Holiday ABC's

E = Elves Perhaps I should preface this by saying that my maternal lineage is from Wales and, to be more specific, from near Stonehenge (a very magical place) and a little village named….wait for it….”Elf’s Hole.” That fact known, I’m a HUGE fan of the elves and truth be told, Christmas isn’t the only time when elves are busy in the affairs of the world….I’m just sayin’……

F = Family The holidays/holy days are a time for family. We remain a close clan and gather to tell the grand stories of family lore. The photo in this post came precariously close to being a family photo Christmas card. You can dress up the Snyders...yet, you can't let the photo out into the public domain.....

G = Gifts Several years ago, I was in a big, local shopping mall, my arms full of items to be purchased and gifted and waiting in a long line. There was an air of surliness beginning to stir. The woman in front of me, she, also weighted down with an assortment of treasures, turned to me and said, “Those damn wisemen.” And so it goes…….

H = Hark It’s the first word of one of the most well-known Christmas carols – “Hark the Herald Angels Sing,” yet, what in the world and the heavens does it mean? Hark means to listen. Perfect. Listen to the message the angels bring of the Gift given. Listen to the sounds of the season. Listen to your own heart. This Christmas time may you have many silent nights in which to listen.

sj;

A lesson on light

It’s been some time since I’ve posted and the alphabet has stalled. It’s not that I don’t have words to go with the letters. It’s that I had to pause for awhile after the tragedy that befell Newtown, CT and our nation.

In this deep loss and continued sorrow, as photos and stories of the likes and dreams of the victims of this horror continue, I find it important to look for where there is light and dwell there.

We are reminded of the truth that to know and appreciate the light we have to know the darkness.

This season, is a time for lights.

On Sunday, the Gospel reading was from John the first chapter and the author’s prologue to his account of the Jesus story in which he writes, “the light shines in the darkness and the darkness shall never overcome it.” Pastor Heather used this as the basis for her little lesson and asked the gaggle of girls and boys seated on the steps with her where it is that they see light. “The sun,” answered one. “My flashlight,” said another. “The candles, “ observed a little boy. And….on and on and on……to the point where they had so many more answers for where they see light that Pastor Heather wisely said that she would walk with them to Extended Session so they each could keep talking and sharing.

I can think of no better reminder of where to look for the light than with the children.

Watch, this light.

Gather around this light.

Follow, this light.

Protect this light…

this light is our most precious treasure…..

sj;

Holiday ABC's.....

A = Advent. The word is from the Latin, “adventus,” and means arrival. Think about any time when you have waited for your child to come home from college; for the visit from someone you have not seen in a while; for a baby. Of course, there is excitement and apprehension. One busies one’s self with all kinds of preparation. Often we do so much and are so focused on the big moment of arrival that we fail to enjoy the journey to the big day. Advent re-minds us to pay attention and enjoy all the details and all the preparation and pause to ask, “Why am I doing this?”

B = Baby. Of course, at the center of the Christmas story is a baby. One of the congregations where I served as pastor had a tradition that as part of the Christmas Eve worship service one of the children would be selected to serve as a kind of mini-Mary and bring the Baby Jesus to the manger and then let the celebration begin. For this congregation and the parents of small children, this was a big deal and significant honor. I never really knew, and never wanted to know, how the child was selected; I just knew the kid dressed in a blue bathrobe, with a white towel tied with a blue sash upon her head and asked to carry the ceramic baby Jesus and lay him in the manger was the centerpiece of Christmas Eve worship.
Little Angelina had the honors. She was all of three years old and, trust me; the grandness of the occasion was lost on her. Properly adorned, she kind of trudged, kind of lumbered up the aisle swinging so strongly the ceramic baby Jesus that he was dangerously close to becoming unswaddled. The congregation was in silence save for the “oohs” and “aahs” as Angelina stomped up the altar steps, approached the manger, and with both hands grabbed the ceramic baby Jesus and threw him into the manger. This hurl of the heaven-sent resulted in a loud clang and echoing thud. I’m sure there was some deeper metaphor that should have come to me, yet, all I had was laughter.

C = Cookies. Other than making cookies for a wedding, this is the season when family and friends gather to make some dough….cookies that is. As a kid, I remember my Aunt Jean coming over and with my Mom making incredible homemade nut rolls and snowballs. I still fondly recall being given a spoonful of the rich nut filling and how the first cookie from the batch always tasted the best. Part of the joy of the season is gathering together to make cookies and then putting together cookie trays to share with friends and family. Trust me, Saint Nick isn’t the only one appeased by a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

D = Dolls. Say what??? Yep, dolls. When my father’s sister would come by at Christmas time bearing gifts for her three nephews and two nieces, every year I hoped my gift would be something…anything… different. My brothers always got great sports-stuff: footballs, great games that involved baseball cards, etc. I don’t recall what my sister got, yet, every year my aunt got me… a baby doll. I’m talking a big, two-foot tall, dressed in lace and finery baby doll. My parents raised me to be polite, so I always said thank you, sat the still-in-the-box-doll down and went to play with my brothers’ stuff. For all I know, there may still be a never opened doll in the attic.

sj;