They left the bridge of hell. It was like stepping into another world. A sweet smell filled the air with the scent of jasmine and basil. They followed the scent which became stronger. Brother Martin could smell roses mixed with geranium. He felt as if he was sitting in the church lost in prayers. His heart was filled with strength and he felt the ground under his feet. He heard voices moving through the fog of the autumn night. The voices touched him like the sun beams in the early morning.
A group of men dressed in white habits appeared in the mist. They were shepherds coming from Mount Mary. The oldest of the shepherds said.
“We have seen the Morning Star rising in the sky moving to Saint Peter. We want to spend Christmas with our brothers and sisters.
Brother Martin folded his hands:
“Glory to the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Welcome to Saint Peter pilgrims from Mount Mary.” He felt as if a heavy stone had fallen from around his neck, leaving him lighter.
Never had the name of Saint Peter sounded so beautiful to him and the sound of voices so sweet. He wanted to embrace the shepherd and kiss them. Hell and Heaven were so close, he thought.
Brother Martin’s smile was contagious. It came from deep down his heart and radiate like a sun beam. He laughed and said.
“I am a pilgrim of God too and I am on the way to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. We have lost our way but if you help me, we can find the way together.”
“Why are you crying?” asked Brother Thomas who stood behind Brother Martin with the rope still tied around his waist.
Saint Nicolas Visits the Orphans
Time stood still in Saint Peter. Winter rose into the season. A deadly quietness was spreading over the village. Nothing grew anymore. Nature was dead. The beautiful colors of the cherry tree in front of the church which had been blossoming in white and juicy purple had been carried away by the cold winter wind. The songs of the birds which had risen with the sun were fading in the melancholic days of winter. The sweet melodies of nature reaching the hearts of human beings in the darkest chambers of their existence to rescue their souls appeared to have left the earth.
The forest stood black and calm over the village of Saint Peter. The winter had thrown an iron blanket on the earth suffocating life. White clouds rose from the lawns into the cold winter night.
“Only two lights left to Christmas,” said Rafael who was looking at the rock with the candles. He was sitting in the wheel chair Jack had built for him. Rafael had a special gift. He could read souls and see what really mattered to people. He did not get irritated when somebody was angry or sad because he could see the cause of the anger. He liked listening to people’s stories. Rafael was smiling. He went to Verena.
“You know, Sister Verena…..” He looked up at the mother of the orphans.
“We do not need the morning star to lighten Christmas. You are the light shining in our hearts.”
Verena smiled.
“That is the most beautiful compliment ever given to me,” she replied.
Verena had not told the children that the Morning Star would not arrive and that the world was stuck in darkness. No Christ to wake up nature from its deep winter sleep and guide the souls to heaven. Nobody to heal and give new hope as Jesus Christ had gone with the Morning Star.
“The whole village of Saint Peter will shine with lights at Christmas. There will be not one child left in darkness because we will be walking through heaven with Jesus Christ,” said Verena.
“We will soon run out of candles,” said Marc who had overheard the conversation.
“When all lights have gone and there is only darkness, Jesus Christ is still shining in our hearts,” said Rafael.
The fog crept over the mountains into the valley. The village of Saint Peter disappeared in the clouds. The clouds wrapped the village into a white scarf deep into the morning.
Advent was fading out and Christmas was about to start. When Christmas Eve arrived the flame of Christmas was almost extinct in the hearts of the children.
A woman dressed in a black robe walked through the narrow streets of Saint Peter in the evening. The path was covered with snow. Her head was bent toward the ground. She moved quickly as if she was looking for something. The village was shrouded in darkness and sinking into one the darkest nights of the year. The whole world appeared to be sinking slowly like a dying body on the bottom of the ocean. Most people did not dare to leave their houses. They felt threatened by the darkness, as though something terrible would happen soon. When she opened the heavy wooden door and entered the church, she felt as if she was entering into a ship lying on the ocean floor, something desolate and ruined.
Saint Peter’s church always changed its character in the stream of the liturgical year, but it had never appeared so sad to her. Verena walked deeper into the church. She felt as if she was swimming with a whale to the bottom of the ocean. A picture of Jonas and the whale appeared in her mind.
A light came from the chapel. The statue of the black Madonna appeared in the shrine at the east wing of the church. She looked into the face of the Madonna, whose intercession had given so much hope to people. The statue was encompassed by twelve candles looking like stars in the night. Verena could see the smile of a little child in the face of the statue. Her appearance changed into the face of a mother mourning over her child. Tears were rolling over her golden brown cheeks. The Madonna was dressed in a blue garment with a white seam. Her face was pointed to the ceiling as if she was passing the prayers to God. The Madonna was holding Jesus Christ in her arms. The blue garment looked like a wave flowing through the dark church carrying lights to the shore. Verena looked into the eyes of the Madonna. It was like a pilgrimage to a Holy Shrine where she met the people of the congregation. She was in a state of weightlessness sinking deeper in the earth. As Verena traveled deeper through her inner world everything became quiet and she remained in a trance-like state.
