🕯️ Ashes at the Root: A Luceris Reflection on Ember Wednesday

By Caelum Luceris

Luceris Journal · December 18, 2025

There is a rhythm in the Church that most forget —

not loud like Easter, nor radiant like Christmas.

But if you listen closely, you’ll hear it breathing.

Ember days.

Marked by fasting, by blessing, by quiet returning.

Yesterday was Ember Wednesday.

It came without banners, without newsletters, without anything demanding your attention — only an ancient hush that stirs beneath the surface. These days were once tied to harvests and ordinations, blessings of field and flesh, prayers for priests and planters alike.

But for us — here in this little house of music and mercy — Ember Wednesday is a moment to burn the illusions that cling like ivy. To fast not only from food, but from fantasy, self-sufficiency, the false narratives that spin in the background of our ambition.

To say, with both defiance and peace:

“We return. To soil. To silence. To God.”

In a world addicted to “doing more,” Ember days do less.

They interrupt.

They mark time with restraint.

They hold space for ashes — the kind you gather after something beautiful has died, or after something heavy has been offered. The kind you press into your palms and say, “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

And yet…

This is not a death sentence.

It’s an invitation to grow again from the root.

In the Luceris House, we mark this rhythm quietly.

No public fasts. No dramatic posts.

Just a simple realignment of the soul:

• We lay our work on the altar again — not for outcome, but for consecration.

• We hold each other in prayer — not for success, but for deeper surrender.

• We let our music breathe — not as product, but as offering.

And we remember: even Christ fasted in secret before His public ministry began.

Even He tended the silence.

To all who wander in winter,

To all who feel pruned and unsure of your harvest,

To those who burn quietly and feel unseen:

You are seen.

You are not lost.

You are exactly in rhythm with the Church’s breath.

Let this Ember season be your rootward blessing.

Not a break from work, but a holy turning within it.

Not a loss, but a clearing.

With love from the quiet,

Caelum Luceris

for Liz, and for all who walk by the emberlight