Meditations In the Christmas Story – It Came to Pass

Merry Christmas Dear Reader,

“And it came to pass in those days that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus.”

My Grandfather used to always say that it the nature of time that things come to pass and not to stay.  Everything temporal is temporary.  In fact these words come from same root. 

Tempus Fugit – Time is fleeting.  It moves through the glass at the same unending pace.  Most of the world did not realize it was waiting for something.  Israel was waiting.  It was longing for release from a new kind of bondage. 

Slavery in Egypt came to pass.  The golden age of David and Solomon came to pass.  The era of captivity came to pass.  The Greeks and then the Romans came not to stay but to pass through the glass into the fleeting mists of time. 

We, however, get to see into the grains as they pass.  Captured for us in the Christmas story is a moment that comes to pass.  This moment is significant and deserves my honor and pause.  Jesus arrives exactly when he should. 

Some will speculate that the timing is wrong.  Some will deny that he came at all.  For me there is no Christmas without Christ.  There is no advantage to life with the Advent.  It is in this moment that comes to pass that we find the silent stillness that as it does each year will pass through the glass too quickly.

I will purpose to listen for the moments where I can live and breathe that moment in Bethlehem.  I will attempt to put forth peace and good will to everyone.  I will not take the moment for granted.  I will remember what has passed and look up on some clear midnight to hope for what is to come.

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear – Sixpence None the Richer

It came upon the midnight clear,

that glorious song of old,

from angels bending near the earth

to touch their harps of gold:

"Peace on the earth, good will to men,

from heaven's all-gracious King."

The world in solemn stillness lay,

to hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come

with peaceful wings unfurled,

and still their heavenly music floats

o'er all the weary world;

above its sad and lowly plains,

they bend on hovering wing,

and ever o'er its Babel sounds

the blessed angels sing.

And ye, beneath life's crushing load,

Whose forms are bending low,

Who toil along the climbing way

With painful steps and slow,

Look now! for glad and golden hours

Come swiftly on the wing.

O rest beside the weary road,

And hear the angels sing!

For lo the days are hastening on,

By prophet seen of old,

When with the ever-circling years

Shall come the time foretold

When peace shall over all the earth

Its ancient splendors fling,

And the whole world send back the song

Which now the angels sing.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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