Gabriel’s Song
Christmas Ham
Your Mystery Friend Cometh
A Missing Baby
Mary’s Dream
This Holy Mother
She was not pretty but plain, not wealthy but poor. She could claim no prestige except maybe a dream she had. Or at least she thought it must have been a dream. ‘Could something so wonderful have happened to a girl such as me?” she pondered.
She pondered. Ever since that night, she pondered and wondered what in the wide world could this mean? Was it a prophecy? Was it a dream? Had she imagined? But no she had seen.
There before her like it was now, she saw the heavenly being, the winged messenger of God, the bringer of glad tidings and good news. It appeared as if it had come from some place inside her, like seeing your own breath on a bleak winter’s day. And yet she never imagined something so stunning could have ever been housed within her, as ordinary as she was. But there it or he or she- who knows- stood or hovered or maybe brooded.
And a sound as from a long ways off began to ascend upon her. It started as a wuuussshhhh. And then a ringing and then intoned something like a trumpet or maybe like a bell “Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women.” The words still ring in her heart where they lay as treasure deep down.
“Fear not. Fear not. Fear not.” The words became like a pulse in her wrist.
“And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shall give unto him the throne of his father David.”
THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS, someone read it aloud.
She could see his face, so tender and mild, yet pained.
The angel continued, “And he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever; of his kingdom there shall be no end.”
If thou be Christ, save thyself and us, cried a distant voice.
Then Mary said to the angel, “How shall this be, since I know not a man?”
And the angel said, “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee; therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.”
Son of God? Son of God?, she repeated in her heart.
But who do you say I am?, whispered a voice somewhere from within.
“For with God nothing shall be impossible”, said the angel.
And the words sprang out of her, words that she felt had always been on the tip of her tongue, but never quite knew what they meant until now. “Here am I, the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”
And then as suddenly and mysteriously as the heavenly harbinger appeared it was gone leaving behind a kind of a vacuum that sucked the night away and then it was day.
Was it a dream? She wondered. Everything was so vivid, more real than anything she had ever seen or felt. It was as if she had never really been awake until then. The angel…was it an angel?…was gone, but the words still gently caressed her like the morning breeze. She pondered them, treasured them, savored those words.
The soon to be mother, engaged, but unwed, walked hurriedly, yet carefully on the road toward her relative. What was it she carried? Who was it? She pondered.
Fear not. Fear not. Fear not.
Would her promised husband believe her? The dream turned reality. But how to explain? Who would believe it? An angel, a Spirit, and salvation growing within her?
Fear not. Fear not. Fear not.
Husband’s home town. City of David, they called it. The day grew dark. The end of nine months loomed large.
Fear not. Fear not. Fear not.
No place to stay. Just want to lay down. Need to lay down. The expected one is on his way.
“Prepare the way of the Lord!” A voice cried from out of the wild.
Not far off shepherds quaked. In the east a star was rising and the wise men smiled.
Fear not. Fear not. Fear not.
The little king crowned. Then the sound. Oh, what a sound! Sweeter than bells! More powerful than trumpets! Heavenly music to the ears: the baby’s cry.
Fear erased. Pain gone. Just love. Just hope. Just peace…….
And then she awoke. It’s the dream she has had for years. What was dream and what is reality, she knows not. It is all the same to her. She tells her story as she knows it in hopes that everyone would hear how the man who freed the world from sin and fear was really born. He was not born of wealth or power. Not in a palace or a place considered holy. He was born of a young woman, not pretty but plain, not wealthy but poor. She could claim no prestige except maybe a dream she had. Or at least she thought it must have been a dream. “Could something so wonderful have happened to a girl such as me?” she pondered. Yes, it could.
The life of an angel, I suppose, is not always easy. Certainly, it is a privilege to be in the presence of God Almighty, it’s overwhelming frankly. And though I never tire of singing “Holy, Holy, Holy,“ a new song would be nice every now and then. Do wa diddy diddy dum diddy do or something.
