Lord, teach me. . . .

She was five, sure of the facts, and recited them with slow solemnity convinced every word was revelation. She said they were so poor they had only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to eat and they went a long way from home without getting lost. The lady rode a donkey, the man walked, and the baby was inside the lady. They had to stay in a stable with an ox and an ass (hee-hee) but the Three Rich Men found them because a star lited the roof Shepherds came and you could pet the sheep but not feed them. Then the baby was borned. And do you know who he was? Her quarter eyes inflated to silver dollars. The baby was God. And she jumped in the air whirled round, dove into the sofa and buried her head under the cushion which is the only proper response to the Good News of the Incarnation. --John Shea, “The Hour of the Unexpected” Monday  Rest and reflect on the best Christmas you remember as a child. What made it special for you? Share your st

It is now, at Advent, that I am given the chance to suspend all expectation . . . and instead to revel in the mystery. –Jerusalem Jackson Greer Advent can be a season of watching. We watch as nativity scenes spring up. We peer into the cradle, looking for the Christ Child. Christmas carols, Christmas pageants all invite us to come and see. But there’s more to this season than simply standing by and looking. Besides the standard nativity figures—Holy Family, shepherds, Magi—I believe there is one more figure that’s a necessary part of every nativity. It’s you . Pause for a moment and let your mind wander in to that first Christmas, when Jesus was born. Instead of merely looking in as an outsider, like we glance at a Christmas card, place yourself in the scene. Maybe you see yourself as Zechariah or Elizabeth, receiving news of an unexpected pregnancy long, long after you thought those days were over. How do you react when the angel Gabriel shows up? Or perhaps

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” –Mister Rogers There is a famous painting, I am told, that once hung in an art museum in Europe. The artist is no one you’ve likely ever heard of; the quality of the painting is unremarkable. But there is a story that has become attached to this painting that is unforgettable. The painting, titled Checkmate , depicts just what you might expect: the final moments of a close chess match. One party (some say this is Satan) believes he has the game wrapped up, and his human opponent looks on in dismay. The legend goes that years ago, chess master Bobby Fisher visited this museum and came upon this painting. Its subject matter caught his attention, for obvious reasons—but there was something more that grabbed his keen eye. He spent some time studying the painting, then announced to his friend: “We must find the artist.

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. –Carl Sagan Maybe you remember those old commercials for a popular brand of ketchup. The TV screen is filled with a juicy, perfectly-cooked burger; a ketchup bottle is poised over the beef, and as Carly Simon sings, slowly . . . s-l-o-w-l-y . . . the ketchup oozes forth in all its glorious thickness. Wide-eyed children watch, their eyes—and taste buds—eager and waiting. Anticipation. . . . Advent is a little like that. All around us, at every shopping center and department store, we are surrounded by the frantic sights and sounds of the holiday season. Everything is a hurry-scurry, buy-me-now bargain. We seek the newest, the brightest, the best—and the best deal. Grab it, go—and move on to the next stop, quickly! No time for peace on earth, it seems. But if we manage to slow down long enough to worship, everything changes. Relax , whispers the Spirit. Pause with me. Take time along the way to enjoy the jou