Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places,

Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose Gospel comes to us in unexpected ways.

Christmas story 2023.

A young couple is forced to leave their home because it is too dangerous to stay in the land of their birth.  Empire showed up. They flee for their lives.  The woman gives birth in a neighboring country but soon they are forced to flee again, heading north on a treacherous and dangerous 3,000-mile journey mostly on foot.  Fear and unscrupulous people along the way add to their mounting trauma.  It is a miracle they survive.  They finally reach a land of promise, only to be taken advantage of again.

With no money, food, family, or friends, they hold up a sign by the roadside asking for help.  A fellow Venezuelan happens to drive by, sees the sign and them, and brings them to a church.  Then to a second church.  Folks find out about their plight and offer them clothing, food, a place to stay, legal help, friendship.

No star, angels, shepherds, wiseman, or manger but it is a Christmas story nonetheless, and it is happening across the world.  Even here in Santa Fe.  We are that second church and you are the ones providing help for this young couple and their little daughter.  Our part of the journey only began late last week with the snowstorm as we took them in.  They speak little or no English.  They were in church last Sunday.  They were introduced and we all clapped.

Turns out there was a place for them at the Inn.  There should always be a place.  The Inn is on our third Floor.

Turns out there was a shepherd, a Good Shepherd to mix in another biblical image, who tends to their needs and takes them to a safe place.

Turns out there are angels out there whose actions sing out “peace on earth” and “good will to all people.”

Turns out there are wisemen and wisewomen who bring gifts.

And it turns out there is a manger which cradles the promise of a coming hope.

Someone said this past week that in this story the Gospel became real, no longer simply a sweet idea.  And it looks different than in my imagination, just as the reality behind the Christmas story is far different than a Christmas card or carol.  Here in our reality people are scrambling, improvising, making do, doing their best, trying out ideas, working hard, sometimes rejoicing, often sighing, tired and sometimes too tired, but nonetheless . . . hope and compassion continue to astonish and surprise.

It’s called church, messy and challenging as it might be sometimes.  It’s called community, how good it is to be part of a beloved one.  It’s called compassion when strangers become friends.  It’s called Advent, as we wait for something good to happen.  It’s called Christmas when the waiting is over, and God’s spirit is once again recognized, seen, and heard in this place.

Grace, and the peace and wonder of a Christmas story happening right here and now.

Harry