Candlemas is a an ancient celebration I took to heart after my father died.
Candlemas, light in my darkness
Dad was struck down by an aneurism 22 years ago. I was told by phone he keeled over in his kitchen, and I thought of my childhood hideout, a willow tree toppled by lightning.
Clinical depression felled me. During those dark days, I read about Candlemas, an ancient ceremony still celebrated by Anglican, Catholic, and Orthodox believers.
The idea of speaking a blessing over candles, then lighting them ceremonially to honor Jesus, light of the world, sparked something in my pervasive gloom. A flicker of interest.
Wicks and wax
Sandalwood candles especially stirred my dulled sensibilities. I arranged them on a round tray and lit them, one by one. I don’t remember what I said, probably something like Please bless these, whatever that means, and show me the way out of this darkness.
I did not process with them down an aisle or around the house. I just needed a visual that spoke of hope.
Lifted gently from an enameled box, wooden matches kindled the flames. A quirky cast iron snuffer extinguished them.
I even consecrated my tools for the task, pronounced a made-up blessing on fire and iron.
Somehow, these seemingly simple acts—igniting and snuffing—fired an inner expectancy. Soothed my frayed nerves.
To light a candle by myself is one of my favorite prayers, writes David Steindl-Rast.
I am not talking about reading prayers by candlelight.
The very act of lighting the candle is prayer.
There is the sound of striking the match
- the whiff of smoke after blowing it out
- the way the flame flares up and then sinks
- until a drop of melted wax gives it strength
- to grow to its proper size
- and to steady itself
All this and the darkness beyond my small circle of light is prayer.
I enter into it as one enters a room.
Candlemas, today
Since AD 496, Candlemas, or Candelaria, has traditionally been celebrated February 2nd. Midway between Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, blessing the candles occurs 40 days after Christmas. These blessed candles are then used in the 40-day cycle of Lent, leading up to Easter.
The ceremony derives from the gospel story of Simeon and Anna, both present when Mary and Joseph carried Jesus into the temple for the first time. Simeon’s ensuing prophecy declared Jesus “a light for revelation to the Gentiles.”
Got a match?
So here I go again, February 2nd. The groundhog looks for his shadow. People debate over more snow or imminent thaw. Others bless candles, light them in remembrance of those they love.
In remembrance of my dad, I light my all-day, fire-in-ice candle, given me by a lifelong friend. All day it will remind me of him as well as my heavenly Father. 
What do you think about lighting a candle as prayer?
Will you light a remembrance candle for someone today?
A moving photographic sequence, narrated by David Steindl-Rice
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We Grew up with our parents lighting candles for their parents and friends every Sunday. I remember there was a donation first then the lighting of the candle ..I’m sure my mom was hoping for the kind of peace you speak of . You could feel her heart ache ,her look was unmistakable grief .. I’m sure this act of lighting of the candles brought her some measure of comfort ..
Just this small act , gesture offering is enough to show we will never forget and in that , peace and comfort…
Larry, I imagine that tradition would leave a deep impression on a kid. I wish there’d been something comparable in my youth. Your final sentence here is so beautifully said: “this small act, gesture, offering, is enough to show we will never forget” and I agree, a measure of peace and comfort surrounds us in that soft flicker of light. Quiets my soul just reading your words. Thank you.
I thought of doing this for my dad, too, but candles weren’t his thing, and while I enjoy them, it sounds to religious/ritual for me, too. So, after thinking about it for awhile, the other night, I took my box of scrap wood, all hardwood, and tossed it into the fire ring and pulled up a lawn chair. The weather was cold, but the hardwoods burned hot, bright and fast, so I was only cold on one side. I sat there for quite a while, thinking about Dad, my brothers, all who have passed on, as well as friends who are still with us who are in some ways limited. It was cathartic. Dramatic. Cleansing. Thinking about how fortunate I am. So I thank you for that, Miss Laurie, always perceptive, just as I am unable to do it just the “right” way.
