Dear People of God,
I am borrowing the words of one of my favorite poets, Ann Weems, to share with you the hope of this new year. She has an incredible gift to describe with such clarity my feelings of these days after Christmas. She writes:

I must admit to a certain guilt about stuffing the Holy Family into a box in the aftermath of Christmas. It’s frankly a time of personal triumph when, each Advent’s eve, I free them (and the others) from a year’s imprisonment boxed in the dark of our basement. Out they come, one by one, struggling through the straw, last year’s tinsel still clinging to their robes. Nevertheless, they appear, ready to take their place again in the light of another Christmas. The Child is first because he’s the one I’m most reluctant to box. Attached forever to his cradle, he emerges, apparently unscathed from the time spent upside down to avoid the crush of the lid. His mother, dressed eternally in blue, still gazes adoringly, in spite of the fact that her features are somewhat smudged. Joseph has stood for eleven months, holding valiantly what’s left of his staff, broken twenty Christmases ago by a child who hugged a little too tightly.The Wise Ones still travel, though not quite so elegantly, the standing camel having lost its back leg and the sitting camel having lost one ear. However, gifts intact, they are ready to move. The Shepherds, walking or kneeling, sometimes confused with Joseph (who wears the same dull brown), tumble forth, followed by three sheep in very bad repair. There they are again, not a grand set surely, but one children (and now the grandchildren) can touch and move about to reenact the silent night. When the others return, we will wind the music box on the back of the stable and light the Advent candles and go one more time to Bethlehem. And this year, when it’s time to pack the figures away, we’ll be more careful that the Peace and Goodwill are not also boxed for another year!

The days of Epiphany call us to bask in the light of Christmas. Not the light of a star, but the light of a Savior. Here, the darkness is chased away by the promise of new life. The long nights of winter are beginning to give way to days filled with increasing moments of light. For many of us, the darkness seems to overwhelm us. It is only when we remove our hands covering our eyes and lift up our heads that we are able to see the light of Christ that surrounds us. May you be blessed by the hope that God has already placed within you in these days of Epiphany – these days of light.

Peace be with you,

Pastor Chris Marien