Christmas
I had a dream about angels falling like snowflakes. Outside my window fluffy snowflakes twirled lazily, in no rush to hit the ground, in that lovely way snow sometimes does. As I gazed at the sight, individual flakes began to increase in size. I was mesmerized. First one, then another. Each took on a ghostly form, white and translucent. In my dream I saw wings, lots of wings, and light. I don’t remember if any of the angels touched the ground but I was compelled to move closer to the window and then to the door, which I opened. I reached out my hand and one came to me. I must have exclaimed something because my husband called from across the room, asking what I was doing. “Don’t you see them?” I said, “There are angels!” His brow rose in concern, but when I showed him my hands his expression changed. I could tell he saw what I saw. And, at that moment, an angel landed on his hand.
I have to confess that I don’t spend much time thinking about the existence of angels, but I know many people who do. There is an entire area of systematic theology devoted to the doctrine of angels, appropriately called Angelology. In Scripture, angels are spirit messengers, guardians, and divine agents, and of course throughout the Advent season, we have heard various scriptural accounts of angelic activity. The Christmas liturgies each include references to angels surrounding the birth of Jesus. Angels are active and present as mediators throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, and as messengers in the New Testament.
But my purpose in sharing my dream here, and on Christmas day no less, is not to open up a discussion of angels, or to affirm or dispute their presence or activity in the world, or to even interpret the meaning of my dream. Rather, I want to encourage a measured sense of fearless wonderment and awe for the things that give us hope, but which we can’t fully understand. Things like the countless ways God communicates in us, with us, and through us. And, like the birth, life, and mission of Jesus, the Word, whom the writer of Hebrews identifies as the “imprint of God’s very being” [Heb 1:1-6 ].
The reflections for the four Sundays of Advent found here on The Good Disciple blog began with the decision to nurture the tender shoot emerging from our hardened hearts, to open an interior space into which the Word of God could enter, to recognize our own belovedness, and finally to give our fiat to God’s movement in our lives and in the lives of others. With the passing of each week we have worked to prepare a dwelling place which is fresh, unobstructed, expectant, and ready to receive the infant Jesus.
It is my hope that as good disciples, we will continue to nurture this place in our hearts where the spirit of God dwells, inspires, comforts, and encourages us to do God’s will.
May we all experience the Wonderment and Awe of Christmas every day, and the Joy of knowing our God whose loving presence is revealed to us constantly, in countless ways, if we only will open our eyes and see it.
Merry Christmas!