Is There a Place this Year?
Let’s
start with a story (I like stories):
The
wind gusted, sending the fresh snow swirling around the lamp post.
Miriam shivered, pulling the thin coat tighter around her chest.
“Gonna be a cold one tonight,” she muttered, squinting through
the darkness.
A
little further down the block was the big old church. Miriam
remembered going there as a child, remembered the beautiful stained
glass windows. Suddenly a friendly voice boomed in her ear. “Merry
Christmas! Please come and join us for worship!”
Miriam
looked around, wondering who the cheerful man was talking to. Surely
it couldn’t be her. Christmas Eve was a special service, someone
wearing an old coat and wrapped in a hand-me-down blanket didn’t
fit in with the fancy dresses and bright lights. But there was
nobody else around. “Ar-are you talking to m-m-me?” she asked.
“Of
course my dear,” the greeter replied. “Come in and warm up at
least.” Miriam could hardly believe her ears; certainly a chance
to get out of the wind was welcome. Gratefully she made her way up
the old stone stairs and snuck into a pew way at the back of the
sanctuary, just as the opening notes of the first hymn were being
played.
As
she listened to the familiar old carols Miriam couldn’t help
remembering the Christmases of her childhood. Things were so much
happier, so much simpler then. “What had gone wrong?” she
muttered to herself. Then the pageant started. Watching Mary and
Joseph get turned away from the inn Miriam felt her heart reach out
to them. She knew what it meant to have nowhere to go.
After
the service, Miriam started to wrap herself in the blanket again and
sneak out without being seen. No luck. The greeter was right there
beside her again. “Where will you sleep tonight?” he asked.
Miriam said nothing, just looked away.
Finally
she looked up, “I don’t know, there was no place at the shelter.”
“Well
that will never do” the young man said. He paused for a moment
then a smile came back to his face. “Please come to my parent’s
house with me,” he said. The story we just heard reminds us that
there should always be a place somewhere.
It
might have been a trick of the light and wind. But at that moment
Miriam was sure that the greeter’s face was shining, just like the
angel in the window behind her. And somewhere she heard voices
singing “Hallelujah!”…
We
lose it in the lights and the carols. We focus on the baby in the
manger or the angels on the hillside, or on the man this baby will
become, and we lose it. We lose sight of the fact that Christmas
comes to the least and lowest. In the New Revised Standard Version of
Luke’s Christmas story we are told that Jesus is laid in the manger
because there was no place for them in the inn. Not just the inn was
full but there was no place, they did not belong. Then then angels
appear to shepherds, dirty smelly shepherds who also did not belong
in polite society (at least not without a bath). Where was the place
for them?
Miriam
was sure she didn’t belong either. But she was told otherwise, she
was invited in.
Christmas
is not about trees and lights and presents and carols. Christmas is
about God joining in with our life. And Luke tells us that God
chooses to do that with people who don’t belong, with people who
don’t have a place, with those on the outskirts of their world.
Christmas reminds us that in God’s eyes all have a place, in fact
that those at the bottom have a special place in God’s eyes.
Over
40 years ago Miriam Therese Winter (of the Medical Mission Sisters)
wrote these lyrics:
On
a dark day deep in December, grinding the poverty, grey was the morn.
Only
the clean of heart still can remember the day and the moment when
Jesus was born.
On
a dark day deep in the present, grinding the loneliness and plight of
the poor.
Only
the clean of heart dare to remember, the poor were His Gospel and
their hope is sure
From
Mary’s song of revolution, to the birth of Jesus and on through the
preaching and teaching of Jesus it is obvious that God’s plan is
for there to be a place for all – even (or perhaps especially) if
established understandings and hierarchies have to be destroyed
first. We are still waiting for it to happen. Maybe this Christmas it
will start.
If
Christmas happened in Grande Prairie in 2017 who would fill the
parts? Is there a place for everybody in our Christmas celebrations?
In our life as a community?