Advent Day 19: December 20th
A Single, Holy Night

Silent Night. Holy Night. Silent and holy the night.

An incisive night, giving birth to so much. The night when invisible love became visible. The night we call holy.

Why is it so difficult to recognize the holy? Is it the loud roar of commercialism? The onslaught of festivities? The sheer demand of traditions that define what we see and how we view things?

Where do we lose ourselves, time and time again?

Silent and holy the night.

Does it take that much to honor the movement of love? Isn't the evidence everywhere, if only we'd take it in? If only we'd let love turn something around inside of us?

Silent and holy the night.

We could stop. we could refuse to go a step further until we have remembered the love and praised the holy, until we feel their force again -- not dimly, in the background of our continuous activity, but strongly, purely, deeply, truly. We could refuse to go a step further until we are once again connected to what's holy -- our bearer of love. It's possible to stop the insane rushing and the weight of our schedules.

Silent Night. Holy Night.

Holy the night. Even the darkness is held by this holiness: our mistakes and missteps, our confusion, the distraction of the world. The night embraces all of it.

Why would be dismiss this gift so outrageously and extravagently put into our hands?

All we long for is held by a single, holy night.

by Paula D'Arcy, Redbird Foundation
from the book: Daybreaks