We have come so far; we’re almost there.
If we could only reach out, stretch our arm
a bit more, into the dark, into the air
where a song is spinning, “Repent! Prepare!”
John interrupts, in his coarse camel hair,
“Who warned you, snakes? The ax is sharp,
the fire is hot. Fruitless? Ruthless.
God is trimming trees today. On guard!”
But we have come so far, and we’re almost there.
We hear a prophet’s echo in Mary’s delivery,
“Emmanuel. That woman’s child will be
God with us.” God. With. Us. Impossibility!
So yes. Reach and stretch, as far as you can.
God is coming, and now arrives, alive,
To demonstrate, to teach, to embody, to be
the presence of intense, impossible, unconditional
There is a song in the air, and that song is called love.
We wait for you, long-expected Jesus. We prepare for your arrival with familiar sights and smells and flavors and sounds. Familiar ... and yet new every year. There is a song in the air, both familiar and new, a song that is and was and ever shall be, Amen.