Pastor’s Weekly Email

December 13, 2008

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BROOKE’S GIFT TO GOD AND JESUS

Preface:  This email story was originally written to my Pine Island congregation on December 26, 2003.  I was recounting a very special moment that occurred on Christmas Eve just prior to the final of three candlelight services that evening. It so captures the essence of the meaning of Christmas I read it over again and again each Christmas season to lift my spirit.  It was so precious that I wanted to share it with you just as I wrote then.

BROOKE’S GIFT TO GOD AND JESUS

Sometimes I hear God speaking to me through the beauty of the world that surrounds me, for I cannot look at a magnificent sunset or the delicate grace of a soaring osprey or the magnitude of the stars in heaven without sensing that God is speaking to me of His majesty and power.  Sometimes I hear God speaking to me through the great authors who plumb the depths of the human soul and share the insights of the heart that make life a little easier to live as we assimilate those insights and claim their lessons.  Sometimes I hear God speaking to me through His angels of compassion and mercy who do His work anonymously and unobtrusively.  They are the silent saints selflessly serving those who need a caring heart and sympathetic ear.  Sometimes I hear God speaking to me through unexpected and serendipitous sources.  Such was the case on Christmas Eve when I encountered another of God’s angels in disguise.  Let me share the incident and perhaps you will be as touched as I was in that moment of Christmas wonder where the true meaning of the season was spoken once again through the gift of a child.

 It was only a few minutes before the third and final Christmas Eve service was to commence. Having done two services already, the mystery of the evening was slowly being dissipated by the routine of repetition.  My thoughts were already beginning to wander beyond the moment to the time when this final service would be over and Peggy and I could enjoy the remainder of Christmas Eve in the quiet solitude of our home.  The crowd was gathering and I could hear the beginning sounds of the musical prelude that indicated that the service would soon begin.  I was making the last minute preparations to enter the Sanctuary when I was met by one of the mothers of the church and her young daughter, Brooke, who was attired in pajamas and slippers.   Nancy, the mother, and Brooke, along with the rest of their family, had come to the previous service, so I was a little surprised to see them at that particular moment.  But the reason for their return turned out to be one of those serendipitous moments that you treasure for the rest of your life.

 Brooke is a quiet, unassuming early elementary aged little girl with a coy smile and soft voice that would melt the heart of any adult who misses their grandchildren as I do.  Perhaps because of her shyness she doesn’t say very much, but she really doesn’t need to, since the glow of her face radiates volumes to those around her.  You know that behind those sparkling eyes there is a bundle of love that is just aching to be shared.

 Brooke was slightly clinging to her mother when they found me before the service.  She had something in her hand that she wanted me to have.  She had made it herself.  It was a cross made from green construction paper that had an overlay of pink tissue paper.  This simple cross that she had obviously cut out herself was beautifully adorned with small red pompoms and pipe cleaners and masterfully touched with glitter of varying colors.  She had spent her afternoon diligently putting all the items together in just the right combinations.  I could tell that this was not an ordinary craft project that mothers might use to keep a child busy and out of the way.  No, there was thought that went into this cross.  There was feeling that emoted from the hand that applied the glue and the glitter with such loving care and delicacy.  I could tell that this was a special cross.

 Then, in her quiet hushed tones voice she shared the words that I will never forget, “This is a gift for God and Jesus.  I made this for God.”  Brooke wanted me to take it because in her childlike faith I have come to represent God. To her I am God’s special envoy who can speak directly to the Almighty and even bear His gifts to Him.  She had been so disappointed at the earlier service when her family was in church because she had worked on this “gift for God and Jesus” and then forgot to bring it to church to give to me.  She made her mother promise to bring her back to church so that I would be sure to get the cross before the final evening service. 

 It was amazing to me that this sweet little angel of a child on Christmas Eve, when children her age generally are more focused on getting to bed so that Santa can bring them their Christmas gifts, would make her mother bring her back to church in her pajamas so that she could get “God’s gift” to me.  I hugged little Brooke and assured her that her special offering would be given to God.  And that evening before the final Christmas Eve Communion and Candle lighting service began, I took Brooke’s love offering to God and placed it on the altar table next to the loaf of communion bread. I could think of no better place for it to be than next to the symbol of God’s great love gift to us.  

 God’s love came down at Christmas in the gift of a child at Bethlehem, a child who would one day bear the pain of the cross of Calvary.  Brooke’s love went up to God in the form of a child-crafted cross, a gift that shimmered from the glitter in the reflected light of the candles on the altar of God.  It took a child to re-focus me on the meaning of the evening.  Christ’s coming is all about love -- God’s love for us, and our love for God and one another.  May the spirit of Brooke’s gift of love live in our hearts as we move into a New Year.

 COMMENTS:  scotpeg1@earthlink.net