During Advent this year, I had the joy of putting together an Advent Adventure series for the children on Wednesday evenings. Our plan was to make a Nativity themed program that was exciting, educational, meaningful and personal for preschoolers to 5th graders alike, worshiping together, and learning through a variety of play experiences. I wanted to create a unique time and place on Wednesday nights to wonder, imagine, and make long lasting connections with the Bible passages. I looked for activities that would allow the children to both engage with and immerse themselves in the story of the Nativity. My hope was that each student would walk away from our Wednesday night adventures with a new piece of the story imprinted on their hearts. 

Each week, we focused on new characters in the story. The children listened to the Bible stories with curiosity and wonder. They dug into the passages to find out more information, and to complete puzzles and scavenger hunts. They brought exuberance, creativity and wonderful senses of humor to each activity we put in front of them. We talked about the Glory of the Lord that shined so brightly and the strong reactions and feelings the Shepherd might have felt when they saw it. We acted out our own reactions to this event and others described in the Nativity story (in Luke, Matthew, and parts of Isaiah).  

We also thought about what it would have been like to be considered part of the lowliest of lowlies as a Shepherd, living with your sheep and protecting the herd at all costs. Then to be given a wondrous message from angels, to be chosen to go see a miracle, and share the good news for all to hear. 

We stepped into Mary and Joseph’s lives and wondered what it may have been like for both to live in the unknown, to be young and possibly be scared, but to wait and trust God to guide their steps. We wondered why baby Jesus was born in the stable. So many exciting things to wonder about together. 

At the end of most nights, we tied our learning together by painting wooden figures specific to the part of the story that we learned about that night. The children talked about the characters they were creating and laughed about the night’s events. It was a special time for processing all they had learned and for building relationships with their peers. As a teacher, it was a great time to listen and delight in the time spent learning together.

Each year during Advent, when the children take out their handmade nativity sets, I hope each piece brings them back to a place of wonder and excitement for the birth of their Savior.

When I was practicing law, one lawyer in my last law firm would always work on New Year's Day. Our firm, like most law firms, made money by billing clients for our time, and we logged our hours worked (in increments of one-tenth of an hour) each day. The logging of hours is also used to measure performance. The billable hour count becomes a yardstick against which everyone is measured and compared throughout the year. 

In this type of climate, vacations become a source of stress because there are few, if any, hours billed on vacation. Weekends are often seen as an opportunity to catch up on billable hours, and holidays are a great gift because they provide a chance to really catch up. It is easy to be absorbed by this process of the billable hour – chasing after goals and milestones. The tracking period for many firms ends on December 31. This means that on January 1 (a holiday), everyone goes back to zero. 

The zero, and the idea of still being at zero on January 2, was such a stress for my coworker, that he would always bill hours on New Year's Day. Now, I will confess that I did adopt his practice. The contagious nature of competition and fear overtook me. In fact, I even took to avoiding New Year’s Eve celebrations and instead going to bed even earlier than normal and getting up early on New Year’s Day to get a jump-start on the new billable year. 

Our lives are filled with new beginnings. Each morning when we wake up to a new day, there is a new beginning – a new start, a new date, a new cycle of morning, midday and night. Each week and each month we do the same thing – we start anew. The marking of a new year seems, though, to be the most poignant new beginning and is often a time where we commit ourselves to picking up new practices, shedding other practices (or pounds) and generally embracing opportunity. Unfortunately, for many people, the newness fades and the new behaviors fade just as fast. 

I wonder, though, if there's something we can learn from my coworker and his New Year’s Day practice when it comes to our faith life. Without committing to an ill-fated resolution that will likely fail, what would it look like for us to have an attitude geared toward starting our year, and possibly even each day, focused on drawing near to God? 

While our faith doesn’t reset to zero every January 1, we are given new chances and opportunities to draw near to God, who invites us, each day, to experience God in new ways. Being receptive to God’s intermingling in our lives is our calling as Christians and is the beauty and wonder that we celebrated at Christmas when God became present with us in the form of Jesus – Immanuel: God with us. Just as the shepherds and magi were guided and drawn to bow before Jesus, we, too, have this opportunity to live into our calling and approach the mysterious presence of God. 

