94 Now the Heavens Start to Whisper
Now the heavens start to whisper, as the veil is growing thin.
Earth from slumber wakes to listen to the stirring, faint within:
Seed of promise, deeply planted, child to spring from Jesse’s stem!
Like the soil beneath the frost-line, hearts grow soft to welcome him.
Heavy clouds that block the moonlight now begin to drift away.
Diamond brilliance through the darkness shines the hope of coming day.
Christ, the morning star of splendor, gleams within a world grown dim.
Heaven’s ember fans to fullness; hearts grow warm to welcome him.
Christ, eternal Sun of justice, Christ, the rose of wisdom’s seed,
Come to bless with fire and fragrance hours of yearning, hurt, and need.
In the lonely, in the stranger, in the outcast, hid from view:
Child who comes to grace the manger, teach our hearts to welcome you.
Devotion
It has begun to turn cold. Both earth and water begin to feel more like stone beneath one’s foot in the heart of Winter. And yet, there is a profound beauty in Winter. Nights so clear and crisp they take your breath away. A night sky of utter darkness except that it is pierced by brilliant stars everywhere. The daytime sky is cobalt blue, and both of these stretch heavenward bringing one to wonder about the vast expanse of God’s creation.
The heavens do seem to be whispering to me of late. Intimating that there is good news of great joy soon to come. Mary and Joseph were approaching the good news of great joy, surrounding the child that was almost due. The birth of any child is a wonder and a miracle, and they must have entered the final weeks before Jesus’ birth full of hope, and worry, and wonder too, I imagine.
The gospels don’t give us much information about the personalities of Mary and Joseph. We are left to fill in the gaps of the few hints we are given. I don’t know why, but in my imagination, I have always thought of Joseph as a kind, but taciturn man – not prone to public displays of emotion. Mary, in my imagination, is a contemplative – someone who is able to hold things in her heart and ponder them. So, I think of Mary and Joseph, who in my imagination are both quiet people, making their way toward the birth in silence.
Thomas Merton writes of silence: “The purest faith has to be tested by silence in which we listen for the unexpected, in which we are open to what we do not yet know, and in which we slowly and gradually prepare for the day when we will reach out to a new level of being with God. True hope is tested by silence in which we have to wait on the Lord in the obedience of unquestioning faith.” [p.76 Essential Writings]
These weeks before Christmas are a good time to let the Winter weather lead us to times of contemplation and silent reflection. We are trying to break through the hard exterior of our hearts and find something pliable and capable of transformation within. The hymn reads, “Like the soil beneath the frostline, hearts grow soft to welcome him.”
The heavens do seem to be whispering to me of late. Intimating that there is good news of great joy soon to come. Mary and Joseph were approaching the good news of great joy, surrounding the child that was almost due. The birth of any child is a wonder and a miracle, and they must have entered the final weeks before Jesus’ birth full of hope, and worry, and wonder too, I imagine.
The gospels don’t give us much information about the personalities of Mary and Joseph. We are left to fill in the gaps of the few hints we are given. I don’t know why, but in my imagination, I have always thought of Joseph as a kind, but taciturn man – not prone to public displays of emotion. Mary, in my imagination, is a contemplative – someone who is able to hold things in her heart and ponder them. So, I think of Mary and Joseph, who in my imagination are both quiet people, making their way toward the birth in silence.
Thomas Merton writes of silence: “The purest faith has to be tested by silence in which we listen for the unexpected, in which we are open to what we do not yet know, and in which we slowly and gradually prepare for the day when we will reach out to a new level of being with God. True hope is tested by silence in which we have to wait on the Lord in the obedience of unquestioning faith.” [p.76 Essential Writings]
These weeks before Christmas are a good time to let the Winter weather lead us to times of contemplation and silent reflection. We are trying to break through the hard exterior of our hearts and find something pliable and capable of transformation within. The hymn reads, “Like the soil beneath the frostline, hearts grow soft to welcome him.”