from Amazing Peace: A Christmas Poem

In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.

At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.

We listen carefully as it gathers strength.

We hear a sweetness.

The word is Peace.

It is loud now. It is louder.

Louder than the explosion of bombs.

We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.

It is what we have hungered for.

Not just the absence of war. But, true Peace.

A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.

Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.
We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.

We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.

We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.

Peace.

[Maya Angelou]

from Pastor Brooke Willson:

In this season of Advent,
I encourage you to step out back some cold and starlit night,
Go visit your barn -
the place where you keep the forgotten debris of your life.
Far away from the lights, and the presents,
and the endless rounds of parties;
out in the silence of the barn,
among the simple creature of the earth
who can hear heavenly music when we can't.

You just might here a baby cry.

If the cry sounds familiar,
it may be because it's the child in you,
asking to be fed,
to be cuddled,
to be rocked to sleep,
to be sung to by the One who loves you more than life.

If you hear the baby cry,
then Advent will have happened
despite all the forces arrayed against it.
We worship a persistent and sneaky God,
who shows up despite our best efforts to keep him out.
Thank God.