Christmas Comes

Christmas Comes

Christmas comes every time we see

God in other persons.

The human and the holy meet in Bethlehem

            or in Belfast, Baghdad or Boston,

for Christmas comes like a golden storm on its

way to Jerusalem—

determinedly, inevitably…

Even now it comes

            in the face of hatred and warring—

                        no atrocity too terrible to stop it,

                        no Herod strong enough

                        no hurt deep enough,

                        no curse shocking enough,

                        no disaster shattering enough.

For someone on earth will see the star,

            someone will hear the angel voices

            someone will know peace and goodwill:

            the Christ will be born.

                                                                        ~Ann Weems

Sometimes Christmas seems to come unexpectedly—you’re surrounded by lights and ornaments and Christmas carols for weeks, but you still don’t realize that the day is approaching.  At other times, Christmas seems to come too fast, the day careening toward you, gaining momentum with every expectation and to-do list.  Sometimes, when Christmas comes, it doesn’t feel at all how Christmas should—the right people aren’t around, you’re tired, there’s an emptiness.

But Ann Weems’ poem reminds me that the beautiful thing about Christmas is that it doesn’t depend on me—my feelings or my preparations.  It is a far greater and more glorious thing than that.  The grace of God and the love of God—the things that we remember at Christmas—are here.  God is present and working, despite the fact that people are trying to stop Him, that others aren’t thinking of Him at all, that I don’t feel prepared or equipped. 

And I think the storm is all the more glorious and golden because of it.

Happy Christmas.