Observing Advent Darkness

Lea McCarthy recounts a unique Advent tradition and how it helps enter into the spirit of waiting in hope for the coming of Christ.

Advent, that beautiful season the Church gives us to prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmastime, is almost here! If you’re like me, you probably just realized that the first Sunday of Advent is in November, not December, and are scrambling to find pink and purple candles for your family’s Advent wreath! (Psst! Check Hobby Lobby!)

During these last few weeks before Christmas there is usually a flurry of activity going on whichever way you turn. There are stacks of Christmas cards to be mailed out, cookies that aren’t going to bake themselves, social events to attend, and gifts to shop for. It’s so easy to get caught up in the holiday whirlwind and find yourself hurtling at breakneck mental speed toward Christmas without taking a moment to prepare your heart for Christ! So this year, my husband and I are going to attempt something radical: Advent darkness. 

Awaiting in Darkness  

Growing up, I can’t remember a time when my family didn’t have this tradition, though I am sure they waited until we kids were older to begin it. In the season of Advent, we would simply do without electric light — any electric light! At sunset, my mom would gather all the candles and oil lamps that we had stockpiled before Advent and would light them all. It was the older children’s responsibility to distribute the candles into well-trafficked rooms such as the bathroom, living room, and kitchen to make sure we had enough light to see by.

If we needed something from a room that didn’t have a light in it, we would carefully carry a candle in its little glass to light our way, then take it back with us when we were done. Surprisingly, we didn’t have as many wax spills as you might think! The three oil lamps were prized possessions during Advent. They were much brighter than even our biggest candles and it was so much easier to work on projects, cook dinner, or read by their stronger flame. The necessity of sharing the light brought us closer together: we usually ended up congregating as a family around the oil lamp set on the kitchen table as we worked on various crafts or read.  

During winter when the days are short and the sun sets early, the darkness is very noticeable when you aren’t able to flick on a switch. If someone opened the fridge for a snack, every pair of eyes in the kitchen would snap to the sudden glorious beam of light that poured out, bathing the surroundings in a momentary brilliance before the snacker closed the fridge and we were once again sunk into the dim twilight. 

However, feast days such as the Immaculate Conception on December 8 and Sundays in Advent were different. We could use electric lights on those days because we were celebrating with the Church! Boy, how joyfully we ran around the house at sunset flicking on the lights and reveling in the brightness that followed! Evenings on feast days felt merry and festive in comparison with the quiet, subdued calm of the dark days. Awaiting in darkness made us really appreciate the light when we had it, and to think about the longing of the people of Israel as they waited for the Messiah. 

Listen for God’s Still, Small Voice 

The other thing that always struck me about Advent darkness is the quiet. The soft candlelight seemed to usher in a time of quiet, mystical stillness that no one wanted to break by speaking too loudly or running around in wild play. It would have seemed intrusive to introduce any rambunctious activities into that time and space. Not only that, but some of the choices for how you spend time were naturally taken away. Life became a little simpler in those quiet hours since one couldn’t use electronics or do things requiring a lot of light.  

The whole point of Advent darkness is to provide a place of sanctuary from the hustle and bustle going on in the secular world around us and to make us more appreciative of the coming of Christ the Light of the world. As our little family begins our Advent journey toward the joyful time of Christmas, we hope to enter into the spirit of quiet waiting. It will challenge my focus and help to structure my day because I know I will be answering emails or working on the computer only during daylight hours. When sunset hits, it will be time to focus on other things such as prayer, reading, writing letters, and spending quality time with my husband and toddler. 

Perhaps Advent darkness will help us make space in our busy lives to hear God’s whispering voice in our hearts and bring us closer to Mary and Joseph living their simple, humble life as they prepared for the long journey to Bethlehem for the birth of their Son.  

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Copyright 2025 Lea McCarthy
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