They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him.
(Matthew 2:11)
Good morning, Lord. Thank you for the prayer by Edwina Gately that so simply describes your constant Presence:
Quiet.
Still.
Be.
Let your God love you.
It brings tears to my eyes and truly does erase “my liberty, my understanding and my entire will.” Suscipe by Ignatius Loyola).
This morning I picked up a few papers to sort and a bookmark I had laminated fell out. It bore the words of Thomas Merton, “God works in us while we rest in him.” I have been reading Seven Storey Mountain by him, even took it to my doctor’s appointment but didn’t have a chance to open it. It’s time to get back to it. Now, let me rest in you.
The Magi went into a house, not a stable, and saw a child, not an infant. He was probably a toddler.
It doesn’t matter when they found you, Lord, but that they did. It doesn’t matter whether you were born on December 25, but that you were born. It doesn’t even matter whether you were born in a stable or in a humble dwelling. The manger could have been an improvisation. (My mother told me my first crib was a dresser drawer.)
Later in the Gospel, we are told that Herod ordered the murder of all male children under three. So, he must have had some inkling of your age. The fact that you were still in Bethlehem suggests that your family lived there and did not leave until after their return from Egypt.
Whether there was a census or not, you are God’s Son, born of a virgin, conceived by the Holy Spirit. This is what we celebrate. With you, there is no time; so dates matter only in our mortal life. Commemorating the events of your earthly mission keeps us grounded, but celebrating you every moment sets us free.
Lord, please help me to see the little things, the star, the shepherds, the manger, as stepping stones to your Wisdom and Glory. Today, I will look for the light which invites me to seek you. Lead me; guide me. Thy will be done.