“Hope is a star that shines in the night” (VU 7, Written by Brian Wren, music by Joan Collier Fogg)

“Then He brought him outside and said, “Look now toward heaven, and count the stars if you are able to number them.” And He said to him, “So shall your descendants be.””(Genesis 15:5)

“Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, [a]wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, 2 saying, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the East and have come to worship Him.””(Matthew 2: 1,2)

While Hugh and I were in Vancouver, Emily, who was housesitting for us, decided to decorate for Christmas.

And, my goodness, did she decorate!

You need to know that I’m not a big Christmas decorating kind of person.  Advent, for those of us who work for the church, is anreally busy time; we have extra services to keep track of, extra visits to pay and extra busy-ness for the ‘season’.  I’ve had to stop organizing a big Christmas Dinner because I just don’t have time to do so.  Anyone who comes to my house on Christmas Eve is a little surprised that the marathon of Christmas Services ends not with a homemade tortiere and some Christmas Carols around the piano, but instead is Christmas Eve pizza and sore feet up on the coffee table.

(Although, I do have to say, that Bethel is VERY civilized on Christmas Eve; one service at the very civilized time of 4:30, and no one expects me to deliver Christmas hampers after worship.  You people are AWESOME).

Christmas Day in our household is quiet.  We don’t have many gifts; a hold over from some very lean times.  We don’t have company except my sister maybe, and only because she is here enough that she doesn’t have to be ‘hosted’, and we don’t do very much but sleep, read and eat more sweets than we normally do.

So, when Emily decorated our house for Christmas, and really decorated the house for Christmas, not only was it a delightful surprise but it was a bit of a pivot from our normal routine.

One of the things that Emily did was put lights outside; some deer that lit up with white lights, and some white globe lights lining the flower beds.  Hugh and I drove home from the airport in sleet and snow, and when we rounded the corner into our neighbourhood, the house was lit like stars.  It felt so cozy and welcoming after the long trip from Vancouver;  cozy and welcoming enough that I felt myself get a little teary.  Not because I was sad; although to be honest, I was pretty sad leaving Vancouver because we were leaving two people behind that I love very much.  I was teary because it just was so

Beautiful.

Welcoming.

Home.

The next morning when I went outside, I noticed that all three of the deer had fallen in the yard.  One of them was decapitated.  One of the globe lights had broken and was lying in the rotting leaves.  Everything looked a little disheveled and worn; and the magic that had brought me to tears the night before had vanished in the daylight.

But that moment of truth still stuck with me – that moment that I realized that you can only see the stars at night.  And the beauty of Christmas really needs darkness for me to fully appreciate what I have.

Its easy for me to get stuck in chasing a feel-good Christmas; a Christmas where gift giving rains supreme, where ‘Jingle Bells’ plays on an unending loop and where the expectation of ‘holiday parties’ and ‘toasting the season’ with acquaintances and family who never speak to each other in between times seem to be the expectation.  Its easy to think that Christmas can be reduced to a single meal with the perfect turkey and dressing and the china that you havent’ used since last year.

But the truth is, that my faith tells me that Christmas is about something else.  That Christmas is about single points of light dispelling the darkness of our world.  That Christmas is about being able to spot God when you round the corner of your neighbourhood in the middle of an ice storm and see home.  That Christmas is about humble beginnings that call us to point out the stars that we can see illuminating our own darkness.

I think that’s what we are called to worship.

So my dear Bethel friends, come out into the darkness with me.  Let me show you the stars that I see.  Because that one, over there?  That’s where God is.

Blessings today and remember you are loved.

Rev. Lynne