by Matthew B. Harper

And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…” (Luke 1:46-47)

In any household with children Christmas morning comes as a wonderful love filled chaos. There are cries of delight and joy, piles of wrapping paper, and new toys and clothes strewn about everywhere. The rest of the joyous day is often barely controlled chaos as the kids put on new clothes, and are then constantly underfoot with their new toys. Fingers are sticky with special foods, and there is tinsel and ribbons to endlessly clean up.

But then, after hours of chaos, quiet begins to come. Family members sated on rich food find a comfortable place to sit, and those children that have been a source of wonderful terror find a quiet place, on a warm lap, and rest. The gifts are put aside for a while, and the gift givers are loved and honored.

After all these years in prison I am not often very different. I look forward to Christmas when I often receive gifts of money to buy special books, magazine subscriptions, and CDs. I often love my ‘toys’ in here much more than I should. But the greatest time comes, and the greatest gift is, when friends and family come to visit. When they give of themselves to come through the barbed wire, and behind the fences, to sit and be with me.

In all the gifts that God has given us, I do not believe there is any greater divine longing than for those quiet moments together. That quiet time when we put aside all the trappings of creation, and simply sit and dwell with the creator. When we put aside our toys, and sit upon the lap of our heavenly parent.

O come, the key of David, come, and open wide our heavenly home; make safe the way that leads on high, and close the path of misery. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel! (Hymn 56)

by Matthew B. Harper

For with God nothing will be impossible. (Luke 1:37)

In prison the population divides itself. We divide into cliques, groups, gangs, and mobs. You have your associates, your ‘stick-men,’ your ‘running buddies,’ and occasionally a friend. We divide by race, by religion, by geography, by sports, and even by politics. In a community designed to dehumanize you we define ourselves not to create a community, but to destroy it; not to include people, but to exclude them.

An old cell mate of mine was a young white man, and a bit of a racist. He ranted one day about how all the different religious groups were only masks for racism. One by one he went through the groups listing perceived faults, until he came to the Christian community. He paused for a while, and then grudgingly conceded that in the church here there were members from every group, every race, every culture, and every background worshipping together. Maybe we ‘had something going’ he said; maybe we were different.

Christ comes into our midst and welcomes us. Christ welcomes us All. Christ overcomes every barrier, and loves us beyond any fault or shortcoming. I know it because I see it, I feel it, I experience it.

Community. In a men’s maximum-security prison, Community. With Christ all things are possible.

O come, thou branch of Jesse’s tree, free them from Satan’s tyranny that trust thy mighty power to save, and give them victory o’er the grave. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel! (Hymn 56)

by Matthew B. Harper

But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer is heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you shall call his name John. And you will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth.” (Luke 1:13,14)

Have you ever noticed how often a messenger of God starts with the words “be not afraid”? How majestic and terrible it must be, how amazing and wonderful.

God has spoken to us, and continues to speak to us. Often the words of God come through the living word of the Bible, sometimes through the prayers and collects of the liturgy, and sometimes they come into the quiet stillness of our hearts. I love the liturgy that has been handed down to us; it contains years and years of beautiful prayers and services. But the liturgy can also become a mindless recitation of empty words. It is important, at such times, to again grow quiet. To listen quietly to our hearts, and to ask how we might reconnect with God.

Often the hardest words to receive are the ones that come through other believers. But when we share our needs and prayer concerns, sometimes it is in community that we feel the presence of God and hear the guiding and comforting words that bring divine joy.

As a child in Bible studies I learned that prayer is talking to God; as an adult I have learned that just as much, prayer is listening to God.

O come, O come thou Lord of might, who to thy tribes on Sinai’s height in ancient times didst give the law, in cloud and majesty and awe. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel! (Hymn 56)