Celebrating Christmas

A. Unabashed Pacifist:

“The man said I should watch out for the enemy. I been watchin’ for almost 60 years, but I’ve never seen an enemy.”

B. Unabashed Christian:

Holy One,

It’s hard to hear you when we surround ourselves with noise. You speak quietly, in a whisper, to persuade and encourage, not to shout orders or directions.

True, we can hear you in spite of the din of our battles and our competitive struggles to build memorials to ourselves. But when we step into your Garden of Earth, we sense the futility of all that. We come home to your waiting arms and hear your voice whisper – in the trees, birds, streams, ocean, insects or desert stillness: “I love you.”
Amen

C. Un-quoting Jesus:

“Mary, how can I give you five gold rings? Three turtle doves I could afford, but not five gold rings!”

[No, He didn’t say it. But my hunch is we astonish Him with what we’ve attached to celebrating His birth.]

D. Blog: Jesus? Homeless?

When did we see Jesus homeless?

Bobby Sax, long-time street musician in our town, plus the friend he was living with, lost everything when their house-trailer burned about a week ago. “Everything” included Bobby’s four saxophones that helped him earn a simple living.

In response to the news story about Bobby’s loss, contributions of money, assistance, and at least one saxophone have flowed to ease the men’s pain and shock, and restore their hope. I expect to hear Bobby’s jazzy saxophone next time I go downtown.

Sometimes, sometimes, we do see Jesus in the homeless and make the compassionate response.