The heavens dome different this day, the light all different.
The glory's rising—glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth, because God has left the glory of the galaxies and come down to our depths.
God is here! God is here! Christ is born to you, to you! The glad tidings are to you, to you!
It's like you can hear the beating of angel wings over Bethlehem—a whole vast host—as if the sky lifts with a light that isn't of the sun or of the stars or of this world.
Angels leaned in near the mystery so large that has become the Babe so small, and they caught Light, like catching fire.
One star hovered too close to the infinite God-become-infant and combusted bright.
And the flame of it all grazed the shepherds up on the hills, and they blazed, full of wonder, to the source—to the stable where the star seemed dim in the incarnated brilliance of the Light of the World.
God, divine Light, tabernacles himself in skin, and lights the darkness of men.
Jesus left the starry heavens to save us from our sins.
This day, this night—this is the time of the awed silence.
Now, a thousand-thousand trees dance with light.
Now, a thousand-thousand gifts carry love.
Now, at the foot of every tree, we are all only recipients of grace.
Christ, who called all things into being, gives you sun and moon and stars, the earth under you and the sky over you, and this ocean of air for every breath that fills every lung of every living thing—to you, to you, to you! We live in an ocean of grace. Gifts are our air.1
Love Catching Fire
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