I’ve had more than a few people tell me that Advent has flown by fast, and they can hardly believe it’s almost Christmas. It is true that this year the calendar gave us the shortest Advent season possible, but it always feels a bit rushed in this last week before Christmas, doesn’t it?
Company’s coming, there’s baking to do, gifts to purchase and wrap, the house to decorate, and all the rest can add up to a frenetic feeling. At the church, we’ve been proofreading and printing a seemingly countless number of bulletins for multiple services. Deacons are delivering poinsettias, and the Care Team is following up on urgent pastoral concerns. The musicians and pastors are making special preparations, and behind-the-scenes volunteers are beautifying, baking, and serving alongside many mission partners.
When this joyful season begins to feel more full than joyous, and I feel the need to stop and breathe deeply and find some respite from the hasty preparations, I turn to this favorite Gaelic Blessing.
Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.
Deep peace of Christ the light of the world to you.
Deep peace of Christ to you.
These words, their rhythmic repetition, and their lovely images from the natural beauty of God’s creation, have the power to center and refocus me on what matters most as we prepare for the rebirth of Christ in our hearts. When the outer world seems to spin in far too much chaos, violence and fear, this Gaelic Blessing reminds me to heed the invitation from the Letter to the Colossians to “let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts.”
In her introduction to poet David Whyte’s book entitled Consolations, author Maria Popova says, “Words possess us more than we possess them. They feed on us more than we feed on them.” In this culminating countdown to Christmas, may we be possessed by formative words of deep peace, which seems a fitting way to welcome anew the Word made flesh, whom we have come to call the Prince of Peace.