I’m thinking of Frank Sinatra’s hit, “I Did It My Way,” and grinning. I’m tipping my hat to your creativity—both the hard evidence leftover from work you’ve completed AND the idea to honor your people that way. All that scrap hardwood burning cleanly under the stars, taking your time with remembrance of those gone and those still here—I’m moved just thinking about it. Thanks for telling me!
This is beautiful…and I love the idea of the holy in the simplicity of the act of lighting…alone. It reminded me of the Temple and Tent of Meeting and all the details…how it must of been in preparation…even the smallest portions…every detail. SO glad Joy shared your post! I also love your prayer focusing through your ice candle…I used to light a candle on my desk to continue to pray for my daughter throughout the day during a difficult season. Appreciated this tonight.
Dawn, that is a remarkable comparison and one I want to meditate on, too. I’ve read that Benedictines bless the implements of the kitchen and use them with attention, gratitude, and care. The idea of blessing one’s tools before beginning a project is not yet second nature to me, but I sure like the concept (when I remember it).
My mind has hummingbird tendencies: I find the sight of the ice candle helps bring me back——in a peaceful way——to renewing my prayers for the person in whose name I lit the flame.
I grew up watching my mother light candles on the birthday of those she loved who had died. This evokes that memory and encourages me to do the same, albeit within the faith tradition, for my mother and others. Thank you for this lovely post.
Cynthia, what a lovely, reverent remembrance she created. Thank you for telling me about it. I can see how meaningful that would be and feel this is something I would enjoy doing as well.
Laurie, I love the idea that the very act of lighting a candle is prayer all by itself. It’s something I need to do more often. Maybe it’s because it lets the light of Christ, His healing, power and insight into our situations. In the glow we sense an eternal flame that is never extinguished. Hope burns brighter in hearts that turn to Him.
Memory makes us soft and such is the light of a candle, reminiscent of togetherness, companionship and celebration. You write so beautifully and movingly about Candlemass and the way you are specifically holding your loved ones in prayer at this time. May you be comforted and held yourself in the circle of love and grace as you minister to others. Thinking of you.
“Memory makes us soft and such is the light of a candle . . . “—what a keen observation, Joy. I love this.
Thank you for your prayers. I am thinking of you as well this day, trusting you are being met with all you need in this time, and then some!
I have just recently started lighting a candle when I sit down to write. This new ritual began when a friend asked if I had lit the candle she’d given me. I hadn’t. I normally would have just let the candle sit unlit waiting for “some day.” But the next time I sat to write, I looked at it on the shelf & immediately rose to light it. It truly did seem like an inspired act of prayer. My spirit “stilled” and I sat with my computer knowing this work is for His glory. Now, my lit candle is part of my writing process to symbolize the presence of my LORD in that space.
On a completely different note: I am so sorry grief is so present with you Laurie. May Jesus’ nearness wrap you tightly.
Carol, what a lovely ritual. And I use that word in the sense of an act made with wholehearted intention and attention. Such a lovely visual when you look up from page or screen and are reminded of Presence with you in the endeavor.
Thank you for your caring words and prayer. I am feeling held in this time and so grateful.
Blessings on your writing today!
Thanks Laurie, fire in ice. I survive from early December to now each year with the light of a or many a candle- and a wood stove with glass front. I light a candle for you, fire in ice, this evening. Lynn
I treasure that candle holder you gave me. Lighting it against the darkness always lifts my spirits. Thank you for a lifetime of friendship. Thank you for lighting a candle for me.
Ah, the willow tree – ravaged by storm – where have I heard that before, things do make their cycles, hmmm?
John, have I told you that story? Or did you come across one of my poems or essays online about the willow? It’s definitely a personal symbol for me that reaches way back. p.s. Did you recognize that beeswax candle in the last photo?
No, I was just thinking about the verse for the bowl.
Oh, of course! I like being reminded tonight of that collaboration. Even the typo. And that extraordinary bowl.
Laurie, I wish I had known about this before.
Yes, candles are significant to me and part of my worship. My spiritual director/friend taught us lighting a candle as we gather together or even individually is recognizing the Holy Spirit among us as we gather.
