February 1 - “Redeemed and Required”

Redeemed and Required

Micah 6:1-8

Matthew 5:1-12 

Rev. Mary W. Nelson

First Cong’l Church of Williamstown, UCC

February 1, 2026 

 Will you pray with me, please…  

The prophet Micah was doing his prophet thing at the same time as the prophet Isaiah. They were both in the same place—the Southern Kingdom of Judah, which included the city of Jerusalem. They wrote about the same events at the same time: the fall of the Northern Kingdom of Israel to the Assyrian Empire in 722 BCE, and Assyria’s eventual siege of Jerusalem, which took place in the year 701 BCE.                  

 But there are some key differences between the two prophets: Isaiah is an insider, he works in the royal court of Judah, some scholars even think he’s from an aristocratic background. He’s certainly got access to the world of the elites: He’s a counselor to the King—several kings, in fact, over the course of 40 years. He’s a cultured, cosmopolitan, city guy. He loves Jerusalem. Isaiah also believes that God loves Jerusalem, and he insists that although it’s likely that Jerusalem will be destroyed in the course of invasions from Assyria, there still hope because God loves Jerusalem and will rebuild it bigger and better every time.                  

Micah, on the other hand, is an outsider. He’s a poor guy from a small, rural community perhaps about 25 miles southwest of Jerusalem. He, too, is writing to the elites, the various kings and leaders of Judah over the years, but not because he works for them. He is not offering counsel, he’s offering critique. And he could give or take Jerusalem. Micah, too, foretells the destruction of Jerusalem. Micah, too, prophesies hope for Jerusalem’s eventual rebuilding. At best, though, Micah doesn’t really care about Jerusalem one way or another. He’s not attached to it. He prophesies its destruction in war and expresses hope for its rebuilding—not because Jerusalem is especially beloved by God, but because God is in covenant with God’s people. God made a promise to the people, and God will honor that promise. Micah has hope not because Jerusalem is great, but because God is great. Even when people aren’t.                 

 That these two prophets speaking to the same kings about the same events in the same time frame should then have two very different perspectives and approaches from one another shouldn’t be that surprising—after all, they’re two different people. They come from different places, and they know their audiences differently. They will see and hear and prioritize different aspects of the same events, because they have had different experiences shaping their lives, and they have different relationships with the king to whom they are speaking. Isaiah is close to King Hezekiah of Judah, but Micah’s prophecy is the one that actually impacts Hezekiah’s decision-making.            

      Prophetic speech in the days of the “prophets of old” wasn’t about forecasting a future, it was about explaining the events of the present as they unfold. It was about speaking truth to power. Isaiah, speaking to King Hezekiah about the likely invasion of Jerusalem, says essentially, “Yeah, Jerusalem is going to be destroyed, and then God will restore it again.” But Micah says to Hezekiah, “Jerusalem is going to be destroyed unless you do something—you have to change your ways.” Hezekiah makes a deal with Sennacherib, the invading Assyrian king. And that deal saves Jerusalem from destruction for another hundred-plus years.               

   We can make comparisons, too, between Matthew’s gospel and Luke’s gospel. They were both writing around the same time, using much of the same material, talking about the same person and events. But they were different people, writing for different audiences. And the ways they tell the story of Jesus are deeply impacted by who they are and who their audience is. Matthew is writing for a community of Jewish Christians, probably in Antioch in Syria, who are a homogenous minoritized group trying to find their place in a shifting cultural landscape. They are economically stable, but unsure of their identity as Jews who are in the process of probably splitting off from Judaism. Luke, meanwhile, is writing for a newly-forming, constantly-shifting, diverse group of Jews and Gentiles in or near Jerusalem itself. They are economically and socially unstable, but they are galvanized by a purpose and vision, so their commitment to one another and to the nascent Early Church is fervent.               

