Holy Trinity Sunday/Pastor Carrie's Farewell Sermon

Holy Trinity Sunday

June 15, 2014

Preacher: Pastor Carrie Smith

Matthew 28:16-20 

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

The other day, I packed two of the most important boxes for our upcoming move to Jerusalem—not the books, or the photos, or the artwork, but the Christmas decorations.

I’m pretty sure that when Robert and I got married, our Christmas decorations could have fit into a shoebox! Actually, our entire worldly belongings might have fit into two or three shoeboxes. But in 19 years, we’ve managed to accumulate enough glass ornaments, silvery garlands, twinkling lights, and festive knick-knacks to fill FOUR Rubbermaid tubs.

And that’s not to mention those three Christmas tree stands I found in the crawlspace.

So it was quite an accomplishment to pare all that glittery mess down to two small boxes, tape them up, and then mark them “Christmas” and “Jerusalem, box 10 and box 11.”

It felt good to do it. I relaxed a little bit when it was done.

It felt good to wrap up a little Christmas for our journey, because as I say farewell to this community I love and am sent to do ministry halfway around the globe, it’s good to be reminded that the God who calls and equips us for such exciting and difficult things is the same God whose angel announced to Mary she would conceive and bear a son. It’s good to be reminded that the Jesus who gives us the Great Commission is the same child who was born on that silent and holy night. It’s good to remember that the crucified and risen Christ on the mountaintop, who sends us out to all nations, is called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace. When Jesus says “Go”, and the going gets tough, it is a great comfort to remember that he is Emmanuel, God-With-Us, yesterday, today, and forever!

Sometimes, we all need a little Christmas joy! It seems the disciples needed a little Christmas on the mountaintop that day, too. They had obediently schlepped up there to wait for further instructions from Jesus, but they were understandably confused and afraid. They were still trying to comprehend this resurrection business, after all! So Matthew tells us that even when Jesus appeared before them on the mountain, as he said he would, some of the disciples doubted.   

The disciples worshiped Jesus, but some of them doubted. So before he launched into what we know as the Great Commission, Jesus took the opportunity to remind the eleven of his credentials. “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me,” he said. In other words: Remember who you’re talking to here! Remember who sent me!

Having established that he was speaking with divine authority, Jesus then gave them these instructions:

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.”

Then, with the weight of those words and the importance of that mission hanging in the air, Jesus gave the doubting disciples a little Christmas joy! He said, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Remember, I am with you always! In that moment, the disciples were reminded that this Jesus, crucified and risen, is Emmanuel, the babe born in Bethlehem, God incarnate, God-With-Us. Therefore, wherever his disciples go, they never go it alone. Thanks be to God! 

With those few comforting words, Jesus brought a little Christmas joy into that mountaintop conversation.  Then again, he also brought a little Pentecost. And a little Genesis! And this is perhaps why Matthew 28 is the text we hear on Holy Trinity Sunday. It’s not just that we get the Trinitarian formula in the Great Commission (“go and baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”)—it’s also that in these final words of the Gospel according to Matthew, we encounter the Trinity not as doctrine, but as Good News.

On Holy Trinity Sunday, we confess that God is three-in-one and one-in-three. We affirm that God is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We proclaim that the Divine One is Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.

But all of these Trinitarian formulas are nothing compared to the Good News of God’s presence with us and among us.

The Good News of the Trinity is that wherever we go, we never go it alone, because God the Creator of all things is the ground of our being and the foundation of our very lives.

The Good News of the Trinity is that wherever we go, we never go it alone, because Jesus is Emmanuel, God-made-flesh, our brother who has walked in our shoes and has felt our pain.

The Good News of the Trinity is that wherever we go, we never go it alone, because the Holy Spirit is the breath of God, both blowing where she will and bearing us up as on eagles’ wings.

On days like today, poised as we all are on the mountain, about to embark on a new adventure—me in a new place, and you with a new pastor—it is the Good News of God’s never-failing, three-fold, divine presence with us that gives us the strength to get up and go.  

And yes, we do need to get up and go! The Great Commission is for each of us, not just for the eleven on the mountaintop, and not just for those who are called to Global Mission.

We are all sent, each according to our own ability, to continue Jesus’ mission. We are sent, not just to our neighbors and our friends, but to all nations. We are sent, not just to bring in new members for this congregation, but to create disciples—people who will walk in the Way of Jesus Christ and trust in him as Lord and Savior.