A light appeared in the stained glass at the east window. The light of a lantern fell into the church like the light of the Evening Star. The screaming of children followed soon afterwards. She could hear the runners of a sledge gliding over the snow. A man dressed in a red robe with a grey beard sat on the sledge. The breath of the horses steamed in the night as they ran. The man stood up holding the reigns in his hands.
“Brrrr…,” said the men pulling the reigns back. The horses slowed down. The sledge came to a halt in front of Saint Peter’s church. Verena left the church. The man appeared like a figure from a dream. The sledge was fully packed.
“Where am I?” asked the man in a deep voice.
“You are in Saint Peter,” said Verena.
The old man was smiling.
“I have been persecuted by the soldiers of Diocletian who want to steal Christmas gifts from the children of this world,” said the old man putting the reins on the wooden bench of his sledge.
“Who are you?” asked Verena.
“I am Nicolas of Patara. I come in peace to announce the birth of Jesus Christ.” He jumped from his sledge.
“I am tired from escaping from my enemies and I need to rest.”
“You can stay in Saint Peter. Our church is the resting place for all persecuted people of this world,” replied Verena.
The children who had followed the sledge through the village were watching the old man with fear and veneration. The doubts made way for admiration and the children came closer to the smiling man.
“Many of your prayers have become true. Others need to wait a bit longer. What you pray becomes real one day. Your prayers are the gifts of the future generations. Without prayers there is no future. I brought you the gifts of the future which will grow into important ventures in the world of tomorrow.” Nicolas took one gift after the other from his big brown bag.
Saint Nicolas told them the passage in the Bible to which the toys belonged. Some of the toys looked like vehicles that could travel through the air, earth and sea. There were al
so carvings of the Holy Family among the presents and angels.
The children were happy and that was all that mattered at the moment.
The following days went by but there was no sign of the Morning Star. The winter darkness took hold of the village of Saint Peter. Christmas came closer without any sign of joy and happiness. It was as if the feast had fallen over a cliff into an abyss. The people were still gathering in the church, which became a place of hope. They sat peacefully praying for the return of the company of the Morning Star.
The hours passed slowly without any sign of the men. When the church bells rang at Christmas Eve all hope was gone. Despite the doom and gloom the people of Saint Peter gathered in the church to celebrate the beginning of Christmas. Verena and Catherine were among the first to go to the church followed by the children of the orphanage. People from the village came gradually into the church, which stood like a ship in a harbor ready to go on a voyage.
Each ceremony was an exploration into the mind to find a new spiritual island. The visions emerged suddenly like a dolphin coming to the surface to gasp for air after a long journey through the ocean. Saint Peter church had always been the last resort. Everybody found shelter in the church and shared their intimate joy with God. Saint Peter was the centre of the liturgical celebrations flowing like a spiritual river through the minds of people. It was the place where dreams were born. Tears of sorrow turned into tears of joy touched by the invisible hands of God. There was always somebody in church praying for somebody. It was never dark in the church of Saint Peter. There was always a light shining. Expectations were very high at Christmas when dreams were flying into the seventh heaven to welcome the new-born King, Jesus Christ.
The colors of the stained window fell on the floor. The appearance changed like the leaves of a tree during the seasons. The colors of the biblical paintings transformed the church into a sea of dreams.
The wooden door opened with a squeaky sound. Little Catherine and Marc stood in the church entrance.
“Come with us! We have just lit the candle for Christmas,” said Ruth.
Everybody followed her to the rock with the Christmas candles. It was as if the rock was burning from a distance it looked like a heavenly waterfall. In the centre of the rock was a manger. The children had found an old Christmas play in the cellar of Saint Peter. They had decorated the empty space with the Nativity play.
The congregation went back to the church. Verena and Catherine knelled in front of the altar both praying for the save return of Christian. The snow flakes were falling in the cold winter evening as Verena and Catherine prayed in front of the altar.
The flame on the wooden altar was jumping in excitement but nobody seemed to take notice. Some people tried to remember the encouraging words of Brother George filling the church of Saint Peter and their hearts. Brother George had dared to march through the darkest hell to rescue the Morning Star which kept the congregation alive. His words reflected the coming of Christ with the star as a sign of victory over evil. The star was no longer a tool of Venus and Lucifer to suppress people. It had become a tool of Christ to liberate people and to bring joy and hope.
Brother Benedict, Martin and Thomas and the shepherds walked over the plains. The air was cold and dry after the snow fall. The earth was dying in the late winter night. Brother Martin stared into the mountains. Christian walked next to him. He could see a light gaining in strength and moving towards the river. The light disappeared behind a hill in the far distance. The men were close to Saint Peter following the way of Brother Benedict and Brother Leo and the company of the Morning Star.
They came to a green meadow. Brother Benedict recognized the area. His father had taken him to a mountain fair when he was a little boy. He remembered the day of the fair as if it was yesterday. The shepherds had left their secluded homes in the mountains to go to the fair. It was a lovely spring day. Winter had just passed and everybody was looking forward to seeing each other at the fair. The way home to Saint Peter rose in his mind. He followed the river smiling and remembering the spring fair.
“As long as there was a memory, the world was not lost.”
