First United Methodist Church - Fort Collins, CO

“When The Night Became Silent

Loretta Bauer Buckley has this thought about Christmas:

Christmas is a time for meditating, for recalling that night long ago when Bethlehem cradled to its heart and gave humankind the Redeemer of the world.

Christmas should mean kind thinking, forgiveness, forgetting old cares, old grievances, fears. It should be a time for carving ideals and dreams; a time for weaving the golden threads of past blessings into a mantle of daily thanksgiving.

Christmas is a gift transcending human understanding; an angel choir echoing the song of songs; imperishable glory from the very heart of Heaven to the furthermost part of earth.

Christmas is a boundless love melting all grief. all heartache; hope, serene and beautiful, lighting all darkness.”

Clyde Reid taught at Iliff School of Theology. He wrote a book entitled, You Can Choose Christmas. The following story was what he identified as his favorite Christmas story:

“Christmas that year was pretty bleak. The Depression had hit us hard, and we didn’t have much. There were jars of fruits and vegetables in the dirt cellar of the old farmhouse, but there was not much under the Christmas tree.

Aunt Elsie always sent a package for each of us from Nashville, and we were always excited when her box arrived in the mail. But there just wasn’t much money for gifts that year, and Aunt Elsie’s packages looked lonely under the tree on Christmas Eve.

Mom was still fussing around in the kitchen, and Dad was reading the newspaper through for the second time, trying to squeeze some good news out of it, I suppose.

My older brother Baxter would come out the next day with his wife Ardeane, and my sister Gene would come over from Bloomington with her husband Don, and their first child. I must have been about seven or eight that winter.

A snowstorm had blown in around suppertime, and already there wre about six inches of snow on the front porch. The wind was really howling, and we were glad to be inside. We all felt a little sad that there weren’t many presents under the tree, but we pretended we didn’t care. My brother Jim, being two years younger, had already put his p.j.’s on, and I was about to do the same when there was a stomping noise on the front porch, and then a pounding on the door.

We all looked at each other a little strangly as if to say, “Who could that be at ten o’clock on Christmas Eve in a snowstorm?” My dad then opened the door and said, “Can I help you?”

The man covered with snow on the front porch replied, “We’re on our way to visit relatives for Christmas, and our car stalled in a snowdrift up the road a piece. Won’t even turn over. I wonder if you might let us sleep in a corner somewhere until morning?

I immediately thought of Bethlehem and wondered if my dad would let them sleep in the barn. He gulped a couple of times, but pretty quickly he said, “Sure, bring ‘em in! Can I get my coat and help?” Before you knew it, five people were trying to warm themselves over the one radiator in the floor of the living room–the man and wife and three small kids.

By some miracle, hot cocoa appeared from the kitchen, followed by popcorn. Pretty soon, we were all sitting on the lving room floor telling stories and singing some carols. It really felt good. The somber mood in the house had magically changed to one of joy.

After a while, people were yawning and looking tired. My mom got out all the extra blankets and took the pillows from Jim’s and my bed. The family curled up in corners of the living room, and we all went off to bed.

I must have been first up in the morning. On Christmas I usually was. The snow and wind had stopped around midnight, and it was still outside. I wanted to peek at the strangers to see if any of them were up, but when I looked into the living room, they were gone! I checked the kitchen. Nope, nobody there. Thye bathroom door was open, so I knew they weren’t huddled there.

I looked out on the porch, but there were no footprints in the snow. Could they all have crammed into my folks’ bedroom? I checked. Nobody there but Mom and Dad.

“Dad, wake up. The people are gone. Where’d they go?”

“Hmmm? What is this?”

“They’re gone, kids and all. When did they leave?”

Curiosity triumphed over sleepiness and Dad rolled out of bed. “Whadda you mean, They’re gone?” They can’t be. And keep quiet; you’ll wake everybody up.” By this time, he was in his bathrobe and slippers and was peering into the living room. Nobody there. “I’ll be darned. When did they go?”

“I don’t know, Dad, but look on the porch. It stopped snowing during the night, and there aren’t any footprints out there!” He looked, and sure enough, no footprints. We both put our coats on and hiked to the spot where the car had been stalled the night before. No car and no tracks. More mystery!

As we came back into the house, Mom had the welcomed smell of pancakes wafting through the place. And the coffee pot was bubbling.

We told her our story–no footprints and no car. She replied, “Isn’t that strange? And did you see the packages under the tree?” I rushed in to look. I hadn’t even thought about Christmas presents yet. Sure enough, there was a pile of gifts under the tree that had not been there the night before–and none of us had put them there! Of course, Jim was already seated in front of the pile looking through the gifts to pick out the biggest one.

We never did figure out how they left or why, but we did enjoy those packages. It was a fine Christmas after all.”

Clyde Reid’s story makes me think of other Christmas stories about the darkness and the silence. I wonder if you have stories like this.

We you would like to share something with other readers respond where it indicates “comments”. If you have some ideas or stories for me write me at charlesschuster@fcfumc.net

I look forward to hearing from you.

Charles

When Bethlehem Was a Little Town

The research on the town of Bethlehem has produced some interesting facts. The town was an important town for a variety of reasons. It was a town where there was a murder. It was a town where the people of Israel congregated on their way out of Jerusalem moving toward Egypt and safety when the Babylonians were coming in to take over their land. It was a town where the people gathered as they moved back into Jerusalem after the exile had ended. It was the home of Ruth who was great-great-grandmother of David and it was the town where David grew up and from which he launched his life.

I have focused upon two elements of Israel’s history.

1. Bethlehem was a place where the people of Israel collectively found their identity. They were beginning to discover the sense of union when they were persecuted. It was a dark and dangerous time.

2. Bethlehem was a place where they lifted up one of the greatest people in their history. David was heroic and his heroic actions were inspirational. The people found their courage as they remembered when stood up to the giant Goliath.

Does any of that say something to us as we remember Bethlehem as a place where the Christ Child was born? Is there something of the collective identity in his birth? Is there something of his heroic acts that inspires us? Does the manger the led to the cross, also take us to the table as we celebrate the Last Supper this Sunday?

In the sermon I am going to reflect upon the importance of the collective gathering, and the importance of the courage of launching a life of courage. We gather to remember whose we are; we are God’s people. We depart to do God’s work. We are God’s hands; God’s voice; God’s embrace.

Christmas is about remembering whose we are and what we are called to do. It began in the stable in Bethlehem but it continues in our lives and in the places we find ourselves.

If you have thoughts on this that you would like to share with me respond where it says “comments”. If you would like others to see your response and would like other people to write you back write me at charlesschuster@fcfumc.net

I look forward to hearing from you.

Charles