Holiday Reflection
Sermon | December 20, 2020 | Rev. Julie Lombard
When I first set off to write this reflection, I wanted to direct our hearts’ to celebrating 100 years of the women’s right to vote this holiday season. I wanted to not only wish you a very happy holiday, but a very feminist one, too. So, I picked out worship elements written by women and including the story of the little water imp and the hound who saved it by Grace Greenwood. Don’t we all long for sweet reunions with our long lost family members. Meanwhile, we bury ourselves in the fluff of a pet’s fur, the few who have comforted us as we waited and waited for this time to end.
Every year we celebrate the arrival of a boy child, we tell stories written by men of ole, but this year has been a very different year. So, I thought, let us do something completely different. This year requires an unfamiliar response of a hopeful message; one where equality rules and justice thrives, one that doesn’t reflect the hate that agitates our worlds, and one where we have trust in our neighbors, once again.
We are living in a very distinct age as we survive this pandemic, yet some things stay the same: we enjoy coming together and hearing familiar songs and holiday stories of a child that changed our lives. We pull out all the old favorites, wonders in winter, dust off the memories, and enter into a magical zone where time stands still. We let down our guard and allow our souls to rest. We rest ye merry folks for the season of hope is here. Thank God! Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is to not repeat 2020.
We’ve been worrying for so long, now, and wondering who might be with us, who might still be here. Would we lose ourselves, a friend or a family member, a job, a regularly work or school schedule and all the routines of a life we once lived?
We could never imagine a holiday season like this, but yet gathering virtually has offered us so many new gifts: a year of good health for so many and extra time with family as we hunker down for this strange hibernation. May our slumbers bring us dreams full of fresh passion for what will urge us to live out our values as new and improved Unitarian Universalists.
May we return to a world where, when we reach out in love to our friends and our foes, we might confuse someone who wonders which one is which? We dream of a time that moves slower and each connection leads to a more meaningful depth. Life finally matters and not just for White folks, and life is seen as the gift it truly is.
We no longer take for granted the things we had before: freedom to move about and to visit with whomever whenever. Who here misses hearing singing in the sanctuary or the sounds of young children crawling between the pews? We know we are missing something this year, but we also know that it’s ok. It is only so that when we do gather in the future that we will value more what we most miss now.
We have received some unexpected gifts – we come to church online, who knew? We could never have imagined doing church in this way. While you’re at it, invite a furry friend or two because they seem to like joining us. All are welcome to come and zoom. You don’t have to be from Texas, if you’ve seen who is with us in this new zoom room.
For me, it is simple. Midland, Texas has given me many sunny days and kind, friendly faces. I could never have imagined such a reality as this a year ago from this day. Yet, there is something strangely familiar and so darn sweet.
May we be given the chance to see all that we have and understand that life is a precious gift. Our time together is very special. Let us give thanks for the sounds that sustain us and a light that reminds us that time is fleeting.
Come, yet again, come, hopeful holiday spirit, all we want to do is be wrapped up in your embrace. Bring with you peace and ease, comfort and joy, love and commitment. Let us be glad that we have had this time together.
May it be so. Amen.