That Glow
O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence—as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil. – Isaiah 64:1-2a (NRSV)
Last Christmas in Seville, I was introduced to Nuestra Señora de la O, Our Lady of the O. Hers is the Feast of the Expectation, December 18th. She got her name because, in some religious communities, after vespers that night, a long, loud “O” would arise from the choir. A vocalization of creation’s yearning to be made whole.
I like to think that the glow of the Christmas season is spelled with that “O.”
Like Isaiah’s “O,” the Christmas glow arrives from above and below. It is the dawning of earth-shaking liberation, which we expect to break through the clouds at any moment. And the throbbing embers of a watchfire beside which the faithful have warmed themselves for generations.
It is light and heat. The glory of the Lord that shone round about them.
It is the angelic glow-up those dusty shepherd faces receive, reflecting the splendor swaddled at the center of their circle.
It is the beauty of candlelit faces, and it is the roiling of protesters against the latest Herod.
It is a call to gather round, to come in out of the cold. The glow of lamps trimmed and burning. It is the “O” on our lips as we gasp to realize the meaning of all this wonder: everything has changed.
Prayer
O, tear open the heavens! O, quake the mountains with liberation! O, gather us in and then send us out into the wonder of new mercies!
About the AuthorVince Amlin is co-pastor of Bethany UCC, Chicago, and co-planter of Gilead Church Chicago, forming now.