Rev. David Horton

Colossians 3:12-15
12 As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. 13 Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. 14 Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. 15 And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. 

Reflection:
Pastors love to tell stories. It’s what we do. And some stories sound too good to be true but, actually, they are true. Those are the best ones. So here’s a story like that from a sermon I preached on February 11, 2018, when America was battling a different sort of pandemic—opioid addiction.

A young woman named Megan couldn’t kick her heroin habit. She grew up in a loving home, had a loving dog, and two loving parents. Now she’s sleeping on the streets of Boston. Her parents didn’t know where she was. She could have been dead for all they knew. CNN did a story on the opioid epidemic. They took to the streets and, by sheer coincidence (or miracle?), they interviewed Megan, and her parents saw the interview on live TV. They knew their daughter was alive because they saw her on TV.

Her Dad, Paul, went looking for her, and found her. There she was—her home was a sleeping bag and needle on the sidewalk. He tried to convince her to get up and come home. She wouldn’t go. He tried to get her to a rehab facility. She wouldn’t go. He tried to get her off the streets, check into a hotel with him, go to the hospital—anything. She wouldn’t go.

And so he bought a sleeping bag and took the patch of sidewalk next to her. He lives there now. He even brought the dog. The dad and the dog won’t leave without the girl. They’re in this together. It will be the three of them, or none of them.

That’s what Christmas means. God buys a sleeping bag and takes the patch of sidewalk next to you. You’re in this together now. It will be the two of you, or none of you. Paul says, “Clothe yourselves with love.” Sometimes love looks like a sleeping bag. Or a nurse’s scrubs. A badge. A uniform. The crossing guard’s vest. Dad’s boots. Mom’s blanket.

You clothe yourself with love every time you suit up and show up to lay down your life for somebody. You’re putting love on so you can give love away. That’s Christmas! God suited up in human uniform and showed up for us. Jesus is God’s love uniform. This child will grow up to lay down his life—for you, for me, for the world. It’s the best kind of story—too good to be true, but it is. And you and I get to live by this story every day. We get to suit up. We get to show up. We get to love as we have been loved. 

Prayer:
God of the incarnation, you cast your lot with us. We’re in this together now—you and me and us. Help me to put on my love uniform every day. Help me to keep Christmas in my heart, so Christmas might be visible in my hands and tangible in the way I live. In the name of Jesus, the Christ child, I pray. Amen.