At this time of year, we start to notice the lengthening daylight. The return of the light to the land has been celebrated for thousands of years in the northern hemisphere. As January turns to February the ancient Celts celebrated Imbolc, which translates as ‘in the belly’ or ‘ewe’s milk', a festival honouring the Earth Goddess as she starts her transformation from the Crone aspect of winter to the Maiden aspect of spring.
In the Catholic Church in Ireland 1 February is the Feast of St Bridget, who is thought to be based on the Celtic goddess Brighid, who tends the triple fires of smith-craft, healing and poetry. In Roman times, candles were carried in the streets to celebrate the Goddess Februa, the mother of Mars, and in the Eleusinian mysteries, the carrying of torches celebrated the return of Persephone to the light. Catholic and Anglican Christians celebrate 2 February as Candlemas, commemorating the purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the presentation of Christ in the Temple, when candles representing Christ as the Light of the World are blessed in church.
Throughout human history, fire has been regarded as sacred. The great fire in the sky, the sun, brought warmth and light. Humans learnt to use fire to cook food and to keep them safe from predators. People gathered around communal fires to tell stories, and hold ceremonies and celebrations. We still do this – if only on bonfire night. In my family, my cousin has a big party on the solstices, centred around a bonfire.
Fire can be tamed, but by its nature it is wild. It is both wonderful and terrible. It must be respected, because it burns. It has the power to create and to destroy. Some cultures honoured fire as a deity. Some saw fire as a sign of the presence of the divine.
Fire is often a symbol for the presence of the divine in the Bible. In the Acts of the Apostles, the Holy Spirit descends on Jesus' disciples at Pentecost in the form of tongues of fire. In Exodus, Yahweh speaks to Moses from the burning bush and counsels him on leading the people from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the promised land of Canaan. Yahweh says to Moses, “take off your shoes, for you are standing on holy ground.”
Sacred fire became an important part of many religious traditions. The ancient tribes of Northern Europe lit sacred bonfires as part of their festival celebrations. In Zoroastrianism, the temple fire is kept burning in perpetuity, representing purity and the light of the wisdom of the supreme God, Ahura Mazda. During the eight days of Hanukkah, Jews light the eight candles of the menorah. At Diwali, Hindus set small lamps all around the house. Candles representing Jesus Christ as the light of the world are part of several Christian rituals, such as Christingle and Candlemas services. In modern Druid rituals, the sacred circle is consecrated and blessed with fire and water at the start of the ceremony. Even if we do not practice any of these traditions, we may light candles to represent prayers and in memory of the dead. When Unitarians gather, we light our chalice. This is our sacred fire.
Flame is among the oldest of religious symbols, and the chalice has been associated with communion since the early centuries of Christianity. The chalice and the flame were brought together as a Unitarian symbol by an Austrian artist, Hans Deutsch, in 1941.
Living in Paris during the 1930s, Deutsch drew critical cartoons of Adolf Hitler. When the Nazis invaded Paris in 1940, he fled to Portugal, where he met Reverend Charles Joy, director of the Unitarian Service Committee (USC), newly founded in Boston to assist Eastern Europeans who needed to escape Nazi persecution.
Lisbon was the only open port in Europe in the early 1940s and was thus the preferred destination for millions of refugees. The USC helped artists, intellectuals, and dissidents escape the Nazis, many of whom fled without identification papers. The Lisbon office concentrated on helping them obtain replacement papers. Deutsch began working for the USC. He later wrote to Joy:
“There is something that urges me to tell you…how much I admire your utter self denial and readiness to serve, to sacrifice all, your time, your health, your well being, to help, help, help... I am not what you may actually call a believer. But if your kind of life is the profession of your faith—as it is, I feel sure—then religion, ceasing to be magic and mysticism, becomes confession to practical philosophy and—what is more –to active, really useful social work. And this religion— with or without a heading—is one to which even a `godless’ fellow like myself can say wholeheartedly, Yes!”
From his Lisbon headquarters, Joy oversaw a secret network of couriers and agents. The USC was an unknown organization in 1941 and Joy felt that it needed some visual image to represent Unitarianism to the world, especially when dealing with government agencies abroad. Joy asked Deutsch to create a symbol for their papers “to make them look official, to give dignity and importance to them, and at the same time to symbolize the spirit of our work…. When a document may keep a man out of jail, give him standing with governments and police, it is important that it look important.”
Hans Deutsch thus made his lasting contribution to Unitarianism. In pencil and ink he drew a chalice with a flame. Joy described it to the USC board in Boston as “a chalice with a flame, the kind of chalice which the Greeks and Romans put on their altars. The holy oil burning in it is a symbol of helpfulness and sacrifice…. This was in the mind of the artist. The fact, however, that it remotely suggests a cross was not in his mind, but to me this also has its merit. We do not limit our work to Christians. Indeed, at the present moment, our work is nine-tenths for the Jews, yet we do stem from the Christian tradition, and the cross does symbolize Christianity and its central theme of sacrificial love.”
The flaming chalice design was made into a seal for papers and a badge for agents moving refugees to freedom. In time it became a symbol of Unitarianism and Unitarian Universalism all around the world. When Deutsch designed the flaming chalice, he had never been to a Unitarian church, but he had encountered faith in action, people who were willing to risk their lives to save others.
We light our chalice at the beginning of every service to signify that we are creating sacred space. The act of lighting our chalice connects us with other Unitarians all over the world who start worship in the same way. The chalice cup signifies the cup of community that holds us together. Its use in symbolic acts of sharing in community goes back to an early Czech dissenter, Jan Hus, who, in the early 1400s, offered the communion chalice cup of wine to his congregation at a time when it was reserved for priests alone.
The chalice flame also symbolises our community. A flame is dynamic and changing. A flame needs three elements:
Fuel – material things such as a building, chairs, our sound system, money – all the physical things that we need to sustain our community.
Heat – the spark of intelligence, the warmth of human connection, even the friction of honest disagreement – all the thought-provoking and moving moments that contribute to the energy and vitality of the life of our community as we support each other on our spiritual journeys.
Air – the element of air is associated with the Spirit, the same word – ruach – means both breath and spirit in Hebrew. Inspiration, the breathing in of that invisible element of Spirit – deep moments of sacred connection in meditation, in prayer, and in listening to each other. With the element of air, we also give people the space to develop their own spiritual path, free from the restrictions of dogma, whilst being held in the warmth of human community.
The chalice flame can also symbolise hands lifted in prayer, the light of the truth we seek, and the divine spark in all of us – the inner light of conscience, reason and experience.
There is another set of three fiery things that I think represent the vitality of our community – the triple fires of Brighid, Irish Saint and Goddess. Brighid tends the fires of smithcraft, poetry and healing:
The forge is the fire of passion and transformation.
The cauldron of poetry is lit by the fire of illumination and inspiration.
The hearth is the healing fire of nurture and compassion.
It is this last one, the community hearth fire, which is key. We may not be inspired or challenged at every Unitarian gathering, but I hope that we will always experience the warmth of human community. Our sacred fire is a living flame, lit with intention. Like the first Unitarian chalice symbol, it signifies our intention to care for everyone who passes through our doors, regardless of their beliefs or background.
John O'Donohue, in his book The Four Elements, says,
“The hearth is the place of warmth, belonging and intimacy. This is a powerful metaphor for the spiritual quest, for the hearth is the place where the heart is at home. This is the longing in all spirituality: to come in out of the winter of alienation, self-division and exile and into the hearth of warmth and at-one-ment.”
May the chalice flame of this beloved community be a hearth of warmth and at-one-ment for all. Amen.
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