December 24, 2010 § Leave a comment
CHRISTMAS CANDLELIGHT MEDITATIONS, 2005 Written by Sims Kline
Read at the Candlelight Concerts at Elizabeth Hall, Stetson University, December 2-4, 2005
Text I: The Gift
In the beginning, the hard wood of the manger. In the end, the hard wood of the cross. But before the beginning–and after the end–inexpressible grace and power and beauty and love.
Hear now the song of the angels, see now the star in the sky, come now with the kings and the princes and the shepherds and all their flocks.
Give rest to work and worry. Give ear and eye and voice to Him, this Jesus, this infant, this gift.
The gift stands then—and now—a bridge between earth and heaven, between time and eternity.
Glory to Thee, O Lord, Creator Spirit, Trinity of blessed light, risen from the quarter of the sun.
Text II: Advent Journey
Make this advent journey again, experience once more the waiting, the longing, the expectation for His arrival.
The Advent cloaks us in a minor key because soon a fearsome and profound beauty, almost unbearable, is about to be revealed.
And how should we approach this king of kings, who gives Himself to all who would believe?
As the darkness clears away, be still. Expect more than any mortal can know or understand. In awe, be silent. Watch the light descend.
Text III: Blessed, Magnified
Believing, Mary is blessed. Blessed, she is magnified. From lowly estate, she is exalted.
How can one so young, with so little experience of the world, become so wise in a flash of time, a single moment when the divine transforms the mortal?
How can she know so much about holiness and mercy? And how, indeed, can she understand the fate of the proud, the mighty, and the rich?
Believing, she is blessed. Faithful, despite uncertainty and struggle ahead, she is given the fullest portion of grace. She will need it all.
And blessed, Mary is magnified and exalted by God Himself to bear His son.
Rejoicing in the hour of His birth and grieving in the hour of His death, she becomes intercessor for all who believe and for all who want to believe.
Text IV: Res Miranda
Poets, painters, and lovers all are drawn to the res miranda, the wondrous thing, the Rose. This flower, surely the Creator’s calling card, is engraved with heaven and earth, containing both, joining both, a unity.
Terms of the botanist cannot truly describe its contraries: delicate and fragrant; but also sharp and thorny.
Res Miranda, wondrous thing, classified in the division Magnoliophyta, class Magnoliopsida, order Rosales, family Rosaceae.
But more profound than all this nomenclature: the rose can melt a heart; the rose can draw blood.
Gaudeamus, let us rejoice and give thanks for the rose from which the Savior came.
Text V: Invitation
Can you dance?
If you can move your feet, you can dance. If you cannot move your feet, you can dance in your dreams. Everyone can dance.
The Psalmist sings: “Praise him with the timbrel and dance: praise him with stringed instruments and organs.”
The Lord says I am calling “my true love to my dance.”
Who is His true love? We are, all of us are invited by Him to the dance.
This He has done for us, His true love.
It is a heavenly dance, choreographed by angels. You can hear the timbrel in the distance now, calling you.
Can you dance?
Text VI: Mystery
Saint Paul declares how “great is the mystery of godliness.”
According to him, that mystery is revealed thus: “God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory.”
This magnum mysterium began before the manger, many months before, when the angel Gabriel came to Zacharias, then to Mary; and when “the babe leaped” in Elisabeth’s womb.
The mystery is explained by Saint Luke: “with God, nothing shall be impossible.”
Bethlehem’s mystery, the manger mystery, includes the animals witnessing the birth itself. Worldly nature observing divine nature, the creation close before the Creator, who was before the world began.
Text VII: The Beginning
In the beginning, the hard wood of the manger. But before the beginning: inexpressible grace and power and beauty and love.
And in the beginning the Word, the Word of God.
In the beginning were life, light, and the Son of God, the Word incarnate.
The light and the life cannot be conquered by darkness or death.
When made incarnate, another beginning for love: His all-encompassing, all-sufficient love, gleaming in the stable, poured out later on a hillside.
This amazing love flows well beyond Bethlehem.
It flows to all the world. It flows to you.
Text VIII: Lullabies
Two lullabies are sung, first by angels, then by Mary.
Bathed in a golden light, music from heavenly realms lulls the child so softly, so gently, none can hear, save for the babe Himself and the one who cradles Him silently.
The night’s chill is warmed by such music, sent from God the Father to God the Son.
Then Mary’s song calls us to behold the Christ child, quieted now, sleeping.
For so short a time, she will call Him “my Jesus,” knowing He has come for all to declare the very same.
She knows the “little brook” will be living water, a stream whose source is everlasting.
Text IX: Praise
A great cloud of witnesses has praised the Lord: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob; and David, Isaiah, Jeremiah.
When the Lord’s son, the new-born King, is praised, yet more voices are heard, declaring Him to be “wonderful Counselor,” “Lord of Lords,” “King of all nations,” by name–Jesus.
And now another name is given by those who praise Him: “Savior.”
Our voices reach heavenward, given power by His glory. Our hallelujahs rise to His throne. We bless His name, thankful for His mercy and His truth.
Boldly, we “enter into His courts with praise” !
Text X: Mission
He is just a seeker, looking but not finding. Sometimes he is afraid and trembles. Restless, day and night, finally he seeks the Lord. The Lord helps him, the Lord shows him the way.
The way shown to him begins in Bethlehem. He sees the shepherds. They, too, are afraid and tremble because they hear heaven’s host proclaiming the birth, the gift, the Savior.
Amazed by this grace, he is caught up in the angel choir’s praises. Their joy becomes his joy.
To herald this news, good news, he chooses the mountain top. He wants to be heard.
The great proclamation is now his to share, everywhere.
Text XI: Peace
Give us your peace, Lord.
We pray for your peace, but we do not live your peace.
Our frail litanies lack resolve. They are like a sounding brass, a clanging cymbal.
We cannot fully understand your peace, but we can embrace it and clothe ourselves in it. With grace, we can live it.
As in our Advent longing for your Incarnation, we long for your peace in a world of wars and rumors of war.
In our own lives, let your peace overcome fears, divisions, and failures of mercy.
Near the heart of your peace we can expect to find selflessness and sacrifice.
Nearer still we can see the brightness of a life given for others, a life which began in your heavenly light.
Give us your peace, Lord.
Give us your peace.
Text XII: The Work of Christmas by Howard Thurman
When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star up in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
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 brothers,
To make music in the heart.
—- Contributed by Sims Kline