See a sliver of light in the darkness
It is easy to see dark days. Sometimes I wish I could just abandon my conscience, make cookies, string some lights, and water the Christmas tree. I want to sing carols with four-part harmonies, to sip wine and smell the evergreen boughs, to shovel the snow and stoke the fire.
But I have a hard time enjoying the calm and comfort of middle-class traditions when I know that the world around me is as gloomy as ever: wealth is increasingly concentrated among the rich and powerful. Governments are tight with social welfare, markets run with little restrictions, consumers succumb to planned obsolescence, police and the courts favour one racial group (mine) over others. I could go on.
I need light now as much as ever. To catch a glimpse of hope requires a deliberate effort.
Glory in bike repairs
Earlier this month I took my winter bike in for repairs. I went to the community-based, free bike repair shop to see if they could help me with a stuck seat post or else a new frame.
When I got there I realized they were in the middle of their 24-hour “Cycle of Giving.” Several of the city’s bike shops got together, collected hundreds of kids bikes (many salvaged from the city landfill in a special bicycle recycling program) and set them in orderly rows in a parking lot outside the community centre.
Volunteer mechanics, over a dozen of them, both young men and women, took the bikes in and fixed them one by one. A DJ played music as they pumped up tires and checked the brakes. An adjacent room was an art space: they were making a mural out of reclaimed craft supplies and bike parts. Food was donated to support the volunteers.
In the end, over over 250 bikes were repaired and given to children in need.
Small packages
In the grand scheme of things, this is a small action. But when you are standing there, hearing the music, smelling the chain oil, feeling the vibe, it is uplifting. There is hope. It comes in small packages.
I had witnessed an alternative to complacency, I had seen generosity of time, talent, money, and spirit. I had seen dozens of people celebrate bikes and kids. It was splendid.
It’s a small thing. But it’s enough. If you have the eyes to see a sliver of light in the darkness, you know there is a brighter source somewhere near. Somewhere worth travelling towards.
I hope that I can also contribute to the vitality in our community and not just hide away in our enclave of sheltered Christmas spirit.
For fourth advent, I hope to report on even brighter lights among us. Not sure what that will be. Watch for it.
PS: You don’t have to tell me that this third Advent post was written after third Advent. Last week we were swamped with production of the Spring issue of Geez magazine; I often work till after midnight all weekend and that issue was no different than usual. Cheers, Aiden.
Aiden Enns is the editor of Geez magazine, a quarterly print magazine about contemplative cultural resistance (see geezmagazine.org). He holds graduate degrees in religion and journalism and is a former regional editor of Canadian Mennonite and managing editor of Adbusters He is also an organizer with Buy Nothing Christmas.
Series Summary
1. Bleak – I see ruin and deception; God is not near. Read it here
2. Dim – In darkness, we strive to see; this brings hope. Read it here.
3. Light – There are rumours that socio-political liberation can break open. Read it here.
4. Bright – We squint as we approach the epicentre of newness.
5. Christmas – We receive both less and more than expected.
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