It might be the darkening days. Or maybe it’s the coolishair wafting in from the formerly frozen north reminding me that nothing ispermanent.

There’s a giant anvil hanging over our heads. It casts a bigshadow. The sense of peace I was lucky enough to enjoy in my lifetime is over.

Currently, there are 45 armed conflicts in the world, notjust the two—Ukraine and Gaza—that  arereceiving all the outrage. There are a lot more waiting in the wings too. The Pennsylvanianational guard is training to deploy to the Horn of Africa. NATO forces aremoving closer to the edge of Russia for the inevitable conflict.  Warships are practicing in the SouthChina Sea and cruising around the Mediterranean just in case.

What?

We’re covering the world in military hardware, selling it tohungry national buyers and law enforcement agencies and selling it to eachother in case we catch our neighbor pissing on our petunias.

Did I mention the mass migrations—caused by climate crisesand the resulting lack of arable land—which in turn causes a political shift tothe far right and authoritarian regimes? 

Happening here, under the shadow of the anvil. What can I,one lone crank, do?

But it’s Christmas and I’m trying to feel hopeful in theface of compelling evidence that man is a mad animal incapable ofself-awareness. Trying to see the light, like I tell everyone else to do.

At Christmas Vespers at the old Moravian Church in Bethlehemseveral years ago, I got a whiff of what it feels like to be hopeful. There’s apart in the service where the lights go out and everyone lights beeswax tapers.The student choir descends from the organ loft and files through the pews tothe front of the church singing an African hymn and moving gently to its beat. Iclosed my eyes, in the cold desert night with them, marveling at the supernova lightyears away in the sky and rejoicing at the palpable shift in energy. It was as iftime and all creatures froze and genuflected in the face of the goodness whichhad visited us in the form of a little baby.

I knew it was theater and mythology, but I cried my eyesout.

Because what did that little baby say? He said, love yourneighbor as yourself. 

Peace, love, and happy Christmas.