Sunday in December

by Rebecca Weber

Gloria in excelsis Deo
we sing again, again,
putting on angel airs and tinsel halos
in preparation for next weekend’s Christmas play.
Beyond the curtains, snow falls silent and thick
with early twilight.

Make safe the way that leads on high—
but most of all, tonight, make safe
our journey in the darkness through the snow.
Keep us out of the ditch, keep us
on the road, keep us, God.

From the eastern mountains, travelling on they come
and so do we, into this sacred space
of hushed candlelight and rustic rows of chairs.
We come, I come, bringing the fear and hurry
frozen in my stomach like a stone.

O come, O come, Emmanuel
and meet my anxious heart tonight.
Come in the vibrating strings of violin and piano,
come in the harmony of carols leaning into light,
come in the child and his cello,
and his siblings singing Silent Night.
Bring silence to my frigid night.

He comes to make his blessings known,
here in the tears thawing my rigid heart,
He opens the way for His peace to come.
“He meets us here,” the song-leader says,
“Here on our snowy roads. He does not take the pain away.
He meets us in it—God with us.”

For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth—
and finally I am free to sing
His wild chorus lifting the wooden rafters
of this ancient church.
No halos here, but hallowed space and light
to hold and celebrate the gift of Christ.

When we walk back out into the night,
the snow has stopped, the streetlights shed their glow
on solid banks bordering the road.
Peace has come to dwell with us,
And all is calm, all is bright.

Rebecca Weber has found the goodness of God in the open fields of Southern Ontario, where she bakes, writes, and cultivates relationships.

Artwork: Cathedral in Winter, Ernst Oehme, 1821