Imperfection

With December comes the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season. At church that means advent calendars, the Sharing Tree, Unity concert and of course pageant is prepped and ready.

One of my favorite Christmas traditions is the children’s pageant. In this open, walk on pageant every child is encouraged to take a part in telling the story of Christ’s birth. I love the costumes and the singing and the waving of light sticks, the children’s voices and their dancing, and I love how messy it is.

Don’t get me wrong, our children share their talents with us, and they transport all of us as they lead us in worship that is at times solemn and beautiful. Our staff and volunteers do an amazing job of organizing costumes, preparing music, choreographing dancers and planning with families and children to make sure that everyone is welcome and included- but in the pageant itself- it’s the little moments of imperfection that remind me of who we are as God’s children.

It’s the strange costume combinations (donkey ears and angel wings), kids who decide at the last minute to run off to sit with mom, kids who really want to be a part of the pageant but are afraid that they might be too old that remind me of God’s grace. In these moments it’s easy to know that imperfections don’t take away from the pageant- they make it what it is. It’s easy to feel God’s grace in the stunning realization that God is smiling on all of it. 

In our yearly striving for a beautifully decorated house and lovely gatherings with family and friends, the right gifts, the tree- I hope that we can also remember the imperfect, lovely faces of children who have come to lead us in worshiping God- imperfect just like us. 

This Advent as we prepare our hearts and our homes and our children to welcome Christ in our midst- I hope that when we look at the faces at the manger- all of the faces- that  we can came to see ourselves there too.

Home for Christmas

He was munching on a cookie when he said it to me, this teenage boy. “I never realized before how sad so much Christmas music is.” And it was a profound insight, delivered by a teenage boy standing in Central’s Auditorium, his one hand filled with Christmas cookies, the place packed with the crowd from the Living Nativity. It didn’t last for long, this moment of insight, as both of us soon turned back to the table in search of some more chocolate chip cookies, but that teenage boy was right. So much Christmas music is kind of sad, melancholy.

            And I think that sadness comes from the difference between the ideal of what we think that Christmas should be and the reality of what it is. Take the song, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” “You can count on me…. I’ll be home for Christmas,” the lyrics affirm, before taking this sudden twist, “if only in my dreams.” For despite the ideal of what we think that Christmas should be, the reality for some people is that being home for Christmas is only a dream, and that’s sad.

            You can think of the ones who won’t be home for Christmas—soldiers serving far from home—folks doing time in prison—refugees displaced by natural disaster and by war. This week, due to our participation with other interfaith congregations in the Homeless Sabbath, Dec. 16-18, I am thinking of homeless people. 

Here in New Jersey, of course, it’s easy for folks to end up homeless, since we are the 6^th most expensive state in which to rent an apartment. According to a study, working at a minimum wage job, a family would have to work 127 hours a week in order to afford the average two bedroom apartment in New Jersey, which equates to 3.2 full-time jobs! That’s why so many of the families we encounter when we host Family Promise guests are employed. They just don’t earn enough to afford to live here. And that’s why our local Interfaith Council has been working so hard these past six months on affordable housing. This situation simply must change, but it starts with a moment, a flash of insight, the reality, the dream beyond the sadness. “I’ll be home for Christmas….”

--Pastor Don Steele

Feeling Closer to God Through Music

I'm writing this blog post tonight, Thursday evening, following an exciting rehearsal at Fountain Baptist in preparation for the Gospel Christmas concert that we are presenting together. And when I wake up in the morning, I will be getting ready to play a children's concert at Central, for which the last couple of times more than 100 kids have attended. Each event is totally different, but both are the same in purpose...bringing people together. One brings together the children of the community, from different nursery schools (as well as adults!), to sit together for 30 minutes and enjoy a story and some music. The other brings together our two congregations, their music programs, and the community at large as everyone gathers together to enjoy utterly amazing music. 

Both are opportunities for neighbors and friends to be together. Both are opportunities for differences to be forgotten. In each of those events, music and fellowship are the primary focus, and both are chances to take a break from the hustle and bustle of the season. 

I feel very grateful that we at Central can present these kinds of outreach events, because these events are what make me the most proud of my role here. When people can gather, regardless of race, gender, age and sexual orientation, and enjoy music, and perhaps feel closer to God because if it...that's when I feel like my work has true meaning.

-Dr. Charity Wicks, Director of Music Ministries