I have nothing against Daylight Savings Time. I grew up with it; I’m accustomed to it. It was weird when we moved to Indiana and didn’t have it; it felt like a return to normal, in some respects, when Indiana adopted it.
That said, if full daylight is streaming through the windows, it robs the moment of much of its power when, in the Divine Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, right before the second epistle reading when the priest holds up the candle in what is supposed to be a darkened church and intones, “The Light of Christ illumines all!” I suppose it also doesn’t help that Great Lent started a bit late this year.
It’s one of these practical considerations that’s easier to see when the intended conditions aren’t there — much how like “O gladsome light” was originally intended to accompany the physical action of lighting candles and lamps, an event now replaced in most parishes by the flipping of a light switch, it would seem. I’m not sure what you do about these things; in the former case, sunset is now late enough in the day to make it impractical to schedule services by it, and in the latter case, somebody seriously suggesting that a church go wholesale back to candles and oil lamps instead of electric light would, I’m certain, be laughed out of the building.