Soon many of us will be celebrating Christmas and the birth of Jesus.

Well, I suppose many will be celebrating Christmas, not all the birth of Jesus.

But many hundreds of years before the day that we celebrate as the birth of Jesus, the prophet Isaiah foretold of the event in Isaiah 9:6:

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders.  And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Prince of Peace.

Many years before I became familiar with this passage in Isaiah, my familiarity with the Prince of Peace was from an early 1970s Leon Russell album.

I was a big Leon Russell fan back in the 70s.

Leon Russell’s song Prince of Peace was recorded on his debut solo album titled “Leon Russell” in March of 1970.

“Never treat a brother like a passing stranger

Always try to keep the love light burning.

Listen only to this song and watch their eyes

For he might be the Prince of Peace returning.”

 

The blog post “Reading Between the Grooves” describes the idea of the song: “is that you better treat an individual like you want to be treated, because that person might be “the Prince of Peace returning.”

I am sure some of you may have heard this before, the one you least expect could be an angel of the Lord or the returning Christ.  I remember some years ago walking Baltimore’s Inner Harbor and encountering a homeless person.  Kim gave him a twenty-dollar bill if I remember correctly.

Of course, me, I freaked out…”Kim why did you do that?”

And she said something like:

“Because” she said, “you never know, this could be a test, that could be Jesus.”

 

And last Christmas I wrote about a young boy who schooled his cheap grandfather in generosity and giving.

I have to admit, I quickly fell back into my comfort zone as a stinge, because thinking back now I haven’t given up too much since.

 

There is an old woman who is a regular fixture sitting outside the Herndon Post Office.

I say old, but who knows, the weathered skin, squinting eyes, missing teeth, she could still be younger than me.

Disheveled, in a knit cap, and a worn coat, sometimes asleep, but most of the time greeting you with a question:

“Sir, do you have cash today?”

 

I am at the Herndon Post Office often, sometimes twice in the same day, and my general response is “no I don’t have any cash” avoiding the question, the look, and those eyes.

Typically, it is true, I don’t carry cash, and besides, as often as I encounter her, setting that precedent could get expensive.

 

It’s been a cold December, the coldest I can remember since living in Virginia. On a recent morning it was 22 degrees, yet there she was, sitting in her folding chair next to the entrance and exit doors of the Herndon Post Office.  On this day she had a heavy coat on and hood over that knit hat, and a scarf, and she was wearing a pandemic style mask covering her mouth that she pulled away when she spoke.

 

I went around the corner to the bank, took out some cash and returned to the post office.

 

I told her that I was in and out of here all the time and she was always here.

“It’s cold,” I said, “where do you stay?”

“In the shelter on Jefferson Highway” she responded, “I used to stay at the shelter in Reston, but you can only stay there a month, though I was there a year. I had to leave.”

“Jefferson Highway is far away; how do you get here?” I asked.

“I take the bus, with money that I get here.”

 

So, I explained to her again that I don’t usually carry cash, but I went to the bank and took some out.

With that I handed her the two twenty-dollar bills, and told her, “Merry Christmas” and went on my way.

 

It was my “look at all the children living in the streets’ and “love the blind and wounded as you love yourself” moment and realizing there was a lot of wisdom in this song that was wasted on a young teenager in the 70s.

 

On September 17, 1972, Leon Russell performed at the Roosevelt Stadium located in Jersey City in the great state of New Jersey.  My only memory of that show now was that at some point in the day, I remember being pressed up against the stage security fence with a pretty good view, and of course I had fun.  I would see more shows at the Roosevelt Stadium in Jersey City over the next couple of years, as I skipped the light fandango through the rest of my teenage years.  It would be many years though, and ultimately Kim, that would bring me back to the church and the prophet Isaiah.

 

It’s true, not everyone has bought into the prophesy of Isaiah Chapter 9:6.

Not everyone believes the birth we celebrate in a few days was the Messiah.

Not everyone accepts the notion of Jesus on Earth, the second covenant, Jesus’s blood shed and body broken to save all, Jew and Gentile alike this time.

Not everyone believes Jesus will come again.

 

Nevertheless, we can at least agree that giving is a special part of this season.

Maybe setting a precedent is not such a bad thing after all.

And forgiving too I would say.

And either way I suppose there is still a good message in the song:

 

Never be impatient with the ones who love you…it might be yourself that you are burning.

Never treat a brother like a passing stranger.

Love the blind and wounded as that you would yourself;

 

Because like my wife said, you never know, it could be a test.

 

For that broken soul might just be “the Prince of Peace” returning.

 

Postscript:

 

Kim and I hope that everyone has safe and happy Christmas.

Give and forgive.

Pray for peace and understanding.

And for those who are hurting, especially during holidays.

And for a Spring that comes early.