighting of the candle truly was.
This is the iconostasis of our beautiful church.
You can see part of the icon of St. Nicholas all the way to the right.
Thank you to my friend James who posted this in Holy Transfiguration's Facebook group.
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