The Crib:
Jesus, you were born from water and blood. You laid your head on splintered wood, your first crib a rough-hewn and makeshift bed that held your vulnerable body in the nighttime. Amid animals and under stars, your human nature revealed light and justice to the world, affirming human vulnerability. For centuries before your incarnation, the world ached for your majesty, your compassion, and your life. Tucked away amid poverty, you were born of human nature, though without sin. You were filled with integrity, joy, and the possibility that we could rest with you as your followers under the stars of night. You lay on unvarnished wood in the silence of your parents, who wondered how to care for you amid threats to your very existence.
Your crib, Lord, still holds mystery in our lives, for we wait for you in Advent to be born within us. Even though our hearts become splintered and our priorities are rough-hewn, come and be born in our human longing. May our hearts become your crib. Come, Lord, when our fear keeps us from surrendering to you, when the world tells us we can survive on our own. Come to us when the noise of sin and violence fills this silent night. Show us the stars of heaven when the darkness of doubt overwhelms us. May we hear your tiny whisper in the chaos of struggle and inner violence, in the confusion of daily life. May we be warmed by your voice and your tender presence. Help us hear you and long for you in nighttime and in daylight. This Advent, Lord, do not forget us even in our unfaithfulness, for we believe your mercy remains forever.
Jesus, help us this Advent to enter humbly into the mystery of your birth. Our ancestors waited for you in the world. John the Baptist heralded your coming, and he pointed his entire life into the direction of the Father’s kingdom. Help us persevere in our faith with kindness and joy. Help us remain humble even when we so often long to control life’s situations, outcomes, and relationships. We wait this Advent, Jesus, for you to strip away our regrets and our disappointments, and to help us heal our families and relationships. Lord, mend our fragile hearts. Help us live the truth of our existence in the richness of your care for us. Within our lives we know your crib was not only the wood that held your body, it was the beginning of how you offered us all of heaven right here on earth.
The Cross:
Jesus, you died on the wood of the cross. Water and blood flowed from your side. You revealed your second birth after your torturous death. We adore the wood of the cross because we now see our salvation in your resurrection. Lord, the heavy wood upon which your body hung shows us that life may become horrific and burdensome, heavy and beyond our control, yet your passion and death reveal to us that death gives way to life. Show us how to move beyond such pain, Jesus, even in these Advent days when our souls long for mercy, to move beyond our sins of injustice, war, hunger, and homelessness. Our only hope is in your cross.
Jesus, the wood of your cross reimagined an instrument of death. The wood becomes for us a place of rich life, and of the possibility of eternal life. You leaned on wood many times in your earthly ministry. You fell asleep in a wooden boat during a storm amid your disciples’ fear, when your followers thought you did not care about their safety. You called Zaccheaus down from a tree that you leaned against to challenge him to a different life. You called your disciples to pick up their crosses and follow you long before they watched you die on such wood. The mystery of your death still clings to our souls in this Advent season.
Lord Jesus, we honor your birth and your second birth in the sacred Eucharist. We hold the mystery of your Incarnation and the Resurrection in our hearts. You teach us that such a mystery is not just for our own souls but for the salvation of the world. Lord, in this Advent, our eyes are wide open to the issues of war and violence, to the reality of poverty and the lack of affordable healthcare. In Advent, we are reminded of your human and divine nature. Your presence reveals the dignity of all people as we listen to the cries of those starving for food and shelter. Your divine love reveals the need to maintain our oceans and rivers and even the air we breathe. Jesus, as we approach Christmas, open our eyes to a new vision of your care for our family’s needs and for the people of every race and nation. Help us enjoy the fires of your love around the hearth within our home as you bring consolation to the world that is home to every living being.
Jesus, the wood of your crib and the wood of your cross become the birthplace of hope for all humanity. May justice spring forth from our faith in you. May your love change our hearts to show the world that you remain here for all eternity.
Amen
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
About:
Rev. Ronald Patrick Raab, CSC serves as religious superior of Holy Cross House, our retirement and medical facility at Notre Dame, Indiana. He is an award-winning author, blogger and visual artist. Learn more: ronaldraab.com
Artwork:
Fr. Ron created this image in 2026. Fr. Ron’s artwork has been published in parishes, dioceses, and ecumenical settings around the world.
Provided by Rev. Ronald P. Raab, C.S.C., November 2026.
