The Unitarian Universalist Community Church of Santa Monica

"Christmas Message"

It’s been a typical week before Christmas around here.
We’ve all been working hard,
    and there's been little time to think about anything
        except getting ready for the holiday.
Lots of people have been sick.
Just beyond our little world
    comes news of uncertainty
        and political change
            and unrest abroad.
The shortest night of the year came and went.
I'm glad it's over.

I was thinking how difficult it would be
    to come up with a message
        that would be genuine and sincere and personal.
The season has largely passed me by,
    even as I've worked to do my part right here.
But then I was sitting in my car at a red light,
    listening to the radio,
        and heard something that made me remember
            what this season means.

The story on the radio was about the letters to Santa
    that are addressed to the North Pole,
        but actually land in a department
            of the Los Angeles Post Office.
I never realized that 
    when children wrote letters to Santa Claus,
        the letters actually went somewhere.
They sit in bins, 
    under the care of a benevolent postal worker,
        waiting to be read.
And generous people come in and read them.

One young man, interviewed for this radio story,
    said this is how he celebrates Christmas.
He comes in, 
    selects a few letters,
        and then sets out to fulfill the wishes
            they express.
In one letter, a child in South Central Los Angeles
    wants a bike for himself
        and Nike shoes for his sister.
His mother told him 
    that Santa couldn't find their house last year,
        so he's carefully writing very good directions this time.

Such a letter could break your heart.
Except such a letter is about to be answered.
A young man is about to go out,
    find a bike and some Nike shoes
        and deliver them to the house
            Santa himself couldn't find.

"The year is waning fast," wrote Charles Dickens, 
    "and it is precious time to us.
We have the power to render others happy or unhappy.
Our power lies in words or looks,
    in things so small that it is impossible 
        to add and count them up.
The happiness we give is no small matter."

How we experience this season
    is largely up to us.
We can wait for it to be over,
    never opening our hearts to it.
Or we can let it happen,
    let ourselves be moved as something inside us turns,
        ever so subtly,
            towards the spirit of joy.

The point of the season
    is not about whether the world is at peace.
It's not even about whether our lives are how we want them to be.
It's about the invitation, 
    even when times are hard and we have no room for joy,
        to open our hearts to human warmth and gladness.
And what's good about that 
    is that more often than not, we can.

Deeply rooted in the narrative of humankind,
    from the earliest invocations to the sun
        during the longest night,
            to the story of a birth
                under the brightest star,
                    we have sensed the contrast
                        between the harshness of the world
                            and the gentle, loving place within.
The spirit of the season reminds us
    something within us 
        is really strong enough
            to change the world;
                and when it does, someday,
                    we will be at peace and all will be well.
In the meantime,
    that gentle, loving place within
        changes us,
            and it does so every time we respond to the invitation
                to let the spirit move us
                    and remind us of the great potential
                        we possess.
Somewhere in downtown Los Angeles
    there are good people reading children's letters to the North Pole;
        little do they know
            they make Christmas come back
                even to those who gave up Santa long ago.

When the invitation comes, pay attention.
Even if it is only the slightest hint of something in the air,
    or the smallest stirring within.
What matters is to pay attention
    and to let ourselves be open 
        to the spirit, in whatever form it takes.
For however it sounds or looks,
    the spirit is that warm, gentle place inside the human heart
        that reminds us of who we are
            and the power we have
                to make others happy.

We need this time of year for no other reason
    than to remember that when we open our hearts,
        we become more fully human,
            and when we do that,
                everything changes.
It’s not too late.