What might it look like for you to set apart some time in the next few days, and especially as we head into this week to get a jump-start on 2024 by doing something to draw you closer to God. Pray for the new year and that your journey of faith will be filled with God's presence and love. Pray for those who are close to you, and consider letting them know that you have prayed for them. End this year with a focus on how you’ll live into next year.

Jesus was born into political turmoil, and the story of his birth doesn't shy away from describing that: a young man and his pregnant fiancé forced to leave their home for a long journey so they can be more effectively taxed by the occupying power; a nervous and jealous political leader who feels so threatened by rumors of the Messiah's birth that he orders children to be slaughtered on the streets of Bethlehem; astrologers from the East seeking the child and running headlong into the Herod's attempt to manipulate them; the holy family fleeing as temporary refugees in Egypt.  

Two millennia later, we're hearing again of turmoil from that Holy City of Jesus' birth, and from all around that land.  Terror upon terror, and news gets worse.  Israelis attacked, afraid and enraged.  Palestinians, enraged from ongoing occupation and unquestionably inequitable treatment attacked, afraid, and desperate.  Thousands dying, injured, displaced, hungry, ill, under pressure, losing livelihood, and more.

In one small response, local Christian leaders have announced that public celebrations of Christmas in Jordan, Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and other parts of the Land have been cancelled this year. Only religious services inside churches will commence.  Manger Square, normally full of lights, and sounds, and Christmas Trees, and celebrations, is dark.

Please lift all people of that Land in prayer - for an immediate end to war, for a just and lasting peace for all people there.  The Bible calls us to such prayer, and to nonviolent action to live out our prayer.  Let's particularly pray for our mission partners and friends in Bethlehem.  So you can hear directly from there, I've attached a link here to this year's Christmas Message from Rev. Dr. Mitri Raheb, the President of Dar al Kalima University of Ats and Culture in Bethlehem, where the Pinnacle Scholarship Fund supports a student every year and where many Pinnacle members provide additional support, prayer, and hope. 

If you would like to talk more about Bethlehem, reach out to one of our pastors.   

Wes Avram, Senior Pastor

I start off today with a quote from the Gospel of Matthew, the 25th chapter, the 35th verse: ξένος ἤμην καὶ συνηγάγετέ με.

You may have difficulty reading these words, so let me help you:
Xenon ēmēn kai synēgagete me.

Do the words still seem foreign to you? Are they like strangers to your eyes? I understand. Unless the words of scripture are in a language we can read and comprehend, the meaning is lost.

Let me help you a bit further:

Xenon = a stranger;  ēmēn = I was; kai = and; synēgagete = you welcomed; me  = me.

I trust that you can put these together in a sentence, but let me tell you who said them. In a parable that Jesus told to his disciples, there is a king who welcomes some and turns others away, as if there were wanted sheep and unwanted goats. On what basis does the king make these decisions? The king names several reasons, but one stands out: “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” When the “sheep” ask when this happened, the king says, “Whenever you did so to the least of these, you did so to me.”

The first word in the Greek text from our verse above is xenon, and it can mean: stranger, foreigner, alien or guest. You probably know the word xenophobia, which is the “fear of strangers,” and I am sure we can all come up with lots of reasons to fear strangers: they may want to do us harm; they may want to take our things or appropriate our resources; they may make us change our way of life. Jesus, however, praises those who treat the xenon well.

This last Saturday, our Pinnacle youth group, along with their youth leader, Brandon Huenemann, participated in a “Welcome to America” event, and I got to go with them. I am glad I did. “Welcome to America,” based in Tempe, prepares welcome “kits” for families that have arrived in Arizona as official refugees. These folks come from all over the world, and many of them have spent at least a decade in some form of refugee camp on their journey to the US. Many have faced life-threatening violence. “Welcome to America” provides each family with kitchen supplies, sheets, towels, some basic furniture, a simple vacuum cleaner, and even a basic TV. Our group got to visit four families, all within one apartment complex. Each of these families was originally from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, but had been in refugee camps in Rwanda for many years. After we delivered these essentials, we then sat with each family, and through a translator, welcomed them and found out about their lives.

