Connections

There were 33 years between the First Christmas and the First Easter.

We talked last night, around a table filled with good food and friendships, of how so often we underestimate the connection between the two. And how many moderns, post-moderns, millennials, whatever…don’t even realise there is a connection at all.

The donkey knew…

What the Donkey Saw

No room in the inn, of course,

And not that much in the stable,

What with the shepherds, Magi, Mary,

Joseph, the heavenly host –

Not to mention the baby

Using our manger as a cot.

You couldn’t have squeezed another cherub in

For love or money.

Still in spite of the overcrowding,

I did my best to make them feel wanted.

I could see the baby and I

Would be going places together.

 

U.A.Fanthorpe*

 

 

*Ursula Askham Fanthorpe, CBE, FRSL (22 July 1929 – 28 April 2009) was an English poet. She published under the form U. A. Fanthorpe.

Waiting

A young star takes centre stage

A Presbyterian Blessing

In hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.

                    *

Limited by mortality

yet destined for liberation,

in hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.

*

Groaning as if in childbirth,

sampling the fruits of God’s harvest

in hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.

*

Trusting in what is unseen,

believing the best is yet to come,

in hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.

*

In the wilderness of a stable,

where the Maker of All will be born,

in hope the universe waits;

God’s purpose shall be revealed.

 

 

 

 

Photo: By ESA/Hubble, <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0&#8243; title=”Creative Commons Attribution 4.0″>CC BY 4.0</a>, <a href=”https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38696354″>Link</a&gt;

Bells

In these uncertain days, and the midst of our Christmas preparations, I have pondered the awfulness of warfare.

Our Minister of Foreign Affairs, renowned for his ability to put his foot in it, lately made an outburst against Saudi Arabia for its meddling in the Middle East. He got his hand smacked by the PM because they are also major allies.

We, as a nation, have major sales contracts for weapons with that nation. We are also being asked to send money for aid agencies to spend in Yemen. A country in which our home manufactured weapons are daily raining down upon causing great suffering! So, a rather disingenuous outburst even for him…

Celtic Christianity understood that justice was implicit within faith. And I long for righteousness to reign down, with mercy, upon us as a nation. So I call him out on this outrage. Not in hope that he’ll listen to me but as an act of faith that ultimately all will be well.

Some will call that pathetic, conscience salving mumbo-jumbo.

But as we wait for the silent miracle of Christmas, I remember one of His names is Prince of Peace.

Here is a poem that echoes my thoughts…

 

Christmas Bells

I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of ‘Peace on earth, good will to men!’

 

And thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song,

Of ‘Peace on earth, good will to men!’

 

Till ringing, singing on its way

the world revolved from night to day –

A voice, a chime

A chant sublime

Of ‘Peace on earth, good will to men!’

 

And in despair I bowed my head;

‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said,

‘For hate is strong

And mocks the song

of peace on earth, good will to men!’

 

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

‘God is not dead; not doth he sleep!

The wrong shall fail,

The right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men!’

 

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow