The Real Work of Christmas

This is my favorite "post-Christmas" poem ...

When the song of the angel is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the Kings and Princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,               The real work of Christmas begins.

To find the lost
To heal the broken
To feed the hungry
To release the prisoners
To rebuild the nations
To bring peace among brothers
To make music in the heart.

The author, Howard Thurman (1899-1981), was an ordained Baptist minister and influential author, philosopher, and educator. He was Dean of Theology and of the chapels at Howard University and Boston University for more than two decades, and he wrote 20 books.  The best-known of these, Jesus and the Disinherited (1949), deeply influenced Martin Luther King, Jr. and other civil rights leaders, both black and white.  In 1944, Thurman and a white pastor, Alfred Fisk, were the founding co-pastors of the first racially integrated, multicultural church in the United States, the Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples.

O Christmas Tree (and other trees, as well)

THE TREE
by Madeleine L'Engle

The children say the tree must reach the ceiling,
And so it does, angel on topmost branch,
Candy canes and golden globes and silver chains,
Trumpets that toot, and birds with feathered tails.
Each year we say, each year we fully mean:
"This is the loveliest tree of all." This tree
Bedecked with love and tinsel reaches heaven.
A pagan throwback may have brought it here
Into our room, and yet these decked-out boughs
Can represent those other trees, the one
Through which we fell in pride, when Eve forgot
That freedom is man's freedom to obey
And to adore, not to replace the light
With disobedient darkness and self-will.
On Twelfth Night when we strip the tree
And see its branches bare and winter cold
Outside the comfortable room, the tree
Is then the tree on which all darkness hanged,
Completing the betrayal that began
With that first stolen fruit. And then, O God,
This is the tree that Simon bore uphill,
This is the tree that held all love and life.
Forgive us, Lord, forgive us for that tree.
But now, still decked, adorned, in joy arrayed
For these gread days of Christmas thanks and song,
This is the tree that lights our faltering way,
For when man's first and proud rebellious act
Had reached its nadir on that hill of skulls
These shining, glimmering boughs remind us that
The knowledge that we stole was freely given
And we were sent the Spirit's radiant strength
That we might know all things. We grasp for truth
And lose it till it comes to us by love.
The glory of Lebanon shines on this Christmas tree,
The tree of life that opens wide the gates.
The children say the tree must reach the ceiling,
And so it does: for me the tree has grown so high
It pierces through the vast and star-filled sky.

from "A Widening Light: Poems of the Incarnation"
Luci Shaw, editor

"Breath of Heaven" with video from "The Nativity Story"

A Prayer for "Joy"

The key word for the third week of Advent is joy.  But whenever I hear the word "joy," I think immediately of my daughter, Tish, whose name means "joy" or "delight."  And because she was killed in an accident in 2002 and and her birthday coincides with this week of Advent, for me it is a week filled with emotional conflict.

This year was no different.  On the one hand, I am deeply grateful for the 21 years we shared with her here on this earth.  She taught me more than any other person what it meant to be full of joy and to bless others with your laughter.  On the other hand, I still miss her terribly and can't help but wonder what she would have been doing as she turned 30.

Jesus said, "I have told you these things so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete" (John 15:11).  What things?  About how he is the vine, and we are the branches (15:1-8).  About how if we obey his commands, we will learn how to abide in his love (15:10) and to have our joy completed.

And I'm still learning how to do that. 

Father, help me to learn the "lessons of Jesus" so that I may become a joy-filled person who brings joy to others.  Remind me of Jesus' promise, 'Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy' (16:22), and help me to apply that to both Jesus and Tish.  For surely in this life, none of us gets exactly what we want, but we receive a taste of the "life to come" where your glory radiates unending joy.  Thank you for the Joy you have given to me -- in Jesus . . . and in Tish.  Amen.