Tag Archives: Christmas

Howard Thurman’s When the Song of the Angels is Stilled

When the song of the angels 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 work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,

To heal the broken,

To feed the hungry,

To release the prisoner,

To rebuild the nations,

To bring peace among the people,

To make music in the heart.

Advertisements

A Thanksgiving prayer at Christmastime

See the source imageGod in the flesh, Christ- Child, mysterious majesty, today we remember the wonder of Your birth.   We lower our gaze to look at God face- to- face. The beginning meets our start.  This is the heart of the gospel.

Because God has come to the lowly, to and through the least likely.  What manner of God is this?  What deity would do such a thing?  Thank You for turning our world upside down and turning our idea of power on its head.

It is my prayer that You might give us the peace to make room for You today.  For You are going door to door, heart to heart and head to head.  This is a continual fight against darkness.  Oh, let there be light in us.

And might You find a resting place, a hiding place, a place to come forth in our lives.  Let your manger be our heart this Christmas.  Amen.

When God comes to town

See the source imageGod is not a superhero.  Cape exchanged for swaddling clothes, he does give us the image of strength.  He cannot leap over tall buildings.  His parents can’t even find a place to give birth to him.

He will cry out for help before the crowds do.  He will not be waving, taking pictures and signing autographs.  He will not be kissing babies– because he is one.  He will need to be held while we sing, “He’s got the whole world in his hands.”

Our praise doubles as a lullaby.  This is the God who can be sung to sleep, who gets fussy without a nap.

But, what kind of God is this?  What kind of God does this?  Using a woman instead a phone booth.  No gadgets, no fancy car. Just her swollen feet, Jesus travels by way of a waddling woman.  He does not make an entrance but instead, waits to be born.

He is not faster than a locomotive and he cannot stop one if you find yourself tied to the tracks.  Many complained that he could not stop the Roman Empire.  He is not who they expected, not who they’d hoped for.  When they thought of the Savior, he is not who they had in mind.  “There must be some mistake.  Let us look for another.”

No x- ray vision, the self- proclaimed “light of the world” will squint when he enters it.  And people will not see him coming.  Because when God comes to town, God is not aiming to merely save the day– but the world.