It’s a big mission, and one which Bethany Lutheran Church does very well. Jesus sends us out to baptize all nations—and it seems we’re doing our part around here, baptizing eight children in the last two weeks! Amen! Today we welcome Evan R. and Evan S. and Avery G. as new brothers and sister in Christ, and we rejoice that they will be joining us on the journey of faith. I was humbled to hear at my farewell reception last week that I baptized 69 people into the faith in this place.  I give thanks to God and to you for calling me to have that great honor!

With the Great Commission, Jesus sends us to baptize, and he also sends us to teach. Here at Bethany, Christian Education for the young has long been a priority. Deaconess Cheryl helped to nurture a wonderful Christian Ed program here for many years. Two years ago, you made a bold step when you called Pastor Paul to be a full-time pastor devoted to the faith formation of youth and families. You’ve shown a commitment to young people that extends beyond the font and the nursery, and acknowledges that youth are not the future of the church, they ARE the church. Amen!

In the last few years, we’ve seen a renewed interest in faith education for adults, too! I’m so proud to see how groups like Theology on Tap, the Monday Night Bible Study, Sunday afternoon Lenten education, and now Sunday morning adult ed opportunities have flourished. I pray that your appetite for learning and your passion for teaching the faith to all ages will continue in the years to come.

Bethany Lutheran takes the Great Commission to baptize and teach very seriously, and I have been blessed to be a part of these ministries here. It’s been a privilege to serve with you and among you as pastor. For me, this has been a mountaintop experience.

So it’s very hard to get up and go off this mountain.

And yet, go we must—for all of us are sent! Some of us are sent to welcome the new neighbors down the street; to make friends with the new kid at school; to teach and inspire young people; to care for the homeless; or to share the Good News through music.

And some of us are sent halfway around the world.

So yes, we must get up and go off the mountain. But we never go it alone!

We never go it alone, because Jesus promises his divine presence will be with us as we carry out the Great Commission.

God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, is with us in the beginning, and in the manger, and in the breath that gives us life.

God, our rock and our redeemer, is with us to the ends of the earth—in Crystal Lake, and in Jerusalem, and wherever life takes Evan, Evan, and Avery.  

God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, is with us at every hello and every goodbye.  

And so we go, trusting in the One who watches over our going out and our coming in, from this time forth and forevermore. Amen. 

Sermon for the 4th Sunday of Advent: December 22, 2013

Sermon for Advent 4: December 22, 2013

Matthew 1:18-25

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

“What’s in a name?”

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

The website BabyCenter recently released its annual baby name report, including a list of the most unusual names of the year. This year’s list includes, for girls: Blip, Fairy, and Kiwi. For boys, the list contains: Ajax, Cheese, Danish, Egypt, Jag, Panda, and Rocket. That’s right, I said “Cheese”. Someday, there could be a little Senator Cheese or Pastor Cheese or Doctor Cheese in your life.

Oh, but wait: it gets better! On this same website you can search for other unusual names from past years. You can find out, for example, that there have been multiple babies named Swag, Hotdog, Butterbean, Phone, Freak, Poopy, Superman, Mushroom, and Elbow. Actually, in 2009, there were three babies named Elbow. One has to wonder if Elbow had a brother named Kneecap and a sister named Bellybutton. Or, maybe he had a twin named Macaroni…

What’s in a name? Does it matter what we are called? Naming my first son Caleb was easy: his was the only name (and I mean the only name!) Robert and I could agree on. In fact, we joked that if he turned out to be a girl, he would simply have to be Calebina, because we couldn’t imagine agreeing on another name.

Some of you know already how our second child, Zion, was almost (but not quite) named Micah, with our plans thwarted when we got to know our pastor’s son, who was 14 years old and also named Mikah. But I don’t think I’ve mentioned how, once we got around to choosing “Zion” as the alternative, we got stuck on a middle name. This baby was due to be born 2 days after Christmas, so Robert and I thought it should be something Christmas-y. This would have been easier for a girl—you could always go with Noelle, or Holly, or Ivy, or the ever-popular Mary. It was a little harder for a boy, but even so, we were very excited to tell some friends we had decided on… “Emmanuel”. Zion Emmanuel Smith.