They arrived on a hill overlooking Saint Peter which looked like an eagle’s nest from the distance. Another light was coming from behind. The source of the light was not recognizable but it came from the far North.
A beggar stood next to the gate of Saint Peter. He had come from a village far away to celebrate Christmas. Tired from the journey, Brother Martin climbed down from his horse and went to the beggar who was half naked in this cold winter night. He took his coat off his shoulders and cut it into half with his sword he had been given by Brother George. He gave one half of his coat to the beggar, saying:
“Christ is born. Nobody needs to stay in the cold night. Come with us to Saint Peter and celebrate Christmas with us.”
Martin helped the beggar to cover himself with the coat.
The beggar laughed of joy when he felt the warm cloth covering his body like the snow on the earth.
The Morning Star Rises over Saint Peter
In the back of the church was a big, bleak window facing to the north revealing the mountain of death in the far distance. The mountains seemed to move closer crushing the church. The grey mountains looked like waves in the dark black sky, rolling towards the church.
Icons of the twelve Stations of the Cross from the Last Supper to the crucifixion of Christ on Mount Golgotha lined the cavernous walls of the church to the dark window.
Catherine looked on the altar and then on the burning candles on the ground. The esteem of the community was chattered. Everybody was praying trusting in God. As they were praying a spark fell through the dark window in the north. The light grew bigger and wandered through the church to the altar. Nobody noticed the light until it hit the altar facing Mount Jesus.
The light trailed over the crucifix. It rested on the head of Jesus Christ crowned with thorns leaning to the left and down. Suddenly Jesus Christ lifted his head and opened his eyes. People were mesmerized by the miracle and looked around. A streaming light like the tail of a star growing stronger and stronger came through the stained–glass windows, flooding the church with color, like the awakening of the flowers in the early spring sun. People were looking at each other in bewilderment.
Jack stood up and opened the wooden door of the church. The star became bigger and mightier and poured its light over the mountains.
“It’s the Morning Star, said Catherine full of joy.
Brother Julian stood on the rock of Mount Joseph holding the Morning Star in the dark night sky. Maurice and George were next to him. Julian looked like an angel carrying a star from heaven to earth. Brother Benedict, Martin and Thomas stood in front of the church of Saint Peter smiling at the victorious men who had rescued the Morning Star from the castle of Queen Jezebel.
The candles in the church flickered in excitement as the Company of the Morning Star came closer and closer to the church. Then the big wooden church door opened with a squeal.
Brother George, Maurice and Julian stood underneath the entrance of the church like angels bringing a message from God. Brother George was holding the Morning Star in his right hand. They walked towards the altar followed by the monks of Saint Peter and the soldiers of Maurice. Christian was in their midst. The lady from the Mountains was laughing and then crying and fell into the arms of her son.
“Christian is home again,” said Jack welcoming him back into the community.
Everybody gathered around the Lady of the Mountain and her son.
Brother George fixed the morning star on top of the tree of life illuminating the Christmas decorations in the church. The star was shining on the manger with baby Jesus and the Holy Family.
“Tomorrow is Christmas; the birth of our savior Jesus Christ. Let us all celebrate,” said the abbot who stood right in front of the altar.
The alter candle was burning vividly as if it wanted to join in the ex
citement of the congregation.
Hally, the shepherd dog, stood next to the manger. Animals were allowed in the church during Christmas. Jesus Christ was born not only to protect humans against their perpetrators but also animals.
The abbot said to the monks gathering around him:
“Go to the monastery and open the food banks. Bring us the best food you can find. We want to celebrate the arrival of our Lord, Jesus Christ together.”
“But it is not Christmas yet. It is only Christmas Eve,” said Brother Thomas.
“Then let us celebrate the return of our lost son, Christian, together with the arrival of the Morning Star. He, who loves Jesus Christ has always something to celebrate,” said the abbot.
The children were expectantly watching the presence under the Christmas tree.
“I thought you had given us all our presents!” said Marc to Nicolas.
“Not all. I have got some more. These presents are from your parents in heaven, who gave their lives so we can be free,” said Nicolas.
The children picked up the presents scattered around the Christmas tree. It was as if their dreams were wrapped in the presents. They were playing with dolls, wooden carriers and sledges cheerfully. Marc was sitting on the church bench. Verena came to him and asked:
“Why do you not play with your toy?” she asked him
“There was no toy for me,” replied Marc.
Nicolas went to Verena and said to her in a whispering voice:
“I am so sorry. His present was stolen by the soldiers of Diocletian.”
“But I promise, another gift will be here soon. It should arrive before the feast of Epiphany.”
Steve and Brother Benedict helped to prepare the meals in the kitchen of the church. Brother Benedict was tired from the journey and started to fall asleep in the chair.
“Go to bed!” said Sister Verena.
“I do not want to miss the midnight mass. I have not missed one mass in the last twenty,” said Brother Benedict.
Everybody was busy helping to prepare the Christmas meals. The women of Saint Peter had baked cakes and ginger bread before Christmas. The children were watching the table in the middle of the church hall getting filled with delicious food.