The Fourth Sunday in Advent

On this final Sunday of Advent, I offer you a poem that I have quoted here before.

By Madeleine L'Engle, it remains appropriate, year after year.

God did not wait till the world was ready,

Till . . . nations were at peace.

God came when the Heavens were unsteady

and prisoners cried out for release.

God did not wait for the perfect time.

God came when the need was deep and great.

God dined with sinners in all their grime,

turned water into wine.

God did not wait till hearts were pure.

In joy God came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.

To a world like ours, of anguished shame

God came, 

and God's Light would not go out.

God came to a world which did not mesh

to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.

In the mystery of the Word made Flesh

the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot what till the world is sane

to raise our songs with joyful voice,

for to share our grief, to touch our pain,

God came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!