The noted African American theologian and pastor Howard Thurman published a short devotional book called Meditations of the Heart. In it he shared this brief anecdote:

Years ago, walking along a road outside Rangoon, I noted at intervals along the way a roadside stone with a crock of water and, occasionally, some fruit. Water and fruit were put there by Buddhist priests to comfort and bless any passerby—one’s spiritual salutation to another. The fact that I was a traveler from another part of the world, speaking a strange language and practicing a different faith, made no difference. What mattered was the fact that I was walking along the road—what my mission was, who I was—all irrelevant.

There are serendipitous moments in our life that bring us joy—finding a quarter on the sidewalk or money in a jacket pocket; having the sun break through the Pittsburgh clouds and shine all around us; seeing children playing outside or watch a dog chase a tennis ball. Lifting our eyes off the ground (and off our electronic devices!) allows us to catch glimpses of beauty and God’s grace around us. But our faith calls us to trust in something more than serendipity. We are also called to be intentional in our acts of comfort, grace and blessing.

The past year is now history. Year-end contribution appeals will likely stop appearing in your mailbox. A new year is dawning with both challenges and opportunities for all of us. It is a perfect time to practice “intentional serendipity.” Even though that phrase is an oxymoron, it is still an idea worth considering. How about sending a handwritten note telling one person you value in your life how special they are? Or what about if you notice someone behind you in the grocery store checkout line who has only a couple items and you offer to add it to your total—or if you see someone eating alone at a table beside you in a restaurant and you pick up their tab? First pray that you might be a blessing this month to someone—and then keep your eyes and heart open, trusting that God will provide the opportunity for your “intentional serendipity.”2

Thurman ended his meditation by asking: In your own way, do you keep a lantern burning by the roadside with a note saying where you may be found just in case? Do you place a jar of cool water and a bit of fruit under a tree to help the needy traveler? God knows the answer and so do you! May we each be a blessing this month.

—Randy Bush

I’m not sure if nativity scenes on Christmas cards actually catch the moment we should be remembering as this crazy year winds to a close. Don’t get me wrong—remembering the setting where the Christ child lay humbly in a manger, surrounded by Mary, Joseph, animals and shepherds is a healing and lovely reminder of how God came to us in the form of an infant. It offers us a vision of peace in times of turmoil and comfort when so much seems to be uncertain and broken.

But there is a scene prior to the Bethlehem manger scene that needs to be pondered during Advent and Christmas. Not the scene of the Holy Family making their way from Nazareth down to Bethlehem. Not even the image of the angels appearing to the shepherds who were watching their flocks by night in the fields. In fact, it is not something that can be depicted in artwork or stained glass windows. It is the moment when this world’s reality was shattered by the in-breaking of God’s full reality through the incarnation of Christ.

We glimpsed part of that divine moment when the angel told Mary that she would bear a son. We focus on that amazing moment when the gospel of John tells us how “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory.” We humbly picture that miraculous moment through the hymn found in Paul’s letter to the Philippians, where it says “Jesus did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself and was born in human likeness.” Ultimately, God broke into our world. God shattered whatever barrier we imagine exists between earth and heaven and came to us—literally right beside us, in our very midst, into human history long ago as well as our present day and age.

To me, that changes every conversation we have had during the past year. God has broken into our world to offer healing, hope and redemption. God has broken into our world and been beside us, as we have witnessed a year of continued fighting in Syria and terrorist attacks around the world, as we celebrated another Olympics and yet struggled to rebuild after Hurricane Matthew, as Black Lives Matter and the Standing Rock protests continue to push for justice while the recent national election appears to reflect how our country has moved in a direction of fearfulness and isolationism.

If I truly believe in the Christmas represented by nativity scene cards and the scripture proclamation of Christ’s birth, then my first response to all historical events is to reflect on God’s presence in the midst of this world—weeping alongside God in Christ who weeps over our violent ways; speaking out beside the prophetic God in Christ who knows that silence and despair have no place in this world’s unfinished incarnation of a kingdom of justice and mercy and welcome. Christmas started when God said “Enough. I will come to you that you may find your way back to me and to one another.” May we remember that heavenly promise as cards are opened, presents are exchanged, and a world around us waits—waits—waits and hopes for the peace that passes all understanding.

—Rev. Dr. Randy Bush