Yesterday the grandkids were over to bake sugar cookies and paint ornaments. What a joyful afternoon!
Sean, the 7-year old was studying the Advent wreath on the coffee table and could tell some candles had been lit. He asked if we were celebrating Hannukah. Sigh.
So the four of us got in a huddle and lit the first three candles. I told them about the Prophets and the candle of Hope, the Shepherds' candle of Faith, and Mary's candle of Joy. We sang, "Away in a a Manger" and that was enough. Except for the 4-year-old, Beeboo, who, clearly anticipating the fourth candle, asked, "What about the Fairies?"
"Angels," I corrected.
Pastor Peter mentioned this morning that amid all the hubbub of Secular Christmas, this time of morning worship was our chance to be quiet and listen for the voice of God in the stillness. And in the prayers and Scripture and sermon, in the image of the shepherds in the field keeping watch over their flocks by night, there was a moment when I did have that sense of stillness.
I'm glad for that moment of stillness. This week is going to be a humdinger with four visits to the doctor, a great-grandson who has started having seizures, a family gathering at our house, presents still to buy and budgets to stretch, and two family members going into the hospital before Christmas.
And what can we do about the children being gassed, starved and dehydrated and locked in cages at the border? Or the babies to teenagers stolen from their parents, lost or locked up--15,000 children in detention camps, thousands in tents in the desert. All of these things add to the whirl and anxiety of Christmas this year.
But focus: Back in the day, who got a personal invitation to see the newborn "God-with-Us?"
Yes, as Pastor Peter said, it was the low class shepherds, low income, uneducated working joes, terrified by their encounter with the Divine. Ever notice how the first thing Angels always say, is, "Fear not!" (Angels are not little and cute like Fairies, Beeboo.) Frankly, I'm impressed that the Shepherds, after such a hair-raising experience with the Army of Heaven, had the courage to say, "Well, let's go see." And then they did, finding the Savior in a barn.
Pastor Peter briefly addressed the coming of the Magi, the wealthy, educated, politically-connected foreign scientists who found their invitation written in the stars. I'd like to hear a sermon focusing on them, too.
What I'm left with this afternoon is, though, who are we inviting for Christmas? No, whom am I inviting, and what, who, will they find when they come? What will we be doing when Jesus walks in the door?