A Christmas Wish

On this Christmas Eve I wish you the peace of whatever holidays you and your family celebrate.
I will celebrate the birth of a brown skinned Jewish Palestinian homeless boy who was born to an unwed mother. He probably spoke Aramaic.
Shortly after his birth, he and his family were forced to immigrate and seek asylum in a foreign land because of fear for his life.

He would grow up to work with his hands as carpenter.
At age 30 he began traveling as an itinerant preacher.
He never had a mega church, he met people where they were.
He challenged his disciples to take nothing with them, but to rely on the good will of those they would meet.
He peached a gospel of love for all.
He refused to judge a woman caught in adultery.
He never judged someone based on the color of their skin, the language they spoke, the religion (or lack of) that they practiced, their country of origin, their immigration status, or their sexual identity or preferences.
He said we are all neighbors, all sisters and brothers.
He believed if we had two coats we should give one to the person who had none.
He said possessions should be given away if we wished to follow him.

His last lesson to us was to wash his disciples feet, a lasting reminder that those in positions of influence should serve others. (not the reverse)

His teachings seam a radical message in today’s world.
Apparently, it seemed somewhat radical back then too, because after 3 years of roaming and preaching, the authorities had him killed.

But his message did not die with him.
It lives on.
Yes, it has been corrupted countless times and used to justify many evil deeds, but the pureness of his message cannot be silenced, cannot die.
Even though at times it seems to be gone, a flicker has always survived.
A flicker that can come alive in the words or deeds of a good man or woman.
We often think of King, of Mandela, of Chavez, of Theresa, but even more important, it comes alive in the faces, in the smiles, and in the kind words and deeds of our friends.

You see, Jesus was never rich, never published, never attended university, never travelled far from home. He didn’t blog, or tweet, or post.
He spoke to people and he touched them, with his hands and his heart.
That is what Christmas is to me.
A celebration of that love between people.

It doesn’t matter if we believe he was the son of God, or even if we believe that God exists.
It matters that we celebrate his example.
And follow it.
Merry Christmas.