I have two big boxes full of Christmas story books—curated over forty years—and the day in late November that I drag them from the basement storage closet up to our living room is one of my favorite days of the year. A handful of these books tell the story of Jesus’s birth with scripture. The dozens of others? They invite me into the mystery of Christmas through poems and fables; through the eyes of mice and spruce trees; and even through cookies that come alive, or a strange green creature that discovers “Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
There are so many ways to tell the story of Jesus’s birth—perhaps the most famous story there is. Over the next four weeks, we’ll hear it in the holy scriptures read during worship and in the music we sing. We’ll see it as our spaces are adorned and transformed. We’ll experience the story as theater in our pageant. The children (in our aptly named Storymakers class) will explore this story in comics, in comedy, in art, and—if I feel brave—in stables made of graham crackers and sheep made of marshmallows and licorice.
We say to our little ones, the mystery of Christmas is coming near and we don’t want to miss it. Imagine all of the ways you’ll hear this story in the coming weeks. Imagine of all the ways you’ll tell it. Through old worn story books; through foods and scents; through traditions and decorations; through the giving of gifts and the visits of friends. This beautiful, mysterious story—of a Creator so loving that God became human to walk among us—is all around us. I hope and pray that as we enter Advent this Sunday, we will all feel this story in everything and everyone around us. Know that this story is for each one of us. It is our story.
With love,
Bryn
