Boxing Day Disciples
(when a Christmas weekend blizzard gives you a new way to be a Boxing Day disciple)
After being storm-stayed for three days, even the most patient of beagles needs to get out and roam. Mr Parker, for anyone who has met him, is certainly not the most patient of beagles, so he needed out long before today. But today he got a good walk just before he was left to guard the rectory, while delayed Christmas gifts got delivered.
These deliveries did not have to be done alone. And the packages were added to by one disciple who decided, when storm-stayed from a family gathering, and after an appropriate level of sorrow, to get busy sewing prayer quilts. So there was a stop to collect these prayer quilts.
Exiting the driveway was easy because two neighbours, one yesterday and another today, brought snow blowers and removed the hard-as-concrete ice chunks which the snow ploughs were depositing like prison gates at the end of the driveway. Making up for lost time those snow ploughs were, working through the night as though to say “not to worry, we will jam you into your driveway even if we have to work at it all night”.
Where blizzards (and their follow up snow ploughs) may make us feel helpless, the interventions of neighbours and people around who simply care, make all the difference in not giving back and moving back to a tropical island!
Snow-blower-wielding angels created time for me to do some baking, so I had some festive treats to share with those I went to visit today. A supper invitation awaited my return - lots of extra turkey made into soup due to family that wasn’t able to come due to … you guessed it … the blizzard.
The church elves had worked overtime in the week before Christmas to ensure that gift bags were prepared for those in long term care. Those bags hadn’t gotten delivered before Christmas, and after a few calls, I had one particular elf all ready to go with me to do the deliveries and the visits. Where two or three are gathered …
The smiles in the eyes (not on the faces, because masking, COVID you know) of the employees and long-time residents were so warm, so heartfelt … this is Christmas, the smile that will not be overcome by masking. They were the best Boxing Day Special ever! One resident said to the church elf who went with me, “I am so glad you came. It gets so lonely in here.”
Loneliness at Christmas time plagues so many of us. For many many years, I declined invitations to family Christmas gatherings because they simply made me miss my own family more. But for those who have no invitations, have no one bringing them a meal, a card, a hug, a gift - it isn’t a selected solitude, it is simply deep loneliness.
I feel that, if we are really followers of Jesus, living the way Jesus has instructed us to live, bringing love and friendship to this kind of loneliness ought to trump the traditions that are limited to those who can make their way to church for Christmas services. Typically, many, perhaps most of those who are able to make their way to church are also those who will go to visit family, or have family come over. They are the haves. What happens with the have nots whilst the haves are celebrating the so-called coming of light into the darkness that will not overcome?
In thankfulness for all we have, we may respond to the invitation to bring presence, friendship, affection, love to the places where loneliness abides. This is one way of thinking of the light that darkness does not overcome. We bear the light. We bring the light. We look for the dark places, and come bearing storm-stayed gifts - simple gifts of warm greetings, laughter, a reminder that someone cares.
Today, darkness did not overcome. Hugs, conversations, hand-holding, gift-giving - all of these happened because we got storm-stayed.
The blizzard may not have felt like a gift to us, but it allowed others to experience a gift that they otherwise would not have had on Boxing Day - the gift of visitation ministry.
Much like crucifixion, I am sure, did not feel like a gift to Jesus, but it allowed us to experience a gift we otherwise may not have had - ETERNAL LIFE.
How do we honour the gifts we are given? How do we share from what we have in return? In a way that is not obliterated by tradition and over-indulgence whilst others feast on loneliness? Does it take a blizzard? Does it take a pandemic? Does it take Mother Nature sending us to our rooms?
How do we celebrate as Boxing Day Disciples as an act of will and love and desire, rather than a remnant act of plans thrown asunder by Creator’s blizzardy handiwork?