   Both Matthew and Luke tell of Jesus preaching/teaching to his disciples and a larger gathered crowd, beginning with this list of blessings we call “The Beatitudes.” Blessed are these people, because of this reason. And blessed are those people, because of that reason. The lists are different. There are a few places where they overlap, but they’re different. Matthew adds extra blessings that Luke doesn’t include; Matthew omits a balancing list of “curses” that Luke lifts up: Blessed are you if this, but cursed are you if that. Matthew’s list is more ethical, ephemeral; Luke’s list is concrete, personal. So where Matthew says “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” Luke simply says “Blessed are the poor.” Where Matthew says “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,” Luke simply says “Blessed are the hungry.” Matthew’s congregation isn’t poor, they aren’t hungry. So they don’t need to hear the same blessings that Luke’s congregation does.               

    All of these prophets, these evangelists, were writing from their particular perspectives, for their intended audiences, and they weren’t writing for us. We are not who they imagined would be on the receiving ends of their words, their visions. Two thousand years later, 2750 years later, through countless generations of oral tradition and transcription and editing and translation and illiteracy and church politics and world politics, here we are, hearing these scriptures and taking them to heart. Micah 6:8 is part of our church’s statement of purpose. Matthew’s Beatitudes offer a vision of a spiritual life that resonates for so many in our aspirations and convictions today: Blessed are the merciful; blessed are the pure in heart; blessed are the peacemakers.            

       All of them also have something to say about who God is, and what that means for who God calls us to be. And they don’t all say the same things. And that’s okay. Because as any writer or speaker or teacher or parent will tell you: your listeners aren’t necessarily going to hear the words you say, they’re going to hear what they need to hear. The more the words of Micah or of Matthew grow distant from the specific community and situation they address, the more they become the words of the tradition, the words of the faith, the words of the community. What can WE learn from them? What HAVE WE learned from them over the years? But I want to give a word of caution here, too: the more the words of Micah or of Matthew become the words of the tradition, the faith, the community—the less they are specific to us, to me and my community. The question is not what do I need to hear, what do I need to learn, but what do we need to hear, what do we ALL need to learn, what does the WORLD need?

And we, our church, are not the only ones who can answer that question. We are not the ultimate authority on who God is, or who God calls us to be. For that, we have to listen, we have to discern, together. And the words of scripture can help us to do that.

Both Micah and Matthew, 750 years apart, addressing wildly different circumstances and communities, say something incredibly similar about who God is, and therefore who we are called to be.

Fundamentally, for Micah, God is good! And because God is good, and God is in covenant with us, therefore God expects us to be good, too. Micah says that Jerusalem will fall because there is no justice there. It’s leaders do not know justice, and that needs to change, because our covenant with God describes a relationship of reciprocity. God has redeemed us, Micah says: “I brought you up from the land of Egypt, and redeemed you from the house of slavery…” so I don’t want your burnt offerings, your rivers of oil, your firstborn child. I want you to be like me. I’ve told you what is good: to do justice, and love kindness, and walk humbly with your God. You can’t buy my favor, I’ve already given it to you. But relationship with God is a two way street, says Micah: I don’t do one-sided justice. I have redeemed you, and I require your participation in the work of caring for the world.

Matthew, too, because his community is a little more stable, a little more able to focus beyond mere survival, has a very similar take. Blessed are the _____ because God is good. For Matthew, a relationship with God is based in righteousness [right relationship] as a response to God’s goodness. It’s not that God wants us to be good, but we want to be good because God is good. 

How do we know what goodness is? Well, Matthew says you’re blessed if you “get it.” Blessed are the peacemakers, because they make the world peaceful. Blessed are the meek, because they inherit. Blessed are those who suffer for righteousness sake, because that’s what happens when you say the thing that the world doesn’t like—but you’re trying to do what’s right. 

For Matthew, we’re supposed to want to be good. For Micah, we’re supposed to be good because that’s the nature of our relationship with God. They’re very similar, kind of a difference without a distinction. The key is relationship. It’s not my rightness, my goodness, my work, my justice, my idea of truth: all of that belongs to God, and comes from being in relationship with God. It’s a process, an understanding. We try, and sometimes fail, listen, and practice, and work, and listen some more. Blessed are you who listen and try. Blessed are you who work for something better than what is. Blessed are you who work for justice, and love kindness, and walk humbly with God, because that’s the heart of what God calls us to do.

