Contra Plastic Candles

Several years ago, before becoming the pastor of the church I currently serve, a switch was made that I have always been uncomfortable with: the church moved from wax to plastic candles. The reason for the change was a concern about the potential fire. Many felt that the risk was too great in our old, historical building. At first, I shrugged, ignored the sense of discomfort, and lived with the change. However, over the last few years, I have grown increasingly uncomfortable with this decision, and after working through why, I have concluded that plastic candles are deeply problematic. Here’s why.

The Problem with Plastic Candles

Real vs. Plastic: We live in a culture where much is characterized by the insubstantial, fake, and plastic. Real candles remind us that we live in an embodied reality. There is a real flame, real wax, real heat. The nature of reality vs unreality is something deeply felt. Plastic candles have a discarnate and desacralized nature. To use them is to find that they are as spiritually satisfying as Covid communion kits. We are living in a cultural moment where people are yearning for roots and reality. Few things are less fulfilling and less powerful than a plastic candle. As one writer put it, “the flameless candle preaches a gospel of irrelevance.” He goes on to say that the simple flipping of the switch extinguishes the profound symbolic value of the real candle, and points out that the flameless candle communicates nothing significant in the flame, the material, or the passing of the flame from one candle to another.

Touching candles up and down the aisle feels empty and unsatisfying because, at the end of the day, you know that you’re only pretending to do something. In a culture where many find themselves hungry for an encounter with roots and reality, craving something deeply meaningful, we should provide something real and substantive, not plastic substitutes.

Symbols Matter: When I think about the choice to move to plastic candles, I find myself considering sacraments. As Augustine put it, sacrements are: “visible signs of God’s invisible grace,” and they are often spoken of as a “means of grace.” The Westminster Confession of Faith states that “Sacraments are holy signs and seals of the covenant of grace, immediately instituted by God, to represent Christ and his benefits; and to confirm our interest in him.” The Savoy Declaration similarly echoes that statement. Both make clear that sacraments are signs and symbols that represent deeper realities. Through them, we are spiritually fed, and the church catechizes its members. There is an analogical relationship. To be clear, the candles are not sacraments, and they do not feed us spiritually. But they do speak about the nature of reality and symbolically catechize. Plastic candles catechize in all the wrong ways.

Cutting Ourselves Off from Our Patrimony: This is something Christians do. For centuries, Christians have been lighting candles on Christmas Eve to celebrate the coming of the Light of the World, who came to dwell among us, and we are failing to pass on distinctively Christian practices that have been handed down to us. In a culture that has been tearing down the symbolic for so long, this is something that we can easily miss. But we must not forget that, as Robert Louis Wilken makes clear in his article, “The Church as Culture,” Christianity creates institutions and practices that are distinctively Christian, and we should engage in distinctively Christian practices that announce the presence of another city and culture. We should not lose hold of one more piece of what was once a distinctively Christian culture. We should do what Christians have done for centuries. Light candles and joyfully celebrate the coming of our Christ, the Light of the World.

A Missional Failure: The reality is that even the non-churched know that this is something Christians do. They come with an expectation of real candles, real flame, and real symbolism, and even if they don’t understand that symbolism, they hunger for it. We’re failing to meet the expectations and desires when we move to plastic.

Impact on the Sense of Community. A sense of community is created by the passing of the flame from person to person, as the light spreads across the room or space. You feel, in a real sense, that you are doing something together, and you are drawn together as you draw near to Christ.

A Lost Symbol of Proclamation: The passing of the flame from one person to another symbolizes the spread of the gospel from one person to another. Plastic candles do not accomplish this. With plastic candles, you flick your own switch, completely apart from others.

Neglecting to Create Beauty: In a world shorn of beauty, there is something beautiful about a room or space or even a group of saints standing outside in a place lit by real candles. Plastic candles do not create the same effect. 

