Readings:
Isaiah 7:10-16
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-25
Pastor Mohn reminds us that even for those of us who are happy, there are moments when happiness is not sustainable, moments we feel we ought to be happier. We’re naturally anxious, apprehensive, lonely, exhausted, where it’s hard to know what to feel, what to be. In these times of curious anxiety, no matter where we find ourselves, we are all called to one, same place: the manger. Whether your road has been through a funeral, a memorial service, a brush with death, a re-birth or re-awakening, all are called to one place.
Pastor Mohn shared that when she joined her Dad for chores on the farm, she often perched on a fence and liked to “watch from a distance”, dressed in her coat and gloves that did not match. When the weather was cold, she had to “take it inside” to the silo shed or the feed bunk. The feed bunk ends up being a powerful metaphor for the manger. We end up there when other places just won’t do. Even, and especially, at the feed bunk, you’re aware of the animals feeding; you’re at the safest spot with the bay and the animals feeding, not removed, at a distance, on the fence, far away.
Even in homes with quaint fireplace cozies, if you scratch beyond the surface, there are rats. The feed bunk calls because it is the safest place to be, where you can bring your baggage … you’re even supposed to … and, even if your coat or your hat doesn’t match your gloves, all are welcome.
Somehow, as Pastor Mohn painted this glorious picture, I imagined the Who’s down in Whoville … on Christmas morning , after the Grinch “stole Christmas” … they gathered together under a star, circled around a glimmering light and held hands, all called to a single, centered place where … they sang … sang a song of thanksgiving for the true meaning of Christmas.
Isaiah 7:10-16
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-25
Pastor Mohn reminds us that even for those of us who are happy, there are moments when happiness is not sustainable, moments we feel we ought to be happier. We’re naturally anxious, apprehensive, lonely, exhausted, where it’s hard to know what to feel, what to be. In these times of curious anxiety, no matter where we find ourselves, we are all called to one, same place: the manger. Whether your road has been through a funeral, a memorial service, a brush with death, a re-birth or re-awakening, all are called to one place.
Pastor Mohn shared that when she joined her Dad for chores on the farm, she often perched on a fence and liked to “watch from a distance”, dressed in her coat and gloves that did not match. When the weather was cold, she had to “take it inside” to the silo shed or the feed bunk. The feed bunk ends up being a powerful metaphor for the manger. We end up there when other places just won’t do. Even, and especially, at the feed bunk, you’re aware of the animals feeding; you’re at the safest spot with the bay and the animals feeding, not removed, at a distance, on the fence, far away.
Even in homes with quaint fireplace cozies, if you scratch beyond the surface, there are rats. The feed bunk calls because it is the safest place to be, where you can bring your baggage … you’re even supposed to … and, even if your coat or your hat doesn’t match your gloves, all are welcome.
Somehow, as Pastor Mohn painted this glorious picture, I imagined the Who’s down in Whoville … on Christmas morning , after the Grinch “stole Christmas” … they gathered together under a star, circled around a glimmering light and held hands, all called to a single, centered place where … they sang … sang a song of thanksgiving for the true meaning of Christmas.
Christmas comes, as the Whos knew, “not from a store … for maybe Christmas, just maybe, is a little bit more”. Christmas comes in a broken world, in the holding of hands at the manger, where the promise is born. And when we’re all in there, we won’t be cramped. That circle expands to fill the world. Five loaves and two fish feed thousands with plenty left over. The blind will see, the hungry will be fed, hope will be restored, and, when there’s nothing left, He will give Himself … on a cross.
As Jesus the baby becomes Jesus the man, the whole world will become the manger. God will walk up and relieve us all of our baggage … and what’s left over will be enough for everyone.
No matter your road … it’s time. Come … put your boots on, head to the feed bunk and join hands.
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