We don’t do it alone. We don’t do it as individuals, but as a community—people called together by the Holy Spirit. Not because we say this is what’s good, but because God says, “this is what’s good.” Let us listen, and do the work. Let us do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. Because that’s who God is, and who we are called to be, in Jesus’ name. Amen.    

January 4 - "Go into the World, Make Disciples"

Epiphany

January 4, 2026

Williamstown, MA

Scripture : Isaiah 60:1-6, Matthew 2:1-12

Tradition has its place. It grounds us and reassures us, especially when life seems chaotic

and what’s next is hard to discern. Tradition, though, can also be a disservice. Its implicit

comfort and reliability can lead us to complacency which leads us to avoid questioning

longstanding assumptions even in the face of changed circumstances.

This story of the magi is part of a longstanding church tradition in which we conflate

Luke’s and Matthew’s birth narratives. Think Christmas pageants. A cute and endearing tableau

retelling the birth story with kids dressed as Mary and Joseph, a doll for Jesus unless there is a

new baby among the congregation, whether boy or girl, angels with their halos and wings, and

shepherds and wise men, the latter dressed in men’s bathrobes. Even though Luke’s narrative is

prominent on Christmas Eve, the traditional service of lessons and carols in many churches

includes the magi. Frankly, we sort of swoon over all of this, but then, why spoil this with

theological questions and discrepancies?

Conflating these two birth narratives, the only ones in scripture, is a self-inflicted

disservice. Doing this, glosses over each writer’s distinctive agenda due to two different

contexts.

Matthew, writing in Antioch, addressed a second-generation community of Jewish

Christians. He contrasted the rule of two kings, Herod and Jesus, although the latter not

specifically as a king, but the son of David. Though Jesus’ actual birth was undated, it likely

occurred towards the end of Herod’s reign, which in contemporary language, was a dumpster fire

due to his paranoia. There is no historical account that Herod ordered the slaughter of the

children, which followed the flight of the Holy Family to Egypt. Nevertheless, that ruthless order

was characteristic of his desire to kill those he feared, which included family and friends.

Matthew connected the birth to the First Testament by drawing upon Micah 5:2, “But you, O

Bethlehem of Ephrathah, who are one of the little clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for

me one who is to rule in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.” As for the star,

we could speculate that Matthew tied it to Numbers 24:17, “a star shall come out of Jacob, and a

scepter shall rise out of Israel.”

The magi were not Jews. By bringing gentiles into the narrative at the beginning of Jesus’

life, Matthew conveyed to the Antioch church that Jesus came not only for Jews, but for gentiles

as well. Thus, he assured the church’s Jewish-gentile mix that Jesus was the legitimate Messiah

for all the world.

From this perspective, I see Matthew’s understanding of Jesus’ messiahship as

encompassing a broad inclusive worldview. Two other stories in Matthew’s gospel stand out in

this regard, in contrast to Luke’s.

After Jesus’ baptism, he went into the wilderness for forty days. Both gospels had

temptation accounts of Jesus’ encounter with the devil. In each account Jesus faced three

temptations: turning stones into bread, throwing himself off the pinnacle of the Temple and

trusting angels will save him, and bowing down to the devil in exchange for dominion over the

world. Each of them began with the devil asking Jesus to prove himself by turning stones into

bread. Luke and Matthew diverged in the last two temptations. Whereas Luke’s second

temptation was dominion over the world and the third throwing himself off the Temple’s

pinnacle, Matthew’s second temptation was throwing himself off the Temple’s pinnacle and the

final was dominion over the world.

The other story was the ascension account. In Luke’s account, Acts 1:4, Jesus instructed

the remaining 11 disciples to remain in Jerusalem to await the Holy Spirit. Whereas Matthew

wrote at the end of his gospel, “And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and

on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in

the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey

everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the

age.’” (Mat. 28:18-20)

Antioch was one of the Jesus movement’s two centers, the other being Jerusalem.

Located in a predominantly Greek metropolis, the Antioch church had a more expansive

perspective on who could be part of the movement as opposed to the Jerusalem church’s more

orthodox, tightly circumscribed perspective.

Implicitly, Matthew’s gospel encouraged evangelism.

