| Jeremiah 23:5-8
Psalms 72:1, 12-13, 18-19 Matthew 1:18-24 Oh Lord, be my justice. Have pity on me. Save me. Even when I don't turn to you, you know what I am facing. You made me, have been faithfully inviting me to accept graces all along. I've kept up a relationship with you, while maintaining an independence from you as well. Here, in the middle of Advent, you know what I need, how low I am, how poor. When things get bad, you know how I react to the problems, to the people around me. I try to be my own justice. It isn't the way I want to be. I don't want to be the source of any more conflict and hurt. Heal me and save me, my justice. Dear Jesus, save me from my sins. Open my heart these crazy days and help me enter into and experience who you are for me. The nails and cross show who you are for me. These days, in the midst of feelings of "hollow-ness" and "not enough," let me see who you are for me, in the very way you come into this world. There was controversy about who you are, at your conception. The straw and the manger prepare for the nails and the cross. This entrance, this way, for me. For my independence. God, and with us. God, and flesh. God, and so human. God and with me in all the mess I face. You came so lowly and poor, that I might be forgiven and healed, Jesus, my Savior. In this light, shining in my self-imposed darkness, I can see more
clearly a solidarity I miss most days. You are Savior of us all.
You hear the cry of all the poor. My inner struggles darken my ability
to see the poor around me, those who suffer so much more than me, are deprived
of far more. Their need cries out for justice, most clearly on the
Silent Night, the Holy Night. You are our justice, you save
us
from our sins, you are Emmanuel with us. As this sense of
solidarity increases, my independence decreases, and I feel your justice
and healing begin.
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