The best metaphor for our world of today is astronauts speeding through the cosmos, but with their life-supporting capsule pierced by a meteorite fragment. But the Church resembles Mary and Joseph traveling from Egypt to Nazareth on a donkey, holding in their arms the weakness and poverty of the Child Jesus:  God incarnate.  

The God Who Comes, Carlo Carretto

The book quoted here was published in 1974 but it certainly reads as an apt description of 2020. On the one hand we are on the cutting edge of science and technology. Last week we had a Zoom birthday party for my Dad and he was shocked that we could include his grandson who is living in Madrid, Spain. Scientists around the globe are working together to bring us a vaccine. And at the same time, our life support capsule seems to be pierced. We long for face to face connections with the people we love. So many of the systems that support life: hospitals, schools, businesses are strained to a breaking point.

One of the biggest “aha moments” for me over the past nine months has been the resilience of the church. Can’t have Sunday school? We will meet with the kids and parents for popsicles in the park! Can’t gather in the sanctuary for worship? We will hire a drone to take photos of the stained glass for the streamed service. Can’t serve the homeless a hot meal? We will make sack lunches. Over and over again I have been astounded by the ways that our church staff and church members have made a way out of no way. They have resembled Mary and Joseph, holding in their arms the weakness and the poverty of the Child Jesus.

This Christmas will be different. We will miss some of our sacred traditions. But God still comes.  The word of God is made flesh.

Grace and Peace,