Evangelism, one of the basic tenets of the Church, gives mainline Protestants like us

some discomfort. We don’t see ourselves standing on street corners passing out pamphlets telling

people to get right with Jesus, and we certainly can’t bring ourselves to tell someone they can’t

get into heaven if they don’t accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

About 25 years ago, Anthony Robinson, a UCC pastor, observed in his book,

Transforming Congregational Culture, that the mainline church’s traditional self-identification

as a civic institution implicitly promoted church membership, especially congregational

leadership, as fulfilling a civic obligation over explicitly fulfilling a spiritual need. This

hampered its members from speaking easily and openly about why their faith and their church

mattered to them.

Today, as the mainline church no longer holds a prominent place in our communities, the

lingering effects of church as a civic institution may render us uncomfortable to talk openly

about our faith in unfamiliar social settings. We may even have difficulty articulating what role

faith plays in our lives or why it is important to us. We may even have difficulty finding words to

invite unchurched people to join us in worship.

We won’t grow the church, however, without evangelism. Evangelism, though, is not

only what we say or how we talk about our faith. It is also how we live out our faith. As the

hymn says, “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love Yeah they’ll know we

are Christians by our love.” Love as action, not emotion.

Furthermore, we can’t share our faith without building relationships. When Jesus talked

about faith, he did it in relationship with other people; side by side listening to their stories with

an empathetic ear. Hearing those stories gave him what he needed to advocate for them when he

spoke truth to power.

As stated in the UCC Statement of faith, “In Jesus Christ, the man of Nazareth, our

crucified and risen Lord, he has come to us and shared our common lot, conquering sin and death

and reconciling the world to himself.” Those are words for all of us. Sharing our common lot

means being with people as we listen to their stories. Their stories can be joyous celebrations or

woeful lamentations. They can reveal things about their circumstances which we didn’t know,

which in turn can make us better allies to work on their behalf. Their stories could even reshape

our ministries.

Many people have stories. Stories of hurt, loss, uncertainty, maybe even abuse from all

that has gone on this past year. Immigrants who are in legal limbo because their immigration

attorney was suspended. People on SNAP whose benefits were stopped in November because

Congress put a priority on winning over the other party rather than serving us. People whose

health insurance premiums just rose dramatically because giving tax breaks to billionaires had a

higher priority than keeping health insurance premiums affordable for everyday people. People

who are house poor, particularly in a town like Williamstown, because affordable housing is

scarce. Did you see Friday’s Berkshire Eagle report that our 4% unemployment rate is the

highest it’s been since 2021 as job growth slowed in 2025?

Admittedly, being with people and listening to their stories can be intimidating because

we enter an unknown….”what do I say? or I don’t know what to do.”

While solving someone’s situation is ideal, the reality is resolution is more often beyond

our resources and capabilities. It’s important, though, that they know they were heard and that

someone took time to care about them. Doing this gives them hope because someone shares their

burden. They are not alone.

Matthew’s gospel, particularly the end, also known as the Great Commission, reminds me

of a song by Natalie Sleeth. “Go ye, go ye into the world and make disciples of all the nations.

Go ye, go ye into the world and I will be with you there. Go ye, go ye, into the world and take

the Gospel to all the people. Go ye, go ye into the world and I will be with you there.”

Getting people to come to church means leaving the church. Leave the church and go into

the community to build relationships with people who don’t go to church and listen to their

stories. Or maybe it is not about leaving the church as much as taking the church out into the

community.

What would be different if we reimagined the church? What would be different if we

didn’t think of the church as an institution? What would be different if church was not a noun?

What would be different if church was verb?

January 11 - "Baptism and the Kingdom of God"

Baptism of our Lord

January 11, 2026

Williamstown, MA

Scripture: Matthew 3:13-17

Jesus’ baptism marked the start of his ministry. His ministry was wide-ranging, which makes describing it succinctly difficult. Furthermore, as preachers we come to the pulpit each week carrying what rests on our hearts and what we believe resides in the collective hearts of the congregation.

Jesus’ ministry challenged the empire’s power. Then, it was Rome. Its economy took money from the anawim, the everyday people, to enrich the already rich and powerful. It kept peace through fear, notably an army bearing instruments of violence.

