Wonderings--December 20

 Its Christmas Week and I am a mixture of emotions. 

Certainly there is great joy and excitement to lead worship at Bethesda for the first time on Christmas Eve. I am excited to experience the passion of "Silent Night" under the stars--weather permitting. Anticipation is all around me as I think about celebrating the sacrament for the first time here with a warm, welcoming family. Their welcome and care for us has been so amazing. But. . . 

There is a great sadness in our home too. 

Saying good-bye to Bella, our Maltese, has been very hard for us. Emma and Jennifer are struggling so much with this. Bella was Jennifer's dream girl. So faithful. So loving. So ever-present. Dogs have been blessed with a special gift from God. They occupy a place in us that is so unique and so vital. Unconditional love and joy when we come home. Bella filled in that space completely. I can close my eyes and hear the pitter-padder of her feet trotting down the hall.

And yet, it is Christmas Week. . . Jesus is coming again into creation. His birth signals how God is moving to welcome us back home. He is choosing to be with us when he could choose otherwise.  

Joy and Sadness coming together on Christmas week. In that painful place, I believe we can find Christ, the Baby being born for us. There is presence that overcomes and overwhelms and support us when the joy and the suffering come together. 

Presence says: 

"I don't know what this is, what this means, how deep this goes, how damaging this may be; it could all be over tomorrow, it may last a lifetime; it may keep getting worse, it may go in phases, it may be bad at the start and then alleviate. I have no idea. But I'm here whichever course it takes, and my companionship doesn't depend on which course it takes. In the unknown and dismay and distress of this sickness, some things can be relied upon. If you need to, you can start budding from there."

This is the gift of presence and the gift that God makes possible for us in the Incarnation of Jesus Christ. Jesus comes to us, quietly, without fanfare, and he abides. His birth creates the room for us to dwell together in places of joy (like when we sing carols together), and when we suffering (or say good-bye to someone we love so dearly).

Perhaps that's the true miracle of Christmas--presence created for us all. No mater where we are at emotionally or relationally. . . 

I wonder, who could you share the presence of Christ with today? I wonder what might happen if you offered them the same level of presence?

Blessings

Rev. Derek