How do you worship emptiness?
A birth? A baby? Hay? Animals?
Shepherds, Wise men? Presents?
Christmas trees? Sleighs? A big
star? A manger? Snow? Santa?
Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer?
the Grinch, stuff, things, material,
the opposite of emptiness. We
get Christmas. Who wouldn’t?
Compared to what? A stone rolled
back, one or two etherial (not
quite flesh and blood) guys in
white sitting next to folded
grave-clothes, an empty tomb
(say that again with gusto,
in as much as there isn’t
much to go on), AN EMPTY TOMB,
a hint of Jesus here and there and
(don’t touch/touch) then gone, not
much to go on and there’s the hook.
We like stuff but it isn’t enough.
Empty and just a hint, mystery
and then: stuff never will be just
stuff again.

*idea from a meditation by Frederick Buechner

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