Shepherd’s Song at Christmas
by Langston Hughes (1932)
Look there at the star!
I, among the least,
Will arise and take
A journey to the East.
But what shall I bring
As a present for the King?
What shall I bring to the Manger?
I will bring a song,
A song that I will sing,
In the Manger.
Watch out for my flocks,
Do not let them stray.
I am going on a journey
Far, far away.
But what shall I bring
As a present for the Child?
What shall I bring to the Manger?
I will bring a lamb,
Gentle, meek, and mild,
A lamb for the Child
In the Manger.
I’m just a shepherd boy,
Very poor I am—–
But I know there is
A King in Bethlehem.
What shall I bring
As a present just for Him?
What shall I bring to the Manger?
I will bring my heart
And give my heart to Him.
I will bring my heart
To the Manger.
We all wonder how we can express gratitude to God for the great gift of Jesus Christ. The shepherds in the fields received God’s announcement (annunciation) and greeted Jesus’ arrival (advent). We can do the same by opening our hearts and minds to what God is communicating to us and rejoice in the One who is always arriving in our lives.
Poet and playwright Langston Hughes (1902-1967) was a leader of the Harlem Renaissance and, as a journalist, was a significant figure in the civil rights movement. It’s moving to read about his desire to give his heart to Jesus, in the midst of his own (in the poem) poverty and (in his life) challenging circumstances as an African-American.
We are invited by God to come as we are. Scripture tells us that what God is seeking is our open, contrite hearts (Ps. 51:17 which we “set to seek” God (2 Chron. 30:19). Hughes also invites us to give our heart to the Holy One.
In my experience as a spiritual director, I’ve become increasingly keen on the concept of heart. Heart is a word that I haven’t thought about much during my life. I don’t hear much about it in religious circles, nor does it get much play in the social sciences and the psychotherapeutic arts. It’s got an old-fashioned ring to it, slightly Victorian and sentimental. It certainly was never mentioned in a single social science class I took.
When I listen to the contemporary conversation about spirituality, I’m struck that it lacks the biblical wisdom about the texture and contradictions of our hearts’ desires and stirrings. I want to retrieve the concept of heart from the domain of romance and return it to its central place in our relationship with God.
Christianity calls us to cardiac care. The word “heart” appears in the Bible nearly 600 times. It is central to understanding our relationship with God, and appears in our Scripture from Genesis to Revelation.
We were created with independent hearts, in the image of a God with a heart. In Genesis 6:5-6 God sees that “every inclination of the thoughts of their [our] hearts was only evil continually…and it grieved him to his heart.” God’s heart longs for us to draw close, as the Son draws close the Father, yet we often turn away. God evaluates us in terms of our hearts, and in Revelation 2:23 says, not for the first time, “‘I am the one who searches minds and hearts.’” Scripture tells us that God studies and knows our hearts (literally, is a cardionostician; see Acts 1:24, 15:8).
When God searches our hearts, God discovers the desires of our hearts. Desires are the inclinations of our hearts (e.g., Paul writes of his heart’s desire in Rom. 10:1; Ps. 22:1 also refers to the heart’s desire). Our desires are also the sphere of divine scrutiny and influence in our lives. Proverbs 27:19 tells us that “As water reflects a face, so a heart reflects the person.” God attends to our hearts. He also changes our hearts, guides them, and receives from and forgives those whose hearts are turned toward him (for example, Ex. 25:2; 1 Kings 8:38).
King David, an exemplar of prayer, attended to his heart. We read that he was a man of upright heart. He sought God with all his heart. The Psalms exist as a record of his doing so. They are his prayers, his turning of his heart towards God. David is a theologian of the heart, and the Psalms are the written record of his discipline:
The Lord puts joy in his heart (4:7), and
his heart instructs him and God probes it at night (16:7; 17:3).
His heart doesn’t fear because God is his light (27:3);
his heart sings to God though he had been in mourning (30:12).
He also suffers in his heart: It melts like wax (22:14);
it grows faint (61:2);
it’s wounded, pierced (109:22);
and sometimes it fails (40:12).
But David trusts that God accepts a broken and contrite heart as an acceptable sacrifice (51:17).
Langston Hughes, Jesus’ mother, and the shepherds all trust that our hearts are acceptable gifts to carry to God. May you be assured of that, too, as you pay attention to all the movements of your own heart during this season of when we remind ourselves to await Jesus’ arrival.
We at New College Berkeley wish you and yours much joy this Christmas!
Susan S. Phillips, Ph.D. is executive director of New College Berkeley and professor of Christian Spirituality at the Graduate Theological Union.