Rector's Rambling: December 2009

Christmas joy is a wonderful thing. Several years ago, when Ashley graduated from high school, many of our friends at St. John’s took up a collection and bought her a Crosby bridle. She used it almost every day while she was in the equine program at Ohio State Wooster, and has treasured it ever since. This week, she called home and asked Rebecca to look at a saddle on e-bay. It was a beautiful Crosby with wool padding and dark German leather. She excitedly told about how it was out of production, and that it was a perfect match for the rest of her Crosby leather. As she spilled out her plans to pay for it, it became rather obvious that the timing of the sale was likely to be a problem. There were only 18 hours left until the auction was over. Rebecca asked me in hushed tones what I thought, and we did what most parents do, we agreed to enable a temporary asset transfer through a sale listing. As Rebecca said “Merry Christmas” to Ashley, I could hear my daughter on the other end of the line absolutely giddy with joy. She was as a little girl again.
As I reflected on the wonder of the joy a saddle could bring, I thought of other Christmases, when Tristan was in theatre, and Brad, and Matthew, and Chris, and now Stuart. My mind often wanders to them. Generally I cry and I breathe a simple prayer,” O God, give them strength and courage, watch over them and help them to do their duty.” I remembered my dad and how happy he always was to give to others, and I thought of one Christmas in particular when he bought toys and clothes for a poor family in our neighborhood. He crept onto their porch in the dead of night on Christmas Eve and left the wrapped boxes to be found the next morning. I don’t think he ever told anyone what he did, and I don’t know if he even knew that I had seen him that night. One year when I was in College, I took a job ringing bells with the Salvation Army in Chicago. We had initially been told that we would not be released in time to get home for Christmas day, but when that news changed, I grabbed my kit, jumped on the first train I could get for Muncie, and headed home. I called my cousin Carroll from the station, and he drove from Parker to pick me up. When I arrived home just before midnight on Christmas eve, I walked in and found my folks sitting at the table drinking coffee, looking like they had lost their last friend. It was a wonderful and unexpected reunion, and our joy was genuine that night.
There is something about the celebration of the birth of our Saviour that seems to deepen every emotion and to heighten every perception. Our depressions are more sinister, and our joys are more absolute. As our appreciation deepens for those we love, our longing for those from whom we are separated grows ever more painful. Perhaps it is fitting that in this time of our deepest and most passionate outpourings, when we are the most vulnerable in so many ways, that Jesus should come into our lives. “So God loved the world that he gave his only begotten son…,” and he is still giving him to us today. As the light of Christ comes into the world, might we all welcome him with joy beyond knowing, and might we receive this gift of God who loves us, and calls us all to himself.

Merry Christmas!
Bill+