By William Loader, 15 February 1999
The darkness asks us questions.
You are out there and we do not see.
You invite us into the night, the stillness, the loneliness, the desert place.
We cannot see our shadow; the cold damp of unknowing rises up from beneath our feet.
We tread cautiously, tentatively.
We are afraid, afraid of ghosts haunting us with pectres of guilt and shame.
We would like to run back, reach the river bank, swim the Jordan, sit in the sun by the sea, mending our nets.
But you have brought us here
– with no bread.
When we look we can see only ourselves, our darkness.
When we read, it is invisible words which cannot be grasped, thoughts we cannot clutch, hope we cannot capture.
Yet the wild honey remains a taste in our mouth, a memory for a new day.
Why have you brought us here?
What miracle will you perform for us?
The darkness sighs around us, dense with your unseen presence, close to our breathing, close to our breathing.
O darkness, enlighten us, embrace us with your invisible love.
Let us see your glory in the ashes.
Take us by the hand that we may trust the darkness.
Minister to us by your Spirit that we may not be afraid.
Jesus, keep the beasts away.