To say our friends reacted badly would be an understatement. “Oh, for the love of all that is holy!” they said. “This baby is already growing up as the pastor’s kid. Can you at least give him ONE normal name? Don’t do that to him.”

Yep…And that is how our second child became Zion ROBERT. Also, he was born nearly 3 weeks early, on December 8, which sort of ruined the whole Christmas-cutesy thing anyway.

So, what’s in a name? How much does it matter what we are called? In the birth story of the Messiah that we heard this morning, baby names are everything. The author of the Gospel of Matthew says “This is how the birth of the Messiah happened” and then instead of telling about the labor and the contractions, the story begins with Mary and Joseph’s engagement, some surprising pregnancy news, and then a dream in which an angel gives Joseph baby-naming advice. After suggesting he put “Jesus” at the top of the list, the angel goes on to repeat a prophecy from many centuries before:

“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means God with us.”

“You shall name him Jesus” and “They shall name him Emmanuel.” Have you noticed? In the Bible, no one seems to consult baby name books or websites before bestowing names upon people. Names in Scripture more often come from angels or from dreams. Names are even changed after close encounters with God. In this case, the baby born to Mary and Joseph receives two names: Jesus is the name Mary and Joseph will give him, following the angel’s advice. Emmanuel is the name the world will give him. 

“They shall name him Emmanuel, which means God with us.” Just as “Christ” isn’t Jesus’ last name, “Emmanuel” isn’t his middle name. “Emmanuel” is rather a description of Jesus’ life and ministry. It’s a title that speaks not only of Jesus as baby in a manger, but Jesus as healer, as itinerant preacher, and as prophet. This moniker, “Emmanuel”, tells us something special about this baby: it reveals that wherever Jesus is, God is present. Jesus is “God with us.”

Remember, the hope of a child being born who would be called “Immanuel, God with us” didn’t begin with this angel’s announcement in Joseph’s, but was spoken through the book of Isaiah long before. This was a hope that carried the people of God through exile and oppression, through times of persecution and famine. To understand how the hope of “God with us” could be so powerful, consider for a moment the value of presence. No, not “presents” like we have wrapped and waiting under the Christmas tree, but presence.

Consider the experience of trying to talk to a customer service representative on the phone or through online chat, and how sometimes you would do anything just to have a real person to look in the eyes and ask your question. Can I get an Amen? Or, consider the modern miracle of Skype and FaceTime and email. These innovations have changed life for those who live or travel or work overseas, because now we can see and hear each other instantly and (nearly) for free. No more Airmail or telegrams or, even worse, weeks with no contact at all. But ask any grandparent whose grandchildren live in another country, or anyone whose spouse is deployed overseas, about the value of “presence”, and they will tell you that the ability to hug and touch and feel a loved one is far better than cyber communication across the miles. Amen?

“God with us” means God is present with us. God keeps company with us. The church-y word for it is “incarnation”. The Gospel of John puts it this way: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14) The writer Frederick Buechner makes it plainer: “Moses at the burning bush was told to take off his shoes because the ground on which he stood was holy ground (Exodus 3:5), and the incarnation means that all ground is holy ground because God not only made it but walked on it, ate and slept and worked and died on it.” (“Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC” p. 43)

When the angel told Joseph this baby would be called Emmanuel, God with us, it was more than helpful naming advice. This was the announcement that the hope of God’s people was about to be fulfilled: God was coming near. The divine, holy Other would soon have skin on. God, the almighty, creator of all things, would not be living in a land far away or housed in a place or time any more special than this one. The birth of the baby called Emmanuel means that this is a holy place, right here. This is sacred time, right now. This is God’s tabernacle, wherever two or three are gathered in his name.

And sisters and brothers, this is what it means for you that this particular baby, born in Bethlehem and laid in a manger, is the one who is called Emmanuel, God with us:

If an animal’s feeding trough is a holy enough place for God to hang out, then so is your car, and your living room, your dinner table and your work cubicle.

If an unmarried, teenage girl is holy enough to carry God within her womb and in doing so, change the world, then so are your hands holy enough to do God’s work for the sake of the world.

And if a newborn baby’s body—crying, hungry, wiggly and needy—is honored and respected by God as holy ground, then so is your body to be honored and respected, treated as the holy temple that it is. And, to take it a step further, if the incarnation means that all ground is holy ground, then so too is every body a holy body: Yours and mine. Able and differently abled. Black, white and brown. LGBTQ & A (and every other letter of the alphabet for that matter). “God with us” means God is with all of us, no exceptions.

