Not exactly a warm Christmas wish, or prayer even. But if I may be allowed an excuse, I'd like to think it's a reflection more or less in keeping with a season whose God became enfleshed in our world in the Way that He did. So quietly and without fanfare. And whose Love, even at its "fiercest," continues to respect both our frailty and our freedom:
In a busily progressive world like today's, where
1) the depth of one's love is too often measured by the fierceness of one's activity; where
2) the purity and zeal of our activism is gauged by our determination to change the thing we love; and where
3) the success of our change depends on the degree of our control,
what a relief it is to know that love can also be gentle. What a comfort it is to know that even love, without the least dereliction of duty, is sometimes content to let a creature be, and be itself; and all so that it may be known and loved more patiently, more Divinely, for what it is. Last of all, what a grace and a hope it is, to know that no amount of even the most selfless, idealistic, well-intentioned control is ever going to disclose what any creature is, or what it needs, or even how it must change for the supplying of those needs: - in short, no amount of control is ever going to love or improve any creature better than that gentlest of all loves we call prayer.
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