Misconception. A poem by Suzanne
God – The Glorious One who will come again as Sovereign Lord,
chose to come to His created, and birth in a stable’s manger!
Angels had sung, but crude shepherds with rough hands and simple hearts
were the first summoned; and seeing the Babe, adored and shouted the news, just as the Heavenly choir had done!
While a mother, in her heart, was wondering at the birth of her tiny son, this stranger, slumbering.
But we have sought to make Him in some mystic mould;
building lofty temples where this God can be contained, understood and worshipped,
and where the grandeur and pomp of old creates some sense of holiness
that fills a void and dulls the need to pray,
icons allow us to glimpse our images of Your Unimaginable Being
in some small, mortal, tangible way.
Christmas trees shimmer!
But within their flickering light is the darkness of ignorance that You have come.
We no longer need a Deliverer! For we are delivered by possessions and promises, security and science!
Hands of despair grasp at any glittering bauble bright, to decorate lives with the tinsel of pretence!
Tradition and ritual celebrate the coming of One who came, that all who receive Him might have fullness of life –
but called us, not to seek Him in cathedrals, but in a stable;
and there to find the richest gift of all.
For still Your love is born, not in mighty crumbling halls,
but in the humblest, kindest place;
in every contrite heart of one who calls Your name;
in poverty, he who shares and smiles; in plenty, he who never forgets his obligations.
For as great kings, following the hope of ages came with their gifts, brought their heart’s intent;
we seek Your face – and find the fulfilment of Your promises.