Dear friends, the next time we gather together, it will be to celebrate what has been spoken by the prophets, revealed in a dream to Joseph, and announced to Mary by the angel Gabriel: That the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel’, which means, ‘God is with us.’ Be not afraid--the king shall come! All earth is hopeful, the Savior comes at last! Mary and Joseph named him Jesus. We call him Savior, our light in the darkness, prince of peace, and our long-expected Jesus, come to set the people free. We call him Emmanuel, God-with-us. Thanks be to God, for the most precious gift of presence. Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, July 7, 2013: You are not Alone

Sermon Sunday July 7^th, 2013

Gospel: You are not alone.

Pr. Paul Cannon

Good Morning Bethany Lutheran!

As many of you know, I grew up out in the wild west known as Utah.  And if Utah is famous for any one thing, it’s famous for being the central hub of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints – known as the LDS church aka, the Mormon church.

And I have to tell ya, that being a Lutheran in Utah gets kind of lonely.  There was like 3 or 4 kids in my confirmation class and two of them were me and my brother. So my parents, being the wise, and gentle people that they are (and I’m not just saying that because they are here this morning…wink wink) sent me off to college in MN to learn my Lutheran roots, or as my mother secretly wished, to marry a Lutheran girl!  Mission accomplished.

It was a good move on my parent’s part, not just because I married a Pastor’s daughter, but because up in Minnesota Lutherans are like ants – they were everywhere.  You couldn’t look under a rock without finding a Lutheran eating a hot-dish (dontcha know).

The opposite is true in Utah.  The state is well over 50% Mormon, so though I’m not an expert on Mormonism, I have learned a lot about them just by living there. About half the kids in my school were Mormon, we had Mormon neighbors and Mormon teachers.  Most of our politicians and even the newscasters were all Mormon. 

A lot people in this part of the world don’t know much about the LDS church.  Maybe you have a neighbor who is Mormon, or maybe your doorbell has been rung once or twice by a couple of goofy-looking teenagers on bikes.  You know the ones I’m talking about.  They wear white button-downs, black ties, black pants and they have those name tags that have the ironic title “elder” printed on them.

Well, one thing I can say from my experience is that the LDS community in Utah is that on the one hand they really take care and look after one another.  But on the other hand, they can also be very closed off.  Often the Mormon kids would only hang out with each other, so living there sometimes felt very isolated and lonely as a Christian.  Our family wasn’t ever invited to a Mormon neighbor’s house and I never really hung out with LDS kids because they were only supposed to hang out with each other.

I bring all this up because today we are talking about community & mission.  And those are two things that the LDS church simultaneously really good at, and really bad at.

And it starts today with our Gospel. Mormons take the Bible passage we read today about as seriously – and if I’m being blantantly honest, more seriously – than most Christians take it.

The story comes from the Gospel of Luke.  Jesus had been traveling across the countryside, visiting towns and acquiring more and more disciples. In our story today, he gathers a group of seventy of his followers and then sends them out in pairs ahead of him to proclaim the good news to all the villages they come across.

And this is the model the Mormon church has picked up on. They send their young 19-20 year old male missionaries out in pairs.  And that’s why whenever you see LDS Missionaries there are two of them – because Jesus sent out the seventy in pairs.

There’s a lot of good reasons to go out in pairs and perhaps most significantly, going out in pairs sends the message, “You’re not alone.” You’re not alone. Those missionaries always know that they don’t have to go knocking on doors by themselves.  They have a partner – somebody who has their back. 

Time and time again, our scripture tells us the same thing: that we were never meant to do it all by ourselves.  In the Garden of Eden, God looked at Adam and said, “It is not good that man should be alone.”  Then what did he do? God made Adam a partner. 

In the first chapter of Matthew, an Angel appears to Joseph and tells him “’Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,’ And what does Emmanuel mean? … ‘God with us.’”

It’s interesting because on the one hand, the LDS church models this really well. They send all their missionaries in pairs so they aren’t alone. Their tight-knit communities look after one another.  And those are great traits to have in a church.  But our family’s experience (and I know the experience of many Utah Christians is similar) was that they often did it to the exclusion of outsiders – to the exclusion of their neighbors.

