Dear Friends,

This past Sunday, as we gathered after morning worship for our annual “Greening of the Church” to decorate the sanctuary for Christmas, something happened in the space of my heart - something that I’ve experienced on a number of occasions at St. John’s, but which always moves me to tears.  It is this overwhelming sense of our place in the scheme of things, our connection to the long line of faithful people who have gathered here over the centuries, and to the One who created and unites us all.  

In the words of Jan Richardson, whose meditations have accompanied us through the Advent season:

“There is a door in our heart that opens onto eternity. This accounts for how the heart can grow so spacious; it does not reckon only with what we can see in front of us. Neither is it bound by linear time. Our heartbeat echoes with the hopes of those who have gone before us, the dreams of those who will come after us, and with the love of the One who holds us across time and beyond it.”

During this year of ongoing pandemic, I’m even more aware of the importance of the traditions and celebrations we keep at St. John’s – whether it be during Advent or Christmas or Easter, or for a baptism or wedding or funeral.  When we engage in sacred rituals, a door onto eternity opens. Whether in gladness or in sorrow, in difficulty or in ease, celebration is a living act of hope, a recognition that there is more at work than what we can see.

Christmas offers a time to behold this fact. At the same time, it gives us a glimpse of that “more” that is continually at work on our behalf. The celebration of the Nativity invites us to remember how heaven and earth met in the person of Jesus, who did not condescend to take flesh but took delight in it, and who found cause for joy even in sorrow and adversity. In this season we remember that heaven and earth continue to meet as we welcome the light of Christ and allow his story to live in us.

Nonetheless, eternity can be a lot to take in. Which is why, I think, it comes most often in small ways, weaving through our everyday lives, showing up in celebrations we might not have even thought of as celebrations: hanging a wreath on a church door, lighting a candle, sharing a table, offering thanks, singing as we tidy the house—all those moments when hope takes flesh in us, a door in our heart swings open, and heaven and earth meet.

Beloved community, may heaven and earth meet in the space between us during this holy season of Christmas.

In Christ,

Amelie+