Joy. That’s. It.

I’d rather have joy than happiness.

Let me share this poem by Rilke posted by Robin Bates.

Without your simplicity, how could this
have happened — what shines now in the dark of night?
The God who thundered over the nations
makes himself mild and through you enters the world

Were you expecting something greater?

What is greatness? He moves straight through
all measurements we know, dissolving them away. Even the path of a star is not like that.

Behold: these kings standing here are great
and drag into your lap rare treasures
that each believes to be the greatest.

Perhaps you are astonished at their gifts.
But look into the blanket in your arms,
how He already surpasses all of them.

Amber that is traded near and far,
rings of gold and costly spices
that drift for a moment on the air:
these are quickly fading pleasures
and leave behind a vague regret.

The gift He brings — as you will see — is joy.

Nativity Scene. Carved by Arnolfo di Cambio in the late 13th century on display in Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome. Image by Catholic Traveler

I can taste that lasting sweetness what Joy brings. Joy to you all.

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