I imagine a dark-skinned man with traveling robe and rucksack draped over his arm, crows’ feet deeply etched into the skin around his eyes, gray hair interspersed among the black.
There will be no camels; [he says]
we are going on horseback,
at least for some of the way.
And we won’t arrive there
a few hours after everyone else.
Christmas is about the Child in all of us, and if you were fortunate enough to experience any part of Christmas in the company of a child, you know what sheer joy and wonder that can reveal (along with the sugar highs and melt-downs). But as today’s Gospel reading also reminds us, and in the words of a poem from the Iona Community,