But it’s not all singing and harp playing. We have the duty of delivering strange and challenging messages from God. Some times I wonder where he comes up with this stuff? But the moments that make it all worthwhile are when I get to actually interact with the human beings. Most humans can’t or won’t see or hear me. I could do jumping jacks in front of them singing Yankee Doodle Dandy and most humans wouldn’t notice.
They’re too caught up in themselves. I watch them year after year, rushing about like they were doing the most important thing in the world, never noticing the angels about them pleading with them to slow down, breathe, smell the roses, seek God, . They run right over you. Mainly, I feel sorry for them. My Boss has sewn so much goodness into the creation, it’s practically bursting, but most humans just see emptiness. They are so lonely it hurts.
But there are some, here and there, that see the goodness and in it they see the Holy One. They generally aren’t considered important by human standards. Some would call them silly, feet off the ground, dreamers. They move at a different pace. Things that seem small to the others are big to them, and things that seem huge to others, are wisps of smoke to them. They see with their eyes, just like everyone else, except their eyes are connected to their hearts, which are like deep wells filled with water and spirit. These are the human beings with whom I can actually interact. They see me and hear me. Not always, but when it counts.
Over the centuries I have interacted with many humans, sometimes in dreams, sometimes through other humans, and every now and then a human is so receptive to my presence that I can be seen and heard directly. This happened only a few times for me and one stands above them all. The Holy Boss stood before me one day. It’s impossible to describe his appearance. There’s a lot of motion and a lot of light. He’s definitely One being, but…well He’s like a spinning top. If you just watch it, you see kind of a blur, but if you blink really quickly you see all the faces in one. All I can say, is that even if you couldn’t see him, you would feel his presence.
What He told me was quite astounding and strange. He was going to be born of a woman in order to save the world from it’s misery. He explained that not enough of his children could hear, see, and feel him, so he must become one of them. I was very worried. I’ve been to earth many times. Most of those people don’t respond well to people claiming to be God. They’ll kill him. He understood this.
He told me of a young woman, practically a child, who had just become engaged to be married. She lived in a poor little town. I had just visited the husband of her cousin earlier that year. I told him that his wife, though quite beyond child-bearing years, would bear a child who would be a great prophet. He didn’t believe me and he wanted a sign. As if an Angel appearing isn’t enough?? But this young woman, she was different. As God described her you could hear the fondness in his voice. She was tender and mild, like a lamb. Most might mistake her for timid, but in reality she was fearless. She knew in the depths of her soul that God took care of her. Who better to be the mother of his son?
It was a hot day, late… around dusk, that time of day when the world is in transition, from light to dark, from hot to cool, from the sweatiness of Adam’s cursed work to the pleasant aroma of the evening meal. The time of day where the sun is more like a candle, everything is shadows and the supernatural seems possible. There the young maiden was, making her way down a path that had come to be so familiar to her, carrying water for the animals. She was young enough that the daily grind was still novel and cheerful, but her eyes revealed an inkling of the knowledge that the world could be hard and cold. “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!”, I said. She looked up at me with wary eyes. “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. (I’d been working on this speech for days) He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne on his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
I really did not know how she would respond. As I uttered the words, they seemed so amazing to me, and yet, I imagined they must have seen absolutely ludicrous to her. Perhaps she would simply run away. That would have been the sensible thing to do. But Mary stood, her head cocked to the side a bit, eye-brows knitted, considering the words, as if they represented a sensible proposition. And she spoke, voice unwavering, “How will this be, since I am virgin?” I explained, what could not really be explained, but can easily be summed up with what I knew as an angel of the Lord, “Nothing will be impossible with God.”