Over the past eight days we have witnessed a contemporary empire’s power. The invasion and capture of Maduro eight days ago demonstrated the raw power of its apex and the shootings of three people by federal agents, two wounded in Portland, Oregon and one fatality in Minneapolis, made clear that the abuse of power at the top has allowed its agents on the ground to disregard ethical and moral restraints imposed by human dignity.

Though baptism has many theological meanings, Paul’s perspective, that baptism binds us into the body of Christ, makes it the foundation of the church. Our celebration this morning with Carolyn’s baptism, bringing Conor, Dietmar, and John into membership by reaffirmation of their baptisms, and reaffirming our baptisms binds us not only as a congregation, but as siblings in Christ, children of God.

The gospels’ meta theme was God’s incarnation in Jesus who taught us that God’s kingdom on earth was an alternative to the empire. Both birth narratives set up the confrontation between two kingdoms. The proclamation in Luke, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” echoed the proclamation for Ceasar’s reign. When Matthew wrote that the magi asked Herod where they might find the child “who has been born king of the Jews,” he named the confrontation. The confrontation between the two kingdoms, the empire and God’s kingdom came to head beginning on what we know as Palm Sunday, when the processions of Jesus and Pilate entered Jerusalem on opposite sides of the city. The former an unarmed contingent holding fast to the teachings of their rabbi, whose message was a profoundly and radically inclusive love, facing the latter, an armed contingent displaying the instruments of the empire’s power. Though several days later the empire executed Jesus on a cross, his resurrection after three days proclaimed that God’s life-giving ways will always trump the empire’s ways of death. That love will always cast out fear. That real power is humility and that swords will be beaten into ploughshares.

Just as baptism began Jesus’ ministry, it is ours as well. The Holy Spirit, which was sealed in us at our baptisms, empowers us to continue the ministry Jesus began 2000 years ago. Though today’s empire is not the Roman Empire, the empire’s character remains. Though this week’s news might tempt us to name the current administration as the empire, it’s not just this administration. The empire has been organized by a world view believing in scarcity, not abundance, ensuring peace with instruments of violence, not the bread and the cup, measuring wealth by possession, not generosity, securing the individual, not the common good. 

That we have food insecurity is an outrage when we are the richest nation in the history of world and our farmers collectively produce more food than we can eat, particularly when we realize that by accepting food pantries, we implicitly accept begging as part of the solution. In the recent fatal shooting in Hinsdale this past week, the victim’s family cited the medical system’s failure for the victim to get treatment for his mental illness. We can probably name other failings. Our current problems transcend governance by both parties.

Jesus’ ministry was both prophetic and caring for the people who were crushed by the empire’s power or were relegated to its margins. The familiar adage, “Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable,” summed it up well. As the church we’re called to be prophetic. That would be to speak truth to power, regardless of who holds the power. We’re also called to comfort those who are afflicted, people whose hope is dimmed due to economics, race, immigration status, gender and sexual expression and limited physical and mental capabilities. 

I am truly grateful for having this opportunity to serve you for the past six months. We are the body of Christ whom God calls every day to use our gifts to bring forth God’s realm of peace and justice into this world rooted in a radically inclusive love. We remind the world that God’s kingdom is life-giving as opposed to the empire’s world, the way of death by speaking truth to power and caring for the afflicted.

We do this together. Remember the dragon boat race. Twenty people paddling together. That’s the image and metaphor for us because when everyone paddles together, open water is ours.

December 24 - Not Alone on Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve

December 24, 2025

Williamstown, MA

The weather forecast for Christmas Eve was for snow beginning at dusk, becoming heavy

at times and then tapering off by 9:00. The temperatures would be bitterly cold with strong gusty

winds up to 20 miles per hour ending by midnight.

Garrett hauled his laundry into the laundromat just as the snow started to fall. He looked

around. It was empty. He took off his jacket and hung it up. He pulled out a roll of quarters and

whatever spare change he had. He hoped it would be enough to get detergent, wash and dry his

clothes.

As he put his money in for detergent, he couldn’t help noting that it was ridiculously

expensive. “If I didn’t have to spend so much on food,” he muttered to himself, “I could buy it at

the store.” He dumped out his clothes, put them in a washer, inserted his quarters, and started the

machine.

