Peace and Willing Good

Star light, a manger, and simple shepherds.  No room at the inn.  And angels in the sky.  This is the miracle celebrated in different ways by many cultures. 

“For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders….”

From every burst of flame on a frozen field of war, for every child put to bed without food, across a world of staggering beauty and burning forests, men and women cradle a child.   Again and again.

Why a child, as naked as hope?  It is only the barest promise. Because, it is a miracle.

For me it is a faith that rises above every reason to despair.  For whenever life comes into the world, we believe again, believe that there will be true peace on earth and “will,” good will, to all who wait in darkness.  That is the essence of our most human of beliefs, sung in many languages, read in temples and whispered in the night.   And we repeat it, not just once a year but nightly, in every Bethlehem.

Each birth, is the voice of life, speaking to life, and the word is Love.