I have a candle like you have…fire in ice, given to me by my friend who is fighting what seems to be a slowly losing battle with ovarian cancer. I know what her candle will become. Thanks for sharing this.
and yes, lighting a candle can and often is a prayer for me.
Carol, this idea of recognizing the Spirit’s presence with the act of lighting the candle(s) is a lovely one. I want to add this to my awareness.
I’m sad to hear of your friend’s struggle with cancer. I will imagine you lighting your fire in ice candle for her, as you feel inspired to do so. May she sense the Spirit and your love enveloping her every time you lay match to wick. May healing calm surround and permeate her.
Perhaps when we wholeheartedly light a candle in faith for another, we are somehow present to them in the spiritual realm, our faith joined with theirs despite physical distance. I hope so!
I love this article. It is quiet, gentle and speaks of healing and peace in the midst of pain, like the light of the candle flame in the darkness. What do I think of the idea that simply lighting is candle is prayer? Prayer, as I understand it, is a means of communicating with God. There are many kinds of prayers. We communicate with one another in many ways other than verbal means, I think we have the possibility of communicating with God in ways other than spoken words. Music. Art. In every act there are two elements: the outward, visible act and the inner, invisible attitude or state of the heart. I may not be able to carry a tune, but if I am singing with all my heart and love and adoration to the Lord, he accepts it because he hears my heart. So if I light a candle and my heart is adoring, worshiping or petitioning God, perhaps the act of lighting the candle can be considered prayer. Or perhaps a better idea is to see it as a symbol of my heart’s prayer. It is what we put into an act, what our heart is “saying,” that makes our words or deeds meaningful.
Jacqueline, thank you for this gentle, thoughtful response. You mention music and art. To which I’d add dance. And we could volley back and forth with more examples. Eric Liddell feeling God’s pleasure in him when he runs. But I want to say is how much I love your description of every act containing two elements. You state this with such beauty and clarity and belief. It’s a stunning thought, and one I want to be more mindful of as I go about my day today. And every day. “It is what we put into an act, what our heart is ‘saying,’ that makes our words or deeds meaningful.” Yes! Thank you so much for sharing this!
We lost my mother like that, in a heartbeat, and I, too, far from home, learned of it through an awful phone call.
What a beautiful thing to have a friendship that arcs all the way back to when you were both so small and close to the ground and … newly verbal? pre-literate?
I believe there’s a qualitative difference between prayers with words (whether spoken or thought inside the head) and prayers without. But even saying that, I’ve said things without words can be prayer, haven’t I? Lighting a candle, washing dishes, taking a walk … But to give that adverb more attention than it expects or probably wants (are adverbs introverts?), I would playfully counter that there’s nothing simple about lighting a candle.
Laura, I’m so sorry to hear of this similarity in your experience. Such a shock.
And yes, a barely-literate friendship launch lasting unto the present day is sheer marvel. Now I’m remembering the nickname I gave her, all those years ago, and smiling as I type. She is so dear to me. Must call her that again soon. It will come in handy as second childhood approaches. “)
I love your thoughts on prayers with or without text, be they oral or in the head (or even on a phone? Now that would be the Number of Numbers in the address book). Like Dudley in “The Bishop’s Wife” telling a doubting David Niven the stamp alone would be worth it.
And your playful yet thought-provoking line about lighting the candle! To light it wholeheartedly (if I can imagine your intent here), Yes yes yes and grins all around! Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
Laurie,when I sat down at my desk on Saturday I lit a pineapple sage candle to remind me, ‘this is the time I focus on listening and writing.’ Ann Voskamp has suggested it and a friend of a friend who leads a writing workshop also talked about the intentionality of the practice.
I like the idea; I was not aware of what Candlemas was but I do love the reference to Simeon and Anna–my two favorite people in the Jesus story.
Thank you for the light today.
Jody, mmmm, pineapple sage sounds warmly spicy. Burning a beautiful candle while writing is a great idea. I used to do so. Then I got careless with the paper trail surrounding my keyboard and screen. Hmmm. At present, things are to0 flammable here. Now I’m thinking some rearrangement is in order so I can experience that centering calm here as well. Thank you!