Dear Friends,

“A Visit from St. Nicholas” is the original title of “The Night Before Christmas” by Clement Clarke Moore. Moore’s poem did much to contribute to the development of the figure we now know as Santa Claus. But as our children learned on Sunday December 6th, the tradition of St. Nicholas is much older. A visit to the Godly Play class from this fourth century bishop,  who bore passing resemblance to Steve Spinetto, taught them about a generous and kind Christian who tradition says lived out his faith in a time of struggle and persecution.

As we confront the challenges and struggles of our own day, it is more and more important that we become a community that knows the richness of our past, so that we are formed and shaped by the faithfulness of saints who have gone before us – and by “saints” I mean all believers.

We are also formed by the experiences of each other, living out our faith as the Body of Christ in this time and place. One of you commented the other week about how grateful you are that your children have “grandparents” here in this church. They are no replacement for grandparents living afar, but they offer themselves as guides, as teachers, or as someone in whose lap a child can sit at Coffee Hour and have a story read to her.

On some Sundays, you may not consider it important for you to make the effort to get to church. But have you ever thought that your presence might be essential to someone else who is here that day?

I was grateful to see a saint from the past last Sunday, and I am grateful for the saints I see every Sunday. Our stories merge with the saints before us in common worship and witness to God. Perhaps one of our younger members realized that, when two years ago, she came into church for communion after a visit from St. Nicholas.  As people came to the altar, she noticed Steve Spinetto walking forward, and said excitedly,  “Mom! He looks just like St. Nicholas!”

Faithfully,

Tom

Dear Friends,

In the aftermath of the terrorist acts in Paris, the colors of the
French flag were suddenly appearing everywhere – on landmarks such as the Empire State Building and the Sydney Opera House, and all around the world.  Those of us who spend time on Facebook had the option of editing our profile pictures to display the tricolors. In the midst of unspeakable horror, people looked for ways to express compassion, solidarity, and support for the people of  France.

Of course, terrorism is not limited to France, and other cities that have suffered recently, such as Beirut and Ankara, are now being lifted up  as communities with whom we can connect, demonstrating our love, our support, and our prayers.  We hear of traumatic acts of destruction, and if nothing else seems possible, we find some way in which to say, “We identify with you – we love you, and we will do what we can to support you.”

In the proclamation of the Gospel – the Good News of Jesus Christ – one can see something similar happening. In the life of Jesus, people beheld a charismatic rabbi who taught, healed, and both inspired and provoked others. The people around him saw a a person, who, like every other human being, faced all of the challenges of life, who lived, and who died. But for those who heard and believed, there was another truth that emerged. They saw nothing less than God’s very self made manifest in human form.

In Jesus Christ we see God, taking on every aspect of human life, from the deepest joys possible, to the lowest form of suffering and abandonment – as if God were saying, “I identify with you. I love you. And I will do everything to support you.”  God took on a human face in the person of Jesus. Like the colors we adopt to show our solidarity and compassion for others, we discover again and again the compassion that God has for us – not in the colors of a flag, but in the countenance of Jesus.

Faithfully,

Tom