Disorientation, Winter Lights, and Truth
by Betsy Bennett
MANY YEARS AGO WHEN WE HAD YOUNG READERS in our household, one of the HarperCollins “I Can Read” books called The Drinking Gourd was part of our family book collection. The story of two families — a white Quaker family and a Black family that had been enslaved and was trying to get to Canada — introduced children to the history of the Underground Railroad. The title of the book referred, of course, to the Big Dipper, which points the way to the North Star that could orient people and help them find their way to the northern states and Canada. In a perilous situation, the stars pointed the way, as they can whenever people cross unfamiliar terrain or sail on open water.
In the days after the November 5 election, I became viscerally aware of the perilous situation we are in as a nation. With many of the guardrails and guideposts of our system seeming suddenly to be gone, I felt disoriented.
My disorientation brought to mind an image from Psalm 107 of “wandering in a trackless waste.” In the Psalm, God makes princes who have oppressed people “wander in trackless wastes”. Right now in the U. S., though, it feels like the oppressive princes are just fine. It’s the rest of us who wander in the trackless waste of our political and societal landscape.
When so many of the incoming administrations's proposed policies and appointments call for our attention, where do we focus?
What terrifies me most is the expected reversal of our gains in mitigating climate change. Looking at what’s already happening to the Earth’s climate — and what probably lies ahead — brings on true existential anguish and profound grief. Humankind will live — or not — for generations with the overheated, unstable climate the American people chose by electing a climate-change-denying President.
But climate change isn’t the only issue. Whole groups of people now fear for their immediate security and survival: undocumented immigrants — and documented ones who can easily get caught up in large-scale deportations; people in the the LGBTQ+ community; women and girls; disabled people; people with a variety of ethnic, racial, and religious identities; journalists; writers and artists; and all those condemned as “less than” by those coming into power.
So where do we direct our attention? When everything looks uncertain, what do we try to stabilize first? When the landscape and terrain are unfamiliar, what is left to guide us?
The stars shining in the December night skies remind us to look for guiding stars in the deep darkness. Truth is our guiding star.
When we can’t immediately see the truth, this can sound too abstract; using truth as a guide may not sound very helpful. But if we are intentional about seeking the truth and holding onto it by spending some time in contemplation once we glimpse it, it becomes clear enough to serve us well.
“Believe in truth” is one of the lessons from the twentieth century that can help us resist authoritarianism, writes Timothy Snyder in his book On Tyranny. Following the work of Victor Klemperer, Snyder says truth can die through propaganda and repetition of lies. Part of our practice of seeking the truth and witnessing to it is being aware of these methods of obscuring the truth, and being vigilant in the way we hear what is being said and in what we ourselves say.
ELECTION DAY CAME JUST AFTER THE HALFWAY POINT between the Autumnal Equinox and the Winter Solstice. Ancient Celts observed this halfway point as Samhain. Many branches of Christianity celebrate it as All Saints Day. Most of us know this point — where we turn from the lightest part of the Northern Hemisphere’s year to the darkest part — as Halloween.
As we Third Actors entered the ever darkening weeks between November 1 and the Winter Solstice, it felt as if we were also entering a dark period of our history — one whose duration and depth of darkness we could not yet know.
For people of many faiths, the days of the year with the least daylight are made rich with meaning through celebrations that come around the time of the Winter Solstice. Along with our sacred stories, we have candles, lights, gift-giving, and special meals and social gatherings to help us to live meaningfully and even joyfully in the dark chilly days of December. Our celebrations and religious practices don’t make the hours of darkness any shorter, but they can make it easier to bear these colder days when the sunlight is low and short in duration.
One of the Scripture readings for Christians during Christmastide is John 1:1-18, known as the Prologue to John. It speaks not of the infant Jesus but of Christ as the primordial Word through which all things came into being. “What has come into being in him was life,” writes John, “and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” It is, of course, the very nature of light to overcome darkness, as darkness is simply the absence of light.
As we go toward the Winter Solstice, some of us are grieving, some of us are anxious, some of us are stunned, and some of us are angry and ready to get to work.
WHEN OUR THIRD ACT FAITH COORDINATING COMMITTEE MET on November 6, the consensus was that we needed some time to grieve and get a better sense of what the next administration is planning before we decide on our focus for the future. We need to see what Third Act Central is prioritizing so we can discern how people of faith might best be able to support that work. Our work in the coming months, whatever that looks like, will reflect not only these realities, but also the synthesis of what individual members of Third Act Faith see as our own call at this time.
Whatever the work of Third Act Faith in the years ahead looks like, our light in the darkness will be truth — the light common to all the world’s great faiths. Just as the darkness cannot overcome light, the lies about people and science and basic facts cannot overcome the truth.
I’M FEELING A CALL TO BE SOME SORT OF WITNESS TO THE TRUTH in speaking and writing, in praying and preaching. To that end, I’m intentionally bringing the reality of the climate crisis to mind each day. Choosing to ignore the reality and let extreme global warming happen doesn’t seem like a faithful option. Others who feel called to engage in traditional political action and protest will be bringing the light of truth into the darkness through public actions. Those who quietly give money to organizations and candidates whose purpose is to protect the lives of other people and of other species will be putting their money on the light of truth being more powerful than the darkness of lies. No matter what form our work takes, discerning what is true — and consciously keeping the truth before us — must be at the core of all we do. It will both orient us and strengthen us.
At our age, we elders have wisdom resulting from lots of experience in distinguishing truth from lies and nonsense. For many of us, retirement has freed us to speak and act more openly. And we are way past the stage of needing to impress others or trying to fit in! Members of Third Act Faith also have a foundation of religious teachings and spiritual practices of which seeking and speaking truth are an integral part.
Despite our initial disorientation, we are perhaps more ready for the work ahead on behalf of our democracy and our climate than ever before. When we feel lost in the darkness of threats and lies and abuses of power, we have the light of truth to guide us — and the company of others who also bear the light of truth — to help us see clearly and support one another as we find our way.
About Betsy Bennett
The Rev. Betsy Bennett is one of the co-facilitators of Third Act Faith. Retired from serving as Archdeacon of the Episcopal Diocese of Nebraska and teaching philosophy at Hastings College, Betsy teaches courses in creation care and diaconal ministry at The Bishop Kemper School for Ministry. She enjoys traveling with her spouse, visiting their children and grandchildren, watching birds, and writing at Connected Passages on Substack.
came to this writing through Deb Rienstra's Refugia Faith news letter. Thank you for your encouraging words
Beautifully written. We do miss your thoughtful and inspiring messages at Church of the Resurrection, but it is so good to know you are so involved doing the good work we need so badly now. Alison