It was very meaningful to me and others from our church family to welcome these strangers and foreigners. All these families talked about how moved they were to be welcomed to America and provided such hospitality by volunteers. Simple things mean so much to those who’ve endured such hardships.

I thought about the passage from Matthew as we sat with these families, and though we were strangers, we found a commonality in smiles and words of gratitude.

You know, I never thought of Matthew 25 as a Christmas text, but the words “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” are fitting for these days leading up to the celebration of Jesus’ birth. Jesus came into a world where oppression and violence were rampant as a stranger. He came “as one unknown,” and sought refuge among us human beings.

One other thing to notice about our Greek text is the word synēgagete (you welcomed); this is the same word from which we can “synagogue,” which means “a gathering place.” It is where the faithful gather as a community, welcoming in those known to the fellowship and those unknown. It is a place where strangers become part of the family.

Imagine we hear the king in Jesus’ story say, as we approach Christmas, “I was unknown to you, as foreign and alien as one can get, yet you gathered me in, and beyond hospitality and welcome, you made me family.”

As we welcome the infant Christ this year, consider what it means to welcome others in his name, and gather them in.  

The first holidays without your loved one can be pretty depressing. As I write these words, I imagine you rolling your eyes. Really, Leah? That’s pretty obvious isn’t it? Or maybe you’re thinking, It’s Christmas–I want jingle bells, mulled cider, cozy sweaters and Christmas cheer. Not the depressing stuff. If that’s you–just close the window now. 

I know I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. Heck, this is what I also know having been a pastor for 10+ years. I’ve listened and prayed for church families as they share how their grief rears its ugly head when the first Thanksgiving and Christmas finally comes. I’ve invited psychologists to share survival techniques for the holidays with my congregation, held grief seminars before the season starts, and led worship services for those who are grieving. And yet…my first blue holiday snuck up on me still. 

We lost my Dad this year in February. Our family wasn’t used to holidays being the same way every year. My Dad was an international pilot and my mom is an air traffic controller so holidays were often unpredictable. It was not unusual for someone to be missing around the table. So I suppose I fooled myself into thinking that because we didn’t have a tradition - that because we had this familial flexibility around holidays - I was immune to holiday grief. Evidently, I was wrong. The empty chair at the dinner table is nothing compared to the empty feeling in your heart. Knowing you can’t call them for a Christmas greeting or make just one more memory. What I wouldn’t give to hear my Dad’s voice one more time. To share with him over the phone the Christmas menu I prepared and to promise to save him a plate or make it again when we’re together again. 

This weekend a previous church member called to tell me his wife lost her battle unexpectedly to cancer. And then he shared, through his own grief, the comforting reminder that even Jesus wept at the loss of his friends. Even though Jesus knew better than any, he’d see them again - he still wept. We agreed perhaps Jesus did this for us - so that we would know it is OK to grieve. That it’s a part of being human. 

Perhaps the most comforting place to be when you’re missing your loved one is with others who feel the same way. With other people who can say truthfully, this sucks and is absolutely horrible, because they know the sting of death too. They know how something as stupid as Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwiches in the freezer aisle can reduce you to a puddle. And they won’t laugh at you when it does because cranberry juice did it to them. It’s comforting to be with those who sit with you while you weep and give you gentle reminders that Jesus wept too. 

The Light of the World came to a hurting and troubled land on the first Christmas. And he still does today. The truth is we grieve with hope. Hope that there is more to life than this life on earth. Hope that because of Jesus we will see our loved ones again. We have hope at all because God is Emmanual. God is with us in all of our days and all of our grief and promises that one day grief will be no more. 

If you need a community to sit with this blue Christmas, I encourage you to join us for The Longest Night Advent Vespers service next Wednesday, December 20th at 6 pm. Come in sweats, come snotty and teary eyed. Come just as you are. You are welcome here.