Jesus was born into a dark, cold, empty cave. Into the barren blackness of the night. A King born for the poor, of the poor, as the poor. In becoming lovers of the poor, do we as followers of Christ dare to embrace not only the beggar on the street, but also the beggar within ourselves?
Many times, our hearts and minds are so filled with trying to provide a perfect Christmas for our families, that the season of Advent — a time meant to be filled with prayerful quiet and joyful anticipation of Christ’s birth — has been completely derailed and lost…
When I come to the Proclamation of the Kingdom, I always imagine Christ and His disciples trudging down a dusty road in Galilee in the hot sun, en route from one town to another. Certainly He spoke in synagogues; certainly He spoke to large crowds of people; but the bulk of His time was taken up with the simple fact of traveling, on foot, with all of the discomfort that that implies.
Gentlemen aren’t just found in Jane Austen novels.