Cover Image: Candles in the Dark

Candles in the Dark

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Member Reviews

A book full of hope and food for thought. I read it slowly and it made me reflect.
It's strongly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine

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Reading this throughout another lockdown was rather hopeful and had me thinking!.
I like the way you can dip into it anytime and read it.
Thank you netgalley

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This book was an unexpected delight at the end of the year. Rowan Williams is one of the world’s most prolific theological writers. This collection is less a gathering of sermons, and more an edited volume of reflections on the liturgical year as was experienced in St Clement’s, Cambridge as the pandemic proceeded. It’s not often we get to read theological meditations in a time of crisis as it happened, but this is a rare treat.

The author is open that the pandemic, the closing of the churches, the suspension of the sacraments, and the movement of a congregation into gathering via virtual medium presents challenges to faith, hope and love. However, the text is far more contemplative than one might imagine. These are less thoroughly thought out sermons and essays that we have previously read from his hand, but more nuggets, brief thoughts for the journey. Some might be eager to read broad condemnations of the church’s response to the pandemic, but, instead, the author asks to consider how one is joined to the church's worship and the Eucharistic celebration when in particular when the participants are distanced across the Internet.

He takes us through the strange liturgical year of 2020 - what does the Resurrection say about God’s unceasing love for the world, and Christ’s never-failing presence with us when we are isolated in our homes? The author has written decades worth of Easter reflections, but this one asks us to think of what it means that God has pledged himself to us and that Christ remains and living and active presence in our lives, and in the life of the church, even when its doors are closed. In the coming of Pentecost, we rejoice in the coming of the Holy Spirit, ‘who empowers us to forgive, to speak and understand the stranger, to build a community of mutual creative service….opening a space in us or the glory of the Word of God to come alive.’ In the Ascension, the love of God floods both the universe and us. Williams leads us through the Feast of the Trinity, Corpus Christi, the Transfiguration, and so on.

He touches on how we respond to God - letting go of the ego and being ‘fed by what God freely gives’ assuring us that in our humanity we are clothed with power from on high, exposing our frailties to ‘divine love and divine truth.’ He explores Spiritual Communion, a long-forgotten concept of what the Christian might gain from Holy Communion without being able to receive the elements - and obscure theological point until early 2020. For Williams, this may be timely for this moment - for a period of Spiritual Communion gives us the time to consider again ‘our common life, in and out of church, depends simply on what has been done for us, and in response we can only gaze and adore and give thanks.’

These short, pensive, mediations might well be Williams last published work before he finally retired from public life in late 2020, after a career spanning decades, and a ministry as priest, scholar, bishop, archbishop, College Master, Professor, and Peer. I thoroughly commend it to you.

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I loved these short reflections - they were beautifully written, challenging and hope filled. They didn't rush to provide answers, but lingered with the questions that pandemic has raised.

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