That’s not a reflection of God’s Kingdom.  God reaches out to the lonely.  He speaks through the outcasts.  Jesus didn’t exclude people he deemed unworthy.  He built his church on them.

It’s not just the LDS church that does this.  Lutherans can be guilty of it as well.  Too often we reflect the world we live in, rather than God’s Kingdom. Our world is one that asks “Why should I care?” “It’s not my problem if my neighbor can’t afford health insurance.” “It’s not my problem if people are dying of Malaria in Africa.” “It’s not my problem if the new kid at school doesn’t have somebody to talk to.”  It’s just not my problem.

As a church, we need to be counter-cultural to this.  We are called to go out in pairs supporting one another in God’s mission.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, breathe easy, I have no plans to send you out door to door with cheesy pamphlets explaining how to be Lutheran. I’m not even sure what would be on a pamphlet like that. How to be a Lutheran: Step one: Receive God’s grace.  Step Two: Receive God’s grace.  Step three (optional): Eat hotdish.  No.  Not all of us are called to be evangelical missionaries.

(Hotdish is the Midwest term for a casserole that contains basically everything you can find in your pantry/freezer.  mmmm...hotdish).

However everybody has a calling.  Let me say that again.  Everybody has a calling.  Sometimes we have this faulty assumption that it’s only the Pastors who are quote “called” to things.  But that’s not how Martin Luther saw it.  He believed that all people are called into their stations in life. So whether your calling is as an accountant, a teacher, a stay-at-home parent, a student, a retired grandparent or a customer service rep, God has called you to be where you are.

And all of us are called in whatever we do to stand with others against injustice.  We are all called to feed the hungry and clothe the naked. We are all called to be God’s hands and feet in the world. And that can be a daunting task!  There are a lot of hungry people!  There is a lot of injustice in the world!

But the grace in all of this is that God doesn’t leave you alone to do these things by yourself. Isn’t that what we heard Paul write to the community in Galatia this morning?  He begs them to “bear one another’s burdens.”  Bear one another’s burdens. It’s both a calling and a blessing.  

We are called to bear our neighbor’s struggles.  So it is our problem if our neighbor’s can’t afford to send their sick kid to the doctor.  It is our problem every time a person dies of a preventable disease in Africa.  It is our problem when the new kid in school doesn’t have anybody to talk to.

The blessing is that you are not alone. You have a community here at Bethany that wants to support you. You have a God that has promised in Baptism to be Emmanuel – God with you. So when your burdens get heavy – when you lose your job or are fighting depression or trying to kick an addiction – you have a community that will help you bear those heavy loads.

This community exists to support one another and God’s entire creation. It’s what God calls us to do.  God’s mission for this church is not only that we can support you in your struggles, but that we look outside of ourselves as well. 

So, people of God, I say to you,

“Go in peace, and know that you do not go alone.”

Amen

Christmas Eve Sermon: December 24, 2011

Preacher: Pastor Carrie B. Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

This year, there are no fewer than eight nativity scenes in my home.

There’s the large, delicate, painted set we received as a wedding gift from Robert’s grandmother, which we’re always afraid to touch, and there’s the simple wooden one we bought for our kids several years later. We have a Guatemalan nativity, purchased by my mother from a Ten Thousand Villages shop. There’s a really unusual one Robert brought home from Senegal a few years ago—it actually casts a shadow of the nativity on the wall when you light its three candles. And this year, we were excited to put out the olive wood set purchased on my first trip to the Holy Land in August.

And then, there’s the nativity scene we bought at Walgreens.

That one is made of molded plastic, and with the push of a button, the star on top lights up, and while a variety of Christmas carols play in the background, a deep, Paul Harvey-like voice tells the story: “While shepherds watched their flocks that night, an angel came to say…in the city of David a Savior is born this day.”

This Walgreen’s nativity isn’t particularly meaningful to anyone in the family. And yet, as tacky as it is, it finds its way out of the Christmas decorations box and under our tree every year, without fail. One day, if we aren’t careful, it may also find itself on one of my favorite Christmas websites: The Cavalcade of Bad Nativities.

The Cavalcade of Bad Nativities is just what it sounds like: a collection of the most unfortunate representations of Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus ever found. Here you can find the holy family made out of marshmallows or fashioned out of chocolate. You can see the stable and manger backlit with neon lights. Mary and Joseph, Jesus and the shepherds, and even the wise men can be found depicted as geese, chickens, bears or yellow rubber ducks.

