Each year, I write a poem, based on one of the people in the Christmas narrative, to be read at our Christmas Eve service. This year, I chose Anna, the prophetess who spent every day in God's temple, fasting, praying and waiting for the Messiah who would redeem Jerusalem (Luke 2.36-38). Particularly, I wondered why Luke thought to include the name of her father (Phanuel) and her family's place of origin (Asher). Why was she waiting so intently? What human means did God use to mold her into the woman she was? Did her dad and her 'home county', if you will, have anything to do with it? Of course, we don't know for sure. But the poem below is a gathering together of my thoughts on how, perhaps, God may have worked His wonders in Anna's life. I hope, while imaginative, it is true to the biblical lessons that her life, and the rest of Scripture, place upon us. Enjoy!
The hills of Asher in the north
Are gold and green and bubble forth
Like olive bunches on a tree,
And tumble down toward Galilee.
From this rich soil grew faith in Christ:
Where five loaves and two fish sufficed
To feed a crowd five thousand strong;
Where God forgave the sinners’ wrongs;
Where wonders were too rife to count
And Jesus taught upon the Mount.
But Galilee and Asher’s land
Were once as fertile as the sand
That has no place for roots to hold,
And bring forth faith like olives gold.
It’s people jumbled truth and not
And stirred it all into one pot –
The Gentile’s faith mixed with the Jew,
And cooked into a poison stew
So that true faith was almost gone,
And few looked for Messiah’s dawn.
But sometimes sand becomes a pearl …
And, thus, there was a little girl
Whose father sat her on his knee
On Asher’s slopes beside the Sea,
And said: “I know this land is bare,
And people live without a care,
And sin is ripe and faith seems gone,
And few look for Messiah’s dawn …
But we live in a privileged place!”
A furrow grew on Anna’s face.
“Remember what the prophets told?”
Her father said. “The green and gold
Of faith will sprout here once again
Just like the olives after rain!
Isaiah put it best, my pearl” –
And then, as she began to twirl
Her fingers in her tangled hair,
He said, now with a distant stare,
The land is now under contemptLike hair, or gardens, long unkempt.It’s dark now, like the winter seaHere in this Gentile Galilee.But those whose land is grayed with blightWill see a great and glorious light;And those benighted in this landWill dwell no more on shifting sand.For unto us a Child is bornTo hide our shame and bear our scorn.For Israel’s glory comes a Child,And for Galilee’s lost Gentiles.Just when you think all hope is gone,Then comes the Savior’s blessed dawn!Young Anna’s heart began to race.
Into the furrows on her face
Were planted seeds of blessed hope
Which grew in clumps and helped her cope
With famine spread in Asher’s land,
Whose faith was built on shifting sand.
“The Christ will come!” became her cry.
“Perhaps I’ll see Him with my eye,
And bend and kiss His holy feet,
And see Isaiah’s promise, sweet,
Come true and spread o’er Galilee
And Asher’s hills beside the Sea.”
Ten years passed by, Anna was grown.
Her faith was now all of her own …
But shared, now, with another man
Who, like her dad, had more than sand
Beneath his feet. With sandals strapped,
He’d walk with her to where she’d clapped
Her hands that day in pure delight
When daddy spoke about the light,
About the Christ, about the day
When Asher’s tears He’d wipe away.
For seven years they made that trek.
And each year, faith grew by the peck –
Like olives beaten from the trees –
As she would sit upon his knees
And look into the sunrise, gold
And quote the words Isaiah’d told:
For unto us a Child is bornTo hide our shame and bear our scorn.For Israel’s glory comes a Child,And for Galilee’s lost Gentiles.Just when you think all hope is gone,Then comes the Savior’s blessed dawn!The eighth year, though, she went alone,
And came back to an empty home –
But sure as she had ever been
That, even with all Gal’lee’s sin,
And even with her own regret,
Messiah’s dawn was coming yet.
“A Child is born to wipe away
The tears that flood my eyes today;
A Father for this daughter’s cry;
A Husband that will never die;
A Savior who’ll our sins erase;
My God I
will see face to face!”
The years passed by, her face grew old.
Her skin began to crease and fold
Like olives set aside to dry
For winter. She’d no longer try
To travel back to Asher’s land –
She had arthritis in her hand,
And in her knees, and in her spine.
Her neighbors blamed it on the time
She spent all hunched down on the floor
Behind a little hidden door
Inside the house of God. She’d pray …
And skip at least a meal a day.
“O God our help in ages past*,
Come now, and heed this widow’s fast.
Come, bring the light to Asher’s hills …
And also to
this town that kills
The prophets and the men of God –
This city where the peasants plod,
Where harlots play their games of chance,
And priestly phonies march and prance.
Reverse our fortunes, ever grim!
O God, redeem Jerusalem!”
Each day she’d hide behind that door
And plant her knees into the floor
In hopes that answered prayers would grow
Like olive clumps so long ago
In Asher. And she’d make the walk,
In her mind’s eye, and hear him talk
Again – her father Phanuel.
Some days she thought she almost smelled
His cloak, all fragrant from the herds.
At times, she thought she heard his words:
For unto us a Child is bornTo hide our shame and bear our scorn.For Israel’s glory comes a Child,And for Galilee’s lost Gentiles.Just when you think all hope is gone,Then comes the Savior’s blessed dawn!And then, one day, she did! She heard,
As, clear as day, her father’s words:
For Israel’s glory comes a Child,And for Galilee’s lost Gentiles.“My dad’s been gone for sixty years”
She thought, her eyes now filled with tears
Of joy. “Who could it be?” she said.
A thousand thoughts ran through her head.
And then she flung the door all wide –
And there, amidst the pomp and pride,
A simple man, holding a child.
“Our light is no longer exiled”
He said. “My eyes have seen the King –
The end to all our suffering
And sin.”
“He’s right” said Anna now,
And curved her back into a bow.
“Isaiah put it best” she said.
Our hopes and dreams, as good as deadFrom sin that covered us with nightHave given way to glorious light.Then Anna took Him on her knees –
The answer to her years of pleas;
The hope for Asher’s barren hills,
And for Jerusalem that kills.
She ran her fingers through His hair
And said, now with a close-up stare:
Now, those whose land is grayed with blightWill see a great and glorious light;And those benighted in this landWill dwell no more on shifting sand.For unto us a Child is bornTo hide our shame and bear our scorn.Just when you think all hope is gone,Then comes the Savior’s blessed dawn!So widows: Hope when hope seems vain,
And when you’re overwhelmed with pain.
Like Anna, wait and watch and pray.
A Husband comes to be your stay.
And children: Hope when parents die.
A Father comes to wipe your eye.
So make you parent’s faith your own,
And be like Anna when you’re grown.
And parents: Take them on your knees
And put their little souls at ease.
Tell them: “I know this land is bare,
And people live without a care,
And sin is ripe and faith seems gone,
But look out for Messiah’s dawn!
*This line, of course, comes from Isaac Watts's great hymn by the same title.
