
The longest night
… the twilight womb before the birth
of the Christ, all part
and particular to his Incarnation,
this nurturing dark that precedes
the light of the first new day.

… the twilight womb before the birth
of the Christ, all part
and particular to his Incarnation,
this nurturing dark that precedes
the light of the first new day.

Halfway through packing for their pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the Temple and its sacrifice, the covenant and its blood, Joseph is distracted by the keening of the child. He had never noticed before how like grief a baby’s cry could be – wailing for the womb, mourning the waters from which it was drawn out and adopted into the world.

Jesus, of course, is an incarnation of God, an event I can barely even think about because my brain is not big enough. What an amazing thing that God became one of us. It’s astounding. It’s impossible to grasp. That is why we observe it mainly with silence, in the dark.

Am I ready to see it when God peers at me out of the eyes of the person with whom I am just now talking?

Penitence is not about beating ourselves up. It is about honest self-reflection in the Spirit so we can turn to God more clearly and deeply.

Today in our lectionary gospel the disciples receive the instructions: “As you go, proclaim the good news: ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons”

We don’t really know that much about Joseph and I wonder if that causes us to give him the short end of the stick. Yet, the imagery of a loving father that Jesus uses to talk about God implies that Joseph played an important role in his formation. The way in which Joseph participates in the Incarnation suggests that perhaps we all have a role in birthing God into the world.

Image of Jesus and disciples from the Coptic Museum in Cairo, Egypt Writing in the Sunday Review section of the New York Times, Peter Wehner