Christmas Pageants

Christmas Pageants

“God sees you not unlike we see a child in a Christmas play. No matter how well the child acts, whether or not the child remembers their lines, picks up the cues, or drops the props, we’re full of delight, compassion, encouragement, and gratitude for how well the child does. We are all children of God. And God adores us.”—Br. Curtis Almquist, Society of Saint John the Evangelist

I love Christmas pageants. I love seeing the tiny faces behind bathrobes and halos, blue scarves, crowns, and towels as they carry jeweled gifts, sheep and other stuffed animals, stars, shepherd’s crooks from canes, and drums, flowers, tambourines, magic wands, and of course a new baby. They have marvelous lines, “Glory to God, Do not fear, Nothing is impossible with God, Yes, Come and See, No room in the inn, For unto you, Christ is born, All is calm, We saw his star, Peace on Earth.”

Frantic directors have no idea what will happen. Nervous parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends conceal illegal flash cameras needed for the darkness at most events to document each starring role. Soloists are abundant. Some of the best male singers know their voice is changing and could crack at any minute. The tiniest angels usually steal the production from the silent baby who never cries.  

 Remember Brother Almquist’s message and watch again a video of a Christmas pageant from a previous year during the pandemic, when we could not be at church in person. https://www.facebook.com/stmarkslr/videos/3823187574379067

 It is easy to see and know that God loves every one of these precious children, honoring God in this spectacle about love. God especially loves every member of this Christmas cast. God sees all of us as participants in this messy Christmas pageant that we live in daily, and God dearly loves each of us, just as God loves these children, no matter how well we remember our lines, sing our solos or keep from knocking down the scenery. 

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Brueggemann, Benedict: Christian Living in the New Year

Brueggemann, Benedict: Christians living in the new year

“The gift of Christmas contradicts everything we sense about our own life. Our world feels unsavable, and here is the baby named Jesus, ‘Save.’ Be ready to have your sense of the world contradicted by this gift from God.”—Walter Brueggemann, Devotions for Advent, Abundance, p. 67.

Ed Seward

We listen to the news. We become depressed. Every day, something more terrible happens. We feel helpless and powerless. The gift of love, the gift of Christmas, brings hope. I keep thinking about St. Benedict. The world is crashing all around him. Rome is being destroyed by Germanic invaders who have taken over his country. He tries to escape and become a hermit. It doesn’t work. He joins a community. He decides the community needs an alternative way to live together in love and consideration for others, and develops The Rule of Benedict.

 This is, of course, an oversimplification of this part of history.

 The beginning of the prologue to the rule is, Listen with the ear of your heart. This is the call I hear this Christmas season. I am being called to a more intentional living of the Rule of Benedict in community. I recently reviewed the rule for a presentation for Community of Hope training. This is training for lay people in pastoral care, steeped in Benedictine Spirituality. I thank those friends who made the commitment to learn and live Benedict’s Rule. They may think I was helping them. Maybe so, but in reality, they are and continue to retrain me to live intentionally in love now and in the coming new year.

St. Benedict shared the love that came down at Christmas, learning to live in a community. My Christmas prayer is that we can also share that love with others.

War Memorial Chapel, National Cathedral

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Day After Boxing Day

  Yesterday was Boxing Day

“But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them.” Wisdom 3:1.

Christmas card my brother and I did together in 1959

 My experience is that those who have known the death of a loved one around Christmas may find the holidays not always a joyful time in their memory. So today, I remember my brother again and Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who died on Boxing Day at age 90 in 2021.

I have written about my brother, who died in December eight years ago in 2014, on Boxing Day, the second day of Christmas. He died four months after his 70th birthday, almost precisely at the same age as our father died. My brother was born on Labor Day and died on Boxing Day. We will have to work on the significance of all that. Boxing Day is traditionally the day after Christmas when servants in English households receive a gift from their employer in a “box.” Of course, Labor Day honors those working and gives them an extra day of rest. I do know Jim loved Christmas. My brother also died when our church calendar commemorates Stephen, the first deacon and martyr. I don’t know about a martyr, but my brother was definitely a survivor. He had open-heart surgery, three cancers, and at least three strokes.

I did something I had never done before shortly after my brother died. I prayed to ask him what he would like us to say about him. I have given many funeral homilies, but never have prayed that question directly to the person who died. I now wish I had. This is what immediately came to me that my brother said: ”I tried to be a good man, and I loved my family.” “I tried to be a good man, and I loved my family.” So that was my message from my brother. He dearly loved his family and was very proud of his three sons. He loved his community, serving faithfully as a banker, a Boys and Girls Club member, and on the school board. I know he especially loved his church, where he also served faithfully.

Since the Episcopal Church is a love we shared, we discussed it often. However, only once did we have the privilege of serving together at an altar. That was at our mother’s funeral, where we both were Eucharistic ministers serving the chalice. 

My brother was an eight o’clock churchgoer. They are a different breed, a little more private, quieter, and sometimes a little more reserved. They get the ear of the rector after the service, as so few people are present that early. My brother loved serving on the vestry, another rare breed. If an eight o’clocker is a lector or Eucharistic minister, they serve more often than those at the later service, as my brother did. I tried to talk my brother into becoming a deacon, which I think could have happened if he had had a little more time. The church is in the genes of our family. It comes in many forms, but we cannot escape it.

My brother was a believer, and there is no doubt that he now lives in the resurrection, just as he experienced so many resurrections in this life.

So today, I am sharing some memories of my brother, my only sibling. I miss him daily, especially on the holidays.

When we were children, I remember how we would wake up in the early morning, too excited to sleep, and lie together in bed, hoping by some miracle that our parents would wake up early. He so loved Christmas. I honor him by sharing Christmas stories about him and celebrating the holiday as he so loved to do. He always brought joy to my life, and I hope to continue sharing that joy, especially at this time of the year. Sometimes when our family shares stories, I hear his distinctive laugh, and I give thanks for our life together.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/