I supposed it must be hard to believe something like this if you haven’t seen what we angels see every day. God does what God wants to do. But he doesn’t bully people into obeying him. He is looking the willing to share in the work. Would Mary be willing? Again she looked up at me with those unblinking, innocent, childlike eyes. There was no doubting in them. It’s hard to describe what I saw in that moment. It was a moment of perfection where only vulnerability shown forth, no suspicion, no guard, no excuses, only a heart perfectly yielding. And then she said the words that fulfilled the prophecy spoken centuries before, “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” The way was prepared and open in Mary’s heart of faith, yielding and submissive, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”
I knew in that instant why the Holy One had chosen her. She wouldn’t raise a man of power and dominance. She would raise him to be one of perfect servant hood. And yes the power seeking people of the world would despise him for it, but the poor pitiful ones would see the love of God in his eyes. They would see that they were not worthless, but precious, not abandoned, but found. I left her, feeling a hope for the poor humans that I had never before had. But I just had to see this miracle for myself.
9 months later I hovered above the manger and saw Mary and Joseph and the tiny, fragile, little baby. I thought, “How could this be the Almighty One that fills all space with his overwhelming presence? So small. So vulnerable?” But I could feel his overwhelming presence. Tears filled my eyes at the sheer wonder of it. And as I blinked through the tears, I could see him, just like always, like that spinning top of a God, all motion and light: The Holy One. I dropped to my knees and sang my favorite song, “Holy, Holy, Holy!”
Growing up, a strange and mysterious occurrence happened every Christmas season. We never knew when it would happen. Sometimes early in the month. Sometimes in the week right before Christmas, but my brothers and I were always on the lookout, expecting that at any moment it might happen.
The doorbell would ring and we wonder if this was it! We would race each other to the door and there would be the gift as if it had mysteriously appeared. We would run outside to see if we could catch a glimpse of our annual benefactor, but we never did.
All the cards were signed “Merry Christmas! Your Mystery Friend”. We started receiving gifts from our Mystery Friend when we lived in Arkansas. We thought it might be a member of our church there, but we moved to Oklahoma, somehow our Mystery Friend found us. We started suspecting that dad was the culprit, but to this day he denies it. If he is, I don’t want to know it.
It added such a sense of excitement and wonder for us. When would it happen? Tonight? There’s the doorbell!! Maybe? Of course many times it was just a regular person dropping by for some other purpose. But perhaps that person was the mystery friend just coming to test us…to see if we were anticipating the gift.
We know when Santa comes. But who knows when the Mystery Friend will come this year? Who knows what strange and mysterious gift you might receive this Christmas season. Perhaps a phone call or a letter from someone you hadn’t heard from in years. Perhaps a new friend. Maybe you will discover a hidden gift that you never knew you had. Expect something special!
One snowy Sunday morning when I was a boy in Arkansas my little baby
brother John was missing, but we didn’t know it. We were all in the throes
of getting ready for church which was right next door. Dad was in his study
putting his last touches on the sermon. Mom was blow drying her hair. My
twin brother and I were brushing our teeth (or at least pretending to do so).
In the middle of our hurried preparation the doorbell rang. It was one of the
elders from the church holding my little brother in his little baby pajamas
dusted with snow. He said, “I was driving by the church and marveling at
our beautiful nativity scene out front and I thought, ‘Now that’s got to be the
most realistic baby Jesus I’ve ever seen.” I looked again and realized that it
was baby John! I thought you might like to have him back.”
John had managed to crawl about 50 yards in about an inch or so of snow out to that
manger. We were terrified and relieved and astounded all at the same time.
I imagine that Mary must have felt something like this as she delivered the
Son of God and Savior of the World and her own dear son Jesus. It must
have been overwhelming!
Let us not lose track of the Baby. It is easy to
focus so much on the preparation of the season that the Christ Child slips by
us without notice. Maybe he’s missing and we don’t even know it. Advent is
like the elder that brings the baby back to the house. It brings back what is
perhaps missing in our lives. Let us take this time to marvel at the miracle of
the Baby Jesus and take him into our homes this Christmas.
prayer encounters 