The Fire Within Part 7

July 13, 2026

The Fire Within Part 7

We love having dinner by candlelight, and I love it when Lark burns scented candles around the house. In church, I love the candles burning brightly upon the altar. As a boy, I was an acolyte in our church and in every procession, carried the brass candlelighter that carried the flame. We transferred the flame to the large brass candlesticks on the altar. The flame was passed from one place to another, yet nothing was lost.

Years later, as a father, I sat through many worship services watching my son Ben and daughter Lauren serve as acolytes. They processed, stood beside the Bible during the reading of the Gospel, and held their torches high. They carried the same light I had carried at their age. The same flame. 

My spiritual director and dear friend, the Rev. Ron Delbene, always lit a candle before our meetings. It sat on the coffee table beside a fresh sprig from his garden. Together the candle and sprig represented the elements of creation—fire, air, earth, and water. The candle brought warmth and light into the room, but it also seemed to bring something deeper into our conversations: an awareness of sacred presence. 

The more I reflect on a candle and its flame, the more I see it as the divine fire of life itself. It is something immense contained within something small. The same force that blazes in volcanoes, bonfires, and towering infernos burns silently in a simple candle on a table. The fire is no less magnificent when it is small. It is simply closer, more intimate, more personal.

At age thirteen at church camp, I first experienced the power of many small flames joined together. One starry evening, we junior high campers gathered beside the lake for an evening service. At each evening service, we would sing at lakeside in the glimmer of the large lighted cross at the other side of the lake.  But this night would be different. Each of us received a small candle secured in a paper cupcake holder. At the close of the service, we passed the light, each person igniting the candle of the person beside them.

Then something unexpected happened: we were invited to walk to the water's edge. A rowboat waited there with a large plywood board stretched across its bow. We each placed our lighted candle in the cupcake holder onto the board. In the silence of the night, the boat slowly moved across the dark blue lake. All we could hear was the gentle splash of the oars. Once in the middle of the lake, a person in the boat lifted the candles and one-by-one, set them afloat. 

Soon, the lake was filled with brilliant points of light. The candles drifted across the lake’s dark blue surface, reflecting the stars above. It was impossible to tell which candle belonged to whom.

Then the service leader spoke words I have never forgotten:

"You may not know which candle is yours, but you can see the beauty of all of us together as lights of the world."

My thirteen-year-old self could hardly believe the sight before me. Heaven seemed to be reflected in the water. The stars above and the candles below became one great field of light.

Perhaps that is what the fire within us is meant to do. We often spend our lives trying to protect our own small flame, worrying whether it is bright enough, important enough, or noticed enough. Yet the purpose of the flame is not merely to burn for itself. Its purpose is to combine with others’ lights to light the world.

Love is like that. So is faith. So is kindness. So is the Divine within us— the Divine fire from whom we are created.  

The fire passes from person to person, heart to heart, generation to generation. No one loses anything by giving it away. In fact, the more it is shared, the brighter the world becomes.

And in the end, perhaps it matters less which light is ours than that together we illuminate the darkness.

Spiritual Practice

Light a candle with the intention of allowing it to speak to you in some way about the fire of your being. What do you feel the candle is conveying?

Inquiry

What is an instance of how your fire combining with the fire of others makes something wonderful happen?

Prayer

Dear God, 

I realize that none of the living daylights would exist if it were not for the fire of the earth, the fire of the sun and stars, and the fire of your love. I am so grateful.

Amen