Garrett sat down and scanned the magazines. Except for People magazine, none of them

interested him and, even then, People was a month old.

About ten minutes into the wash cycle, he heard a voice from the back corner, “Hey, who

does laundry on Christmas Eve?” Startled, Garrett looked around and saw a somewhat

disheveled man.

Garrett said, “I didn’t see you come in.”

“Well, I’ve been here for a while,” the stranger replied. That struck Garrett as strange

because he was sure no one was there when he arrived, and he would have felt a cold breeze if

the door had opened. Still, it didn’t matter to dispute it, the guy was already there.

The stranger approached him. Looking at him, Garrett figured he was in his early 30s. He

was thin and tall, but not exceptionally tall, maybe a bit under six feet. His beard looked like he

hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. He was carrying a backpack.

“I’m Manny,” he said as he held out his hand.

Garrett took his hand, “Garrett,” he replied. “I’m here for the same reason you are.”

“I don’t think so,” Manny said. “I’ve been on the road for the last nine hours. I stopped

here to take a break because the lights were on. Tough to find places open on Christmas Eve at

this hour, well except churches. But I don’t want to go to church now. I have another four hours

to go before I get to my folks. I’ll join them at our family church. So, you didn’t answer my

question, why are you doing your laundry now?”

“I don’t feel especially Christmasy today,” Garrett answered. “I don’t know…. it’s

just….” He sighed, “My dad died unexpectedly just before Thanksgiving, and I’ve been in the

dumps since.”

“You have no other family? What about friends?”

“Manny, it’s been a brutal few months,” Garrett replied. Something about Manny’s

presence gave Garrett a feeling of comfort. Maybe because he didn’t look judgmental. Maybe

because he was a stranger who was leaving town anyway and wouldn’t be able to tell anyone in

town who might know him. He started telling his story.

“I got out of prison in mid-September having served a three-year sentence. I thought

getting out would be great because I’d be back with my girlfriend only to find out that while I

was in prison, she met someone and started a relationship. They seem pretty solid. She was kind

enough to let me store my stuff with her until I could find housing. I was lucky to land a

warehouse job and through that got a line on an apartment. I was able to move out of the shelter

at the beginning of November.”

Manny shook his head, “That’s a lot. I’m sorry about your dad. It’s good, though, that

you were able to get a job and an apartment.” He paused, “You have no other family?”

“I was married and have two kids. My wife left me twelve years ago and took the kids.”

Manny’ silence and countenance made clear his compassion for Garrett. He let the silence speak.

Garrett continued, “She couldn’t deal with my substance abuse, drugs and alcohol. We were

married for seven years. Looking back, though, I’m amazed she was able to manage that long. If

I wasn’t fighting or ranting, I was in a stupor. I was hardly a husband or a father. One day I woke

up and saw that they were gone. They left no message, no forwarding address. I called my

mother-in-law, who refused to tell me where they were and then told me never to call again.

Same thing with her other family members and her friends. I don’t blame them. I would have

done the same thing.

“I spent the next two years in and out of detox and rehab. I’m grateful for my VA benefit,

which helped. In a way it was the least I could expect for serving two tours in Afghanistan. What

I saw there shocked my conscience to the point where I became numb. What began as a noble

cause became a soulless job. My memories tormented me when I got home, which is when I

began to abuse.

“I’m still angry, especially now that our efforts came to nothing. The Taliban are back in

power. Meanwhile this administration wants to send the Afghans who helped us in that war back

to Afghanistan because one totally messed up guy shot someone. The Afghans helped us a lot. If

it weren’t for them, I probably wouldn’t be here now.”

Manny listened sympathetically. At times he nodded his head. “What about now?” he

asked. Garrett exhaled. “Prison turned out to be my salvation. I was able to get clean. I had long

conversations with the chaplain who reminded me often that I was a worthy person loved by God

despite everything and that since God loved me, I should love myself, too. She told me that when

I get out, I will be in my mid-forties, which would be enough years to build some semblance of a

decent life. She said ‘keep your options open. You have no option when you abuse.’ She gave me

some coping tools, which help me a lot because sometimes my dreams torment me.”

