When the shepherds came to worship Jesus, Luke 2 says that Mary "treasured all these words and pondered them in heart." We hope you'll do the same with these prayers and poems.
A poem.
I reckon it was the girl,
not more than fourteen. Those eyes.
Something made him stop his talk,
hoist down the lantern and mutter out with them.
And that was one sour night—
dust and wind, things banging;
At its core, the Christmas story is radical. Christ enters the world in the form of a marginalized infant — a story about finding hope amid brokenness by pushing forward into the darkness. We cannot find the true light of Christmas without understanding what it means to be in the dark, opening our eyes to the injustices in our neighborhoods.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommend celebrating the holidays only with the people you live with. In this recommendation, I hear a resigned invitation to make it work with what we have. Let us draw lessons from those who have long had to make it work. And in that, I offer a prayer.
Lighting these candles—porous and buoyant—
Grounds us
Flames draw our eyes to heavens dotted white
With celestial thought
To look back in time through the stars
Hundreds of light-years away
To glimpse God standing
On the shore of God’s self
With outrageous visions and promises
Of hope that strain our belief
What can we do with such promises?
With tradition that grounds us in hope
In stars in candles in souls set alight?
A poem.
In the beginning was the end
and in the end, silence
and the silence is God.
A poem.
Save for the sun, the nearest star
is more than twenty-five million
million miles away.
What has a single star
shining in Bethlehem
to do with us?
