On December 7, 2025, our little fellowship in Casper gathered for a service I had the joy of leading called Lamps of Hope. It was a beautiful morning — a room full of people holding flickering electric candles, singing This Little Light of Mine, and the promise that even in the darkest season of the year, light finds a way.
The heart of the service was an invitation to think about light in three intertwined ways:
1. The inner light — the spark that every wisdom tradition says is already burning inside us, even when we forget it’s there.
2. The guiding light — the people, ancestors, values, and sometimes even divine presences that have walked ahead of us and held their lanterns high so we could find the path.
3. Becoming a lamp unto ourselves — the moment when the inner light and the borrowed light fuse into something we now carry forward for others.
Stewart McAdoo’s reflection on his moral compass, the quotes from Harvey Milk and Dr. King, the small-group story-sharing about real moments when hope broke through — all of it was building toward one simple, hands-on act: making our own small lanterns.
We passed out blank plastic lanterns (more on how those came to be in a moment), markers, washi tape, printed quotes, and lists of quotes, universal values, and spiritual ideas about light. Everyone decorated paper panels with symbols or words that answered three questions:
– What reminds me of my own inner spark?
– What outer lamps have guided me — people, teachers, experiences, values?
– What light do I now choose to carry into the world?
When the battery-powered tea lights went in and the lanterns lit up, the room filled with soft, colorful glows. Some of us were challenged by the fragility of the lanterns, gluing them back together or keeping an imperfect lantern. It’s part of innovation – trying prototypes and remaking with a stronger design (perhaps we will try again next year!).
For me, the service was a reminder that hope is never just a feeling — it’s something we do. We uncover it inside ourselves. We receive it from others. And, if we’re brave, we turn around and become the lamp someone else needs to see by.
A little behind-the-scenes: the 3D-printed lanterns
I knew from the start that I wanted everyone to take home a real, usable lantern — something sturdy enough to hang on a tree or sit on a shelf all season long, but simple enough that the paper panels and candle would do all the talking. Commercial options were either too flimsy or too expensive for thirty-plus people, so I turned to my 3D printer.
It took me four prototypical designs before I decided what I had was good enough, especially since I only had a week left before show time. It took 20+ hours to print the first batch of 6 lanterns, another 20+ for the next batch and about a day and a half for the final batch of ten. If we make many more, it could be worthwhile to explore another fabrication option. Nonetheless, the process brought me joy. There’s nothing quite designing something on the computer and watching it come to life on the 3D printer. I chose PLA filament, because it breaks down faster than many other plastics and can even be composted in an industrial composter.
Printing all those lanterns was an act of hope in itself — they slowly emerged layer by layer in the office. while winter wind howled outside and the little houses of light slowly appeared while we heard the printer’s little wee-woo sounds in our dreams. When they were finally assembled and glowing in people’s hands during the service, every late-night print session felt worth it.
If you’re in a congregation looking for a multigenerational winter service that combines reflection, story, craft, and something people can literally carry into the dark days ahead, I can’t recommend this format enough. Light shared is light multiplied.
Scrooged
Today’s service, titled Humbug!, added another step to our continuous journey of carrying our light into the world. Using Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol as our guide, we pondered who the Tiny Tims in our lives might be. Who do we walk past every day that needs a little help, a smile, or a little light to renew their own hope. Who in our families have we not reached out to? How are we being a little Scrooge-like?
Soul-Stice
Next week, Magdelaine (AKA Megan) will continue in this theme of Pilgrimage of the Heart: Light Rising in the Darkness by guiding us through grounding breathwork, guided meditation, reflection, and ritual to explore the wisdom of the void and the journey of returning to Source. Find out more about the Soul-Stice service on its page (click here).
Find materials from the Lamps of Hope service on its page (click here).
May all our lamps — the ones inside us and the ones we make with our own hands — keep burning brightly.
Yours in shared light,
Cindy Wright
UU Casper