Losing an Experience of Transcendence: This is perhaps the most important reason of all and not something I have a logical argument for per se; it’s just an experiential reality. Let me start by saying that I do not believe that the presence of Christ is any less when real candles are lit on Christmas Eve than when plastic candles are. Scripture states that God’s presence is no less real when we are in the depths of the ocean or at the top of a mountain. Wherever we go, He’s there. That said, it is more experientially palpable. It can be sensed differently. This was solidified for me last year as I reflected on going to two Christmas services, one with plastic candles, one with real. There was a palpable difference. I can’t say that Christ was any less present, but His presence was experientially different. I knew that to be true even if logic told me that there should be no difference. I think that in a culture that is stripped of encounters with the transcendent presence of God and yet longing to encounter God’s transcendent presence and longing for spiritual reality, we should not be stripping away those opportunities from our members or from those who would come looking to meet the transcendent creator of the universe experientially and truly.

Moving Forward

Given the issues around plastic candles and what is communicated around them, we needed to do something different. The fact is, on the scale of good, better, best, given the problematic symbolism that comes with plastic candles, having no candles is better than plastic. We needed to make a change. So, what did we do at the church I serve? After a few days of conversation with the head of the trustees, at his suggestion, we changed the end of the service. Rather than using plastic candles, as we neared the end of the Christmas Eve service, we processed out of the sanctuary, lit real candles outside, sang Silent Night, heard the benediction, and closed the service properly.

Did we have to do it that way? No. The reality is that there is no mandate to use plastic candles inside our church buildings. As I learned by meeting with the Fire Marshal of my community and doing additional research, with appropriate safeguards, it is acceptable. Legally, the codes don’t require plastic candles. States and towns usually have carveouts to fire codes for churches for real candles in religious services, and when they don’t, they usually end up losing in court. Beyond this, when you start doing research, you find that while it seems inherently risky, statistically, the risk is minimal.  Of the 1600 religious property fires in the United States, most are caused by cooking, heating, or electrical equipment, not candles. The probability of a candle setting a religious property on fire in any given year is about 1 in 5000, or .0002%. To be clear, no church should be cavalier about Christmas Eve candles. But, to quote one insurance company’s counsel, “Taking simple precautions can ensure that candles are a safe part of religious ceremonies. The reality is that hundreds of thousands of churches have candlelit Christmas Eve Services without problems each year. 

On the other side, the leadership made a decision that needed to be respected either by abiding by it or repealing it through the proper channels. To be a pastor is not to be the sole potentate but a man under authority and part of a cohesive system, and as of now, the church’s leadership hasn’t taken the issue up. Furthermore, the head of the trustees of the church I serve is a longtime firefighter. I’m certain he’s seen the 1-in-5000 type situations, and so out of years of experience, he’s deeply concerned about real candles inside. I also know that the risks do exist. Our pews are close together, and I had one senior saint tell me that she once singed someone’s hair. It’s not without risks.

So, for all these reasons, at this time, we go outside. I’m telling people for the next season, they should expect that this will be the norm. – to come to the Christmas Eve service, bring a friend or two, and be ready to, at the end of the service, put on a jacket, process out, and end the service properly with candles and flames as we hail the coming of the light of the world.

Final Thoughts

To the critics of going outside, I will say that I do understand that it is disruptive to the flow of the service, and that it means that we can’t do certain things, like doing special instrumental pieces during Silent Night. Those can be beautiful, and being unable to do them is a loss. But in the end, symbols matter, and real things matter. If you doubt this, ask yourself why most people hate it when our flag is burned. The fact is, while much of our culture has lost sight of the fact that symbols matter, we must not. So, for the time being, we’re going outside, lighting the candles in the dark, and singing to our King.

Before I end, I have one last thought for those who haven’t stopped using real candles. To you, my counsel is simple: Put a plan in place to take all the necessary precautions, including plenty of people armed with fire extinguishers, and do what churches have done for so long. Do your best to do all that you can to never, ever move to plastic candles. If you make the change, you will eventually come to realize that you’ve lost something, and then it may be too late to reverse without a measure of messiness.

Photo Credit: Unsplash