Why do we do this? What is our fascination with turning the holy story of the birth of Jesus, the Savior of the world, into a Precious Moment or a lawn ornament?

And why do you suppose we decorate our homes with tiny mangers—whether tacky or tasteful? The manger, after all, was no holy object. It was a feeding trough. And when you think of it that way, it seems even funnier to fashion it out of marshmallows, or chocolate, or Lenox china.

The manger was nothing more than an animal feeding trough and a slop bowl. It was literally the last place one would think to look for a baby, much less a king. But Mary and Joseph had to make do with what they had—and what they had was a warm, dry place to stay, some animals to keep them company, and exactly one place to put a newborn baby. And so it was that a manger became a baby’s bed, and thereby a cradle for the Savior of the world.

Simply because there was no room in the inn, this utterly functional, decidedly common object suddenly became a receptacle that held the divine. And perhaps this explains why we love nativity scenes so much!

There’s something about this detail of the story—the fact that God came near to us in the form of a baby, and that baby slept his first night not in a palace, or even a boarding house, but in an animal’s feed dish—that fascinates us. It draws us in! We love to sing “Away in a Manger” and to decorate our homes with tiny nativity scenes because the manger is central to our understanding of the meaning of Christmas.

At Christmas, we gather around the manger to celebrate how common places are made holy by the appearance of God in Christ Jesus. It happened on that first Christmas night in Bethlehem, and it happens every day where and when we least expect it.

Martin Luther once said “the Bible is the cradle wherein Christ is laid.” Perhaps the Bible is not such an unexpected place to find God! In fact, we’re so accustomed to thinking of the Bible as a “holy book”, that some of us think it’s too holy to pick up and read! But the fact is that the Bible, in itself, is just a book. Whether we read it in print or on our iPhones, Holy Scripture is holy for only one reason: because when we read it, we meet Christ there. The Bible, like the manger, is an object made holy by the presence of Emmanuel, God with us.

“Emmanuel” is one of those words that seems “Christmas-y”, for it is on this night especially that we celebrate “God with us” in the baby Jesus, and in the manger. But it’s also true that each time we gather for communion, we encounter Emmanuel, God with us. Each time we come to the table and receive the bread and wine, we are part of the Christmas miracle, for we meet Jesus there. Here at the table, in these everyday foods, we are fed and forgiven, through the presence of God in Christ Jesus.

But there are other, even less obvious places which are made holy by the presence of God in Jesus Christ.

If the manger was an unlikely place for God to show up in Bethlehem, I would say the layaway counter at Kmart would be on the list of unlikely places to find Jesus today. And yet the story that has captivated my attention all week is the news that anonymous donors have been paying off layaway accounts at Kmart stores.

Kmart is one of the few places that still offer layaway, and it can be a great help to families with small budgets who don’t have the privilege of using credit cards. As I understand it, anonymous donors have been asking especially for accounts that include toys or clothes for children, and are paying off the entire balance.

This is the sort of story news stations love to report at this time of year! But this time, the story goes beyond charity and sentimentality for me. As I see it, the layaway counter is the manger: a common place made holy through an unexpected gift, undeserved grace, and divine love—not
to mention an account that was paid in full! This year, Jesus was also born in Kmart.

On that first Christmas night, God showed up in the commonest of places—a manger—and made it holy through the presence of Jesus, the Savior of the world. And so we gather again on this Christmas night, around the manger wherein Jesus was laid. We light candles. We sing “Silent night, holy night.” And for this one night, even if we haven’t been to church all year, we feel the presence of Emmanuel, God-with-us, deep in our bones. This is the miracle of Christmas. This is what Christmas is all about!

But when we leave this holy place, and when the manger and the shepherds and the wise men are packed away for another year, we can expect that God will continue to show up in unexpected places. For who would have thought to look for a baby in a feeding trough?

A simple manger became a cradle for the Messiah, and in the same way Jesus makes the commonest parts of our lives into holy places. He is with us on the Metra, and in your cubicle. He is at the dentist’s office and at the Jewel-Osco check-out. Jesus is present during that conversation in the car with your teenager. And he is born again today at the Kmart layaway counter.

And so, with the angel and the multitude of the heavenly host, we sing, “Glory to God in the highest heaven!” For unto us is born this day—and every day—a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.

Jesus, our Savior is born. God is with us. Merry Christmas!