Waning crescent: Isaiah 24:23

The four weeks of Advent were meant to be a season of anticipation and self-examination as the church awaited the arrival of our savior king.  And then come the Christmas and Epiphany seasons of joyful awe and wonder.  All the prophecies about Immanuel came true as God in flesh visited our broken humanity and fractured world.  This is a poem about hope mixed with humility. 

Too disconcerted to shine,
to behold the fools below;
poor lunatics drunk with self
and with what they think they know.

Abashed, the moon hides its face,
no more than reflected glow,
a lumen that’s not enough
for bleaching the world's sorrow.

Created things proclaim truths
partial as far as they go;
but the Son that created sun
and moon can purest truth bestow.

And as on a Christmas night
in a stable long ago,
like brute beasts, like sun, moon and stars,
wise souls will still bow low.

Liz McFadzean

“The moon will be dismayed, the sun ashamed; for the Lord Almighty will reign on Mount Zion and in Jerusalem and before its elders—with great glory.”    Isaiah 24:23

Photo from Griffith Observatory