I hope you've been having a restful and reflective season. And, I realize that, for many of us, this has been a difficult season - whether simply feeling the weight of national and global tensions and tragedies, or the pain often borne uniquely in our immediate context. I carried this paradox with me in my conversation with my dear friend Alexander John Shaia yesterday. It was our final Make Advent Great Again dialogue, and it's too good not to share with you

Out of this house where there is no room For the little ones that to him belong (He is weak but he is God)

This is no time for a child to be born, With the earth betrayed by war & hate And a comet slashing the sky to warn That time runs out & the sun burns late.

High steppin' camels one by one See the wise men boogaloo Down to Bethlehem to have some fun

On a stony trail through the Sinai wastes A little family headed south Father, mother, little babe A burdened donkey, head drooped down

Christmas trees and tinsel Yule logs and holly Turkey and Christmas pudding

May you be gifts to those you see Better than presents under a tree