Sanctuary Advent: Light in the Darkness

This Advent, we asked for creative work for a collective project called Light in the Darkness. All the submissions below are original work. Written pieces are linked to other pages for the full text. Several works are displayed in person at Sanctuary. Thank you to everyone who contributed to this outstanding reflection of light and darkness!

3 Photographs by Becky Schaffner. (Click each image to enlarge.) The moon on its own emits no light, yet it shines brightly on the darkest of nights. It is simply illuminated by and reflects the sun’s light. As we experience loss, as we struggle with our faith, as we journey through life there are times of deep darkness. In this season, we are reminded that out of darkness there shown a great light (Isaiah 9:2), that Emmanuel was here to be God with us and in us, to illuminate our path, to be reflected through us. Waiting, with hope…

3 Photographs by Mim Winn. (Click each image to enlarge.) For the past year and 11 months I've taken at least one photograph everyday. My motto is if I look, I will see; something of interest. Nature speaks to me as I look for hidden beauty in shadows, reflections and varying lights. I sense God is closer to me as I see creation in new and differing ways.

Some of the children in our Kids Wing singing “This Little Light of Mine.”

Watercolor by Ruth Field. Our family enters into the winter forest. We are awed by God's creation. We find laughter, joy, fun, relief. We connect with God. (You can view this watercolor in person at Sanctuary.)

2 Photographs by Meg Tisinger. (Click each image to enlarge.)

Quilt by Jenn Jacobson. In the last year I experienced some of the hardest moments in my life, and some of the best moments in my life. I wanted to create something that explored how two opposing emotions can be interwoven, dependent on one another, and coexistent. (You can view this quilt in person at Sanctuary.)

Numinous, a poem by Steve Miller

2 Drawings by Lonnie Matthews. (Click each image to enlarge.) The first image is a honey locust tree drawing which is from a picture taken on a beautiful day that Kim and I went hiking. It reminded me of the crown of thorns. The second image is a broken tree like in the Derecho storm and the swing for a child turning tragedy into light. (You can view these drawings in person at Sanctuary.)

3 collages by Cory Hutchinson-Reuss. (Click each image to enlarge.)

[i have searched for the patterns of your healing / the earth itself has found me]

[surely you were here all the time & i didn’t know it]

[sometimes the snow / sometimes memory]

Artist’s Statement: When I experiment with words and images, the process involves an interplay of knowing and not-knowing, of light and dark, and I experience both as necessary to the cycles of nature, the Spirit, and creativity.

(You can view these collages in person at Sanctuary.)

Spirit, Darkness, Breath, Light

by Jen Brown
*A man in linen robes hunches over a writing board. An oil lamps spills light over his work: a scroll, waiting for ink from his stylus. But his stylus is still.*

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**Photograph by Margy Towers.** Candles reflect the light within all of us. They soothe our souls when the world feels dark. Lighting candles brings beauty to the world, but also illuminates a way for us to feel connected to the light of God. God’s light is the only way to find everlasting light in the darkness.

On left, a textile with a typewritten phrase from the Book of Common Prayer: "FROM PESTILENCE FAMINE BATTLE MURDER AND FROM SUDDEN DEATH GOOD LORD FROM LIGHTNING AND TEMPEST, FROM PLAGUE DELIVER US." The phrase is overtyped 549 times. On the right is the same textile, after washing. By India Johnson. At the beginning of the pandemic, I was glued to the news and the case counts for Iowa and Johnson county. For a bit, there were just a few cases in the whole state. Since my personality type is "Christian woman with a bullet journal," I would write the case count for the state in my journal each day as I was trying to make a plan for the day. It was like a way to check the news and acknowledge reality and move on each day, instead of being unhealthily sucked into reading articles about the pandemic for hours. One day in April 2020 the case count for the state shot up dramatically and it went from like a dozen cases to 549 overnight. That's the day I made this piece. It sat around for about a year, and I washed it after I got vaccinated. (You can view this work in person at Sanctuary.)