This week we light the fourth candle on our Advent wreaths, the candle that represents love. In just a few days, we will celebrate the greatest gift of love the world has ever known:
The Incarnation! Emmanuel!
As we ponder the love of God made manifest to us in Jesus Christ, it's interesting to pause and think about how this great gift was wrapped and delivered:
When the King of Kings, the Son of God, "was born, he didn't come in a show of great power, but as a helpless baby. He didn't come as a wealthy child of great privilege, but rather as the son of an unwed teenage mother... He was born in a stable and his crib was an eating trough for animals. That's how his life began, as a homeless baby. He had hardly come into the world when Mary and Joseph took him across the border to escape the murderous intentions of King Herod the Great." The Holy Family became homeless asylum seekers in Egypt.
It might feel strange to us to think of Jesus as being homeless, but after growing up in Nazareth, Jesus essentially lived on the road as an itinerant preacher for three years; no permanent dwelling or address to call his own. And when he died on the cross, he did so with no home, no possessions, no bank account, and few friends in sight. "In his own particular way, Jesus was born, lived and died as a person who knew how it felt to be a homeless person. He was the brother and friend of all homeless people and of all refugees and those who seek asylum."
These words give me pause to think about our Corporal Work of Mercy for December, Shelter the Homeless, and my own feelings concerning those who are homeless because they are refugees or migrants or asylum seekers. Consider viewing this 4 minute video from Fr. James Martin to find out what the Bible has to say about these much loved children of God:
And finally, a prayer...
A Moment for Grace
A Prayer for Refugees
God of our Wandering Ancestors,
Long have we known
That your heart is with the refugee:
That you were born into time
In a family of refugees
Fleeing violence in their homeland,
Who then gathered up their hungry child
And fled into alien country.
That your heart is with the refugee:
That you were born into time
In a family of refugees
Fleeing violence in their homeland,
Who then gathered up their hungry child
And fled into alien country.
Their cry, your cry, resounds through the ages:
“Will you let me in?”
“Will you let me in?”
Give us hearts that break open
When our brothers and sisters turn to us with that same cry.
Then surely all these things will follow:
Ears will no longer turn deaf to their voices.
Eyes will see a moment for grace instead of a threat.
Tongues will not be silenced but will instead advocate.
And hands will reach out—
working for peace in their homeland, working for justice in the lands where they seek safe haven.
When our brothers and sisters turn to us with that same cry.
Then surely all these things will follow:
Ears will no longer turn deaf to their voices.
Eyes will see a moment for grace instead of a threat.
Tongues will not be silenced but will instead advocate.
And hands will reach out—
working for peace in their homeland, working for justice in the lands where they seek safe haven.
Lord, protect all refugees in their travels.
May they find a friend in me
And so make me worthy
Of the refuge I have found in you.
May they find a friend in me
And so make me worthy
Of the refuge I have found in you.
AMEN
And a song:
"A baby's cry is the sound of love come down, come down, Emmanuel..."
With Advent Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love,
Lyn