Richard the Lionhearted

The Rev. Linda Wofford Hawkins
Rector

            The favorite crèche in our family collection is a set of wooden figures carved by a man who took up his art form after being paralyzed in an accident.  For several decades he carved one figure per day.  Years ago we placed our crèche in a central spot in our home and let it grow, adding various carved animals collected in our travels.

            One day we noticed yet another addition to the scene.  Our young daughter had added a stuffed animal—a lion in the midst of the farm animals—Richard the Lionhearted no less.  We laughed at this strange addition, yet she was only taking Isaiah at his word.  Only a little child would carry this scene to its logical conclusion.  Only a little child would truly dream that the impossible might happen.

This improbable scene depicts the peaceable kingdom promised in scripture. 

The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,

and the leopard shall lie down with the kid,

and the calf and the lion and the fatling together,

and a little child shall lead them. 

This  peaceable kingdom embraces humankind and the whole of creation.  Perhaps the greatest transformation is the end of human violence when swords are turned into ploughshares.

            As we observe the first anniversary of the slaughter of twenty young children and six adults in Newtown, Connecticut, we are acutely aware of the violence that besets us.  We have seen all too many stuffed animals offered up in remembrance of the lives of innocent children snuffed out in a season of joy and peace.  In this year, the killings have continued in other mass murders as well as in the less publicized deaths in our streets and in the epidemic of suicide that plagues us.

            Families of Newtown have already committed themselves to the work of social change that would stop this madness.  As they have begun foundations and programs, they testify to the power of their fallen children urging them on.  They feel the power of their children pushing them to make a difference so that other children will not have to die.  As we Christians look toward the Feast of the Incarnation, we show forth the power of a newborn child drawing us toward a kingdom of peace and good will.

            For several years, I have been powerfully moved by an anthem by Glenn Rudolph as sung by The Washington Chorus in this season.  It is “The Dream Isaiah Saw” underwritten as “A prayer for our children and a forthcoming season of peace.”  The refrain is haunting:

           

            Little child whose bed is straw,

            take new lodgings in my heart.

            Bring the dream Isaiah saw:

            life redeemed from fang and claw.

The kettle drums drive home the power of this little child to transform the whole world in a revolution of the human spirit.  May we in this season allow ourselves to be led by that little child into a world redeemed from the violence that reigns among us.  May we prepare to give this child new lodgings in our hearts.