Manny quietly responded, “I’m sorry. Thank you for your service and thank you for

sharing what must be painful to tell.”

The snowstorm had become ferocious. Visibility was practically zero. Manny, looking at

the parking lot, “I guess I’m not going anywhere soon.” He thought for a bit. “Why don’t you

join me for dinner?”

Puzzled, Garrett looked at Manny, “Dinner? I’ve still got my laundry here and where will

we go?”

Manny opened his backpack. “I’ve got a couple of sandwiches, turkey and peanut butter

and jelly, your choice.”

“I can’t take them from you,” said Garrett.

“I insist. Besides, this is my dinner break, and I don’t want to eat alone. There’s no one

else here. So, you can’t say no.”

“OK. Since you insist. Do you mind if I take half the PB&J and half the turkey? This way

we’re eating the same meal.”

Manny smiled, “Great idea.” He unwrapped the sandwiches and split them. “Also, I have

some vegetable soup.” He took out a thermos with a couple of hot cups and plastic spoons. He

poured out the soup and pushed it over to Garrett. “Do you mind if we say grace?” Garrett

shrugged, “Sure, whatever.” “We give you thanks, O God,” Manny began. “for the bounty of this

meal. We are grateful for our friendship in this moment and your presence among us tonight. We

give thanks for Garrett’s sobriety. I pray for Garrett that options will open for him in the coming

year. Grant him patience and strength in this, his time of grief. We give thanks for love that came

down tonight. Amen.”

“Thanks,” Garrett said. “I’m grateful that you’re here. “Something about you, Manny. I

normally don’t tell people, even people I know, what I told you about the war. Just telling you,

though, and your quiet listening has been a gift. At least for tonight, it’s weight is off my

shoulders.”

“Hey! I got something else.” Manny took out another thermos and two more hot cups. He

poured hot cocoa into each. “And as an added bonus,” Manny produced two candy canes.

“swizzle sticks!”

Garrett laughed. He smiled and remembered, “I haven’t had hot cocoa and candy canes

since I was a kid. My mom gave it to us as a special treat after sledding,” he said with a

contented sigh. “You’re making me feel a little Christmasy now, Manny.”

They watched the snow fall as they ate. Much had already been said. They ate in silence

as they thought about what they shared.

After they finished, Manny got up and started to pack. “I got to hit the road. I still have

four or five hours left ahead of me.” The snow had barely tapered off.

Grateful for the company, Garrett smiled. “I get it. This has been great, but you have to

get going. I’ll do the dishes,” he laughed. “Have a safe trip, Manny. I don’t think you know how

much tonight meant to me.” Garrett wrapped him in a big bear hug.

Manny put on his coat, picked up his backpack. “Garrett, I’ll remember this night. It was

special for me, too. When I light a candle tonight, I will hold you in prayer.” At that, Manny

walked out into the storm.

Garrett watched Manny disappear into the night. Garrett wondered, though, why he didn’t

see any car pull out of the parking lot.

Hours later, the snow continued to fall. However, it was gentle. The storm was over.

Garrett entered the church. His heart was still warm. He wasn’t a member and wasn’t looking for

much. All he really wanted to do was sing some carols.

Though he didn’t come for any Christmas message, the preacher’s homily grabbed his

attention. She spoke of angels as God’s messengers of peace, peace kept not by instruments of

violence and destruction. Rather, a peace sustained by love, God’s love, whose forgiveness

knows no bounds. When she said, “God squeezed himself into a tiny, defenseless baby ultimately

to lead an army; its weapons were kindness, generosity, compassion, and grace,” Garrett

suddenly saw Jesus in a new way. Towards the end, she read Christina Rosetti’s poem:

Love came down at Christmas,

Love all lovely, love divine;

Love was born at Christmas,

Star and angels gave the sign.

Worship we the Godhead,

Love incarnate, love divine;

Worship we our Jesus:

But wherewith for sacred sign?

Love shall be our token,

Love shall be yours and love be mine,

Love to God and to all men,

Love for plea and gift and sign.

She concluded her message saying, “Immanuel, God with us. Jesus has come. Amen.”